The night grows cold as those dead arms hold me. That frozen heart still beating inside his chest. How he still lives, I will never know. His cruel eyes staring back at mine. A knife in one hand...a gun in the other. "Don't move," he whispered in my ear, sounding as fate as the wind.

He wouldn't let me go. And with that knife in plain sight, I made little effort to struggle. I could see those frail, icy hands. They were so pale... It was as if he was sleeping inside a freezer. Her grabbed my wrist tightly. I bit my tongue to keep myself from yelping in pain. The knife closer now, close enough to where I might can touch it with my finger tips.

That was my only hope… But it soon faded when a light shone from the metal of the gun into my eyes. “There’s no escape,” he smirked, “Go ahead, scream, if you wish. No one will hear you.” I wanted to pull away. I needed to run. The hand with the gun came around my waist, making sure I couldn’t run.

A tear escaped through my eye. “Please,” I remember muttering, “Please let me go.” He was dead… I saw him get killed. SO how is he standing before me? He shook his head, “No can do, Love. Now it’s my turn.” My mind was screaming with words my voice refused to yell out.

He bit my neck. The sharp pain waking me from my sleep. It was a dream? No, it couldn’t have been. I raised my hand to touch my neck. When I looked at my hand, blood covered my fingers. And yet, here I was. All alone in my own room. My door was locked and the windows, too.

“It had to have been a dream. He is dead,” I told myself over and over again. But when I looked at my desk, I knew it wasn’t. Tears fell down on my face like a thousand raindrops when I picked up that single red rose, with that black ribbon. There beside it sat a not that read, “I’m back, Love. And you won’t get rid of me so easily this time.”


I cried myself to sleep that night.