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DAKOTA MILLER loved one thing more than anything: psychological horror films. She liked the wonder about how the villains mind would work, making them do the terrible things they did. Sometimes she liked the ones that would confuse the watcher, keep them wondering what could happen in the next scene.

Her parents would usually complain whenever she placed the video tape in the player and Hannibal Lecter's eerily calm face would appear, smiling at Clarice, who tried to conceal how terrified she was with a blank face, but had shaky hands. She'd roll her eyes when her mum and dad would walk in and groan in annoyance seeing Jack trying to take the bat off of Wendy before he was smacked around the head and sent falling down the flight of stairs.

Dakota liked all horror films, it was her favourite genre, but she preferred psychological ones to slasher movies because they were less predictable. There were more twists and turns and less jump scares and less big-boobed blonde bimbos, making stupid decisions of locking themselves in the bathroom instead of stabbing the killer with a kitchen knife or fleeing the house to call the police.

Her favourite author was Stephen King, even though she found some chapters of IT deeply unpleasant. The Green Mile would probably her favourite of his books because it kept you hooked on the words, ready to read the next page. The ending was always the worst part, when John Coffey died for a crime he didn't commit, and the real criminal got let off too easy, in her opinion, even if he was killed by Percy, who was also a grade A cunt.

She loved horror films, but would never want to be part of one. Turns out, you don't get much of a choice in life when a masked killer decides to rain havoc across the town, because of a pathetic excuse of a motive.

Dakota obviously didn't know what would happen in the days to come. It would be unexpected and traumatic on a number of levels but as for the days before the massacre, she spent them watching horror films and spending time with people from her secondary school.

The girl rolled over in her bed, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as she grabbed her glass of Coke from her bedside table, taking a sip, "You done the English homework yet?"

"If you're about to ask me for answers, you aren't getting them." Sidney chuckled from the other line of the phone, making her pout as if she could see her.

Sidney Prescott was probably Dakota's most trusted friend. They had very different likes as Sidney didn't care for horror films and was relativity a schools typical 'good girl', despite the rumours said about her mother, which weren't exactly false. 

"But I can't do Shakespeare!" Dakota responded, sighing loudly.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Just revise." Sidney replied.

"'Cause that's some great advice." Dakota remarked sarcastically.

"I can help you but I'm not giving you answers." Sidney stated.

"Good enough. I know you'll just get so pissed off with me doing the wrong ones that you'll do it all yourself." Dakota smirked.

"I hate that that's true." Sidney grumbled making her smile. "I spoke with Billy today."

"Yeah?" Dakota asked, even though she couldn't be less uninterested about their relationship.

"He wants to have sex." Sidney said quietly.

Dakota paused, worried at the slight uncomfortableness in her friends voice, "And you don't want to?"

"Well, not at the moment." Sidney replied.

"So don't." Dakota shrugged.

"It's not that easy." Sidney sighed, biting her thumb nail.

"Sure it is. Just reject his offer and watch TV, or something. He has a voice, talk with him." Dakota hummed.

"But he said he has, like, needs." Sidney mumbled. "I fell a bit bad, like I'm not doing a good job."

"A good job? This isn't a fuckin' exam, it's your choice whether you wanna or not." Dakota reminded her.

"But I understand what he means. I've been more closed off with everything since..." Sidney trailed off.

"And that's perfectly normal, y'know?" Dakota assured her, hearing Sidney him back. "Just keep telling him you don't want to yet and if he keeps pushing, slap him."

"He's not pushing." Sidney objected and Dakota silently disagreed. "He just has needs like everyone else."

"And he also has a right hand." Dakota remarked. "Sid, don't have sex with him just because he's making you feel bad about not wanting to."

"I won't." Sidney nodded and Dakota had a feeling that her words wouldn't stick with the other girl. "Hey, I'm gonna go to sleep. It's late."

"Yeah, I guess it is. Night." Dakota smiled.

"Goodnight." Sidney grinned down the phone before it beeped in Dakota's ear, the call done.

Dakota leaned over and placed her phone back in its holder, beside the framed photograph of her, Sidney and Tatum all dressed up for a Halloween party the year before.

The girl reached over to grab her TV remote and pressed play, resuming the paused film she was watching. Dakota settled down in her pillows, over the top of her quilt as she watched the slasher horror movie play out in front of her, not knowing she'd be part of one in the days to come.

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