28 HANNAH'S HOUSE

I finally summoned the courage to talk to Hannah. I went over last night. She seemed to have mixed feelings about seeing me: part of her was relieved after not hearing from me for days, while the other part was raging for the exact same reason. 


I explained to her everything, from the empty apartment to the blank files. She seemed a bit perplexed. She said her brother might still have the original copies of the reports in his room. We checked with her brother, but he didn't seem to remember any such reports. He then logged on to the police records from his computer and searched for 'Kyle Emerson': the search form read 'invalid entry'.


We went back to her room, and sat down without talking for a little while. But I could hear the sound of our thoughts scratching at the walls like claws...except those weren't our thoughts I was hearing. We both looked at each other as the weird sounds got louder and LOUDER and LOUDER! 


and suddenly stopped


There was silence for a few long seconds, then the power went out. I couldn't see anything but I could feel Hannah's hand reaching for mine. I held it tightly, as it shivered in fear. 


From the dark appeared to red eyes staring at us. They were filled with rage. In that moment, I longed for death, as it would've erased those horrible eyes from my memories. 


Hannah held back a scream. I asked the eyes what they wanted. I received a deep silence as an answer. The eyes suddenly disappeared into thin air, and the lights came back on.


Me and Hannah could finally breathe. 


I got up, and instinctively looked out of the window. Hannah begged me not to leave. The thought was no where near my head. Especially not, after seeing a tall man in a black hood staring at us from across the street. He saw me looking over at him and walked away.


I closed the curtains, kissed Hannah, and got under the covers with her.