Haunted once again by the nightmares of his childhood, Pete is beginning to fear that these twisted scenes may be more than figments of his imagination, that they may be trying to warn him of somet...
It's been an entire day, almost twenty-four hours, and she hasn't come out once.
"Give me one reason why I should, Peter!" she retaliates.
I smirk,"I win."
I hear the lock click and the door opens, "Only you could be so juvenile," She snaps, pushing past me and walking down the hall.
I follow her, but stop when I reach the living room.
I almost wish I had never said anything to Patrick, because there he and Emma are, on the couch, not even coming up for air, just openly mocking me at how my relationship is on the rocks.
"Rachael!" I boot it down to the basement and walk down the hall.
She sits on the couch in the main room.
"Why can't you just forgive me? I was only trying to protect you," I say, calmly, but an obvious edge in my voice.
"Well you'd be pissed if you just found out that your boyfriend knew you were going to die, but decided not to tell you because he thought you'd be better off!" she shouts, standing back up.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to do! And I still don't even know if it's right or not!"
"Save it," She says, rushing back up the stairs.
She stops in the living room as well, just as I did moments ago.
But Patrick and Emma have since stopped devouring each others faces, now they're all staring at the same thing.
Joe comes bounding down the stairs, but the grin on his face quickly changes when he's sees us.
"What's everybody starin' at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at us, "I thought Andy hung a hoodie there 'til we can get the window fixed," he points at the broken window.
Andy had hung a hoodie there, but now it's nowhere in sight.
Instead, there are words, burning on the front lawn, exactly like in the beginning of the "Dance, Dance" video.
Only the word isn't "Homecoming?".
Instead, there, before my very eyes, "I know your secret," burns right through to my very soul.
This can't be happening.
Someone really is trying to kill her.
Maybe even me.
I stick my head out the window, hoping to see some evidence, something, anything that could help me.
But all I see is a human figure, booting it down the street.