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turned on every light on her way, illuminating the house in an effort to rid it of whatever could be lurking there.
    Emily slammed her bedroom door, locking it. She turned on her television, trying to feel less alone than she suddenly felt. She had never felt overly bothered by being alone, but right now…she desperately wanted someone there with her. Even her mother would do.
    After a few minutes of listening and waiting for a noise that would surely indicate another presence, she slowly opened her door and poked her head out into the hallway. It was empty, of course. What did she expect to be there? She felt like a complete idiot. Did she think she was being haunted now? Emily didn’t believe in ghosts and the fact that she had just freaked so badly was pretty darned funny. Despite her firm believe that she was over reacting, she refused to leave her room for the rest of the night.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    It began the same as all of her dreams, like a fuzzy television that slowly came into focus. This time she found herself sitting in her room on her bed.  It was as if she was waking up from a sleep, though she was dreaming.  She pulled the sheets back on her bed and stretched.  This dream felt very real, just as they all did.  Emily already felt her stomach knot and sweat trickle between her shoulder blades.  She knew whatever was about to happen would be horrible.  Her nightmares often took on a life of their own, molded out of every bad memory, every abuse and trauma.  She walked to her window, framed in her girlish pink polka dot curtains. She braced herself for whatever horrific scene waited for her and the cascade of emotion that would wash over her.  As she stood at the window willing herself to look out, she felt that this dream was different.  It felt...odd.  It was the first time she felt that she wasn’t alone. Most of the time it was her intense loneliness that made them so miserable.
    She sensed a presence and turned around, expecting to find someone standing behind her.  No one was there.  She faced the window again, still feeling the undeniable presence of someone.  Outside the window looked like a battle field.  People lay strewn across the ground, blood running in rivets, becoming streams of carnage.  She felt the fear.  The fear and the despair that always accompanied the gruesome images her mind created.  She felt the need to run, to flee, but she was rooted to the spot. 
    Again she felt it, someone standing close to her.  She could almost sense the body heat emanating off of them.  This time she looked out her peripheral.  She distinctly saw a shape.  A dark shape that was clearly that of a person.  She slowly turned to face it head on.  When she did so she found she couldn't focus on it. Her eyes kept sliding away from the shape. Her hair stirred in an invisible wind and she smelled cinamon.  Sharp and pungent.    She felt a twinge of something…a memory…déjà vu. The figure made a small movement and Emily felt her eyes focus on it, suddenly being able to make out the contours of the body. It was definitely a man, slender but with an unmistakably intimidating presence. She began to walk towards him, still unable to make out any discernable feature.  He didn’t move, continuing to stand there almost as if he were waiting for her.  She stopped two feet away, straining to see his face.  Her vision kept going in and out of focus. It was giving her a massive headache. 
    Then there was a flash of ice cold blue. Eyes locked on hers and she was instantly caught in the intensity of his gaze. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression. She shuddered, unnerved by his unwavering study of her.
    She took a step back, then another.  Until her back was against the wall and her hands were flat against the peeling paper.  She needed to get out of there and quick, her fight or flight impulse warring with itself.  The figure hadn’t moved but she felt the