𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 ━━ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝟭𝟯 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

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Wake up.

Jackson opened his eyes, reeling from the sudden vertigo that hit him like a brick wall. The aching in his teeth and the sharp pain behind his eyes made him wince, holding his face in his hand until the discomfort faded. He glanced up and slowly adjusted to the sight before him, tilting his head with a puzzled look. What stretched on was the expanse of a University hallway, as far as the eye could see. He glanced behind him, narrowing his eyes at the night outside, with silver light peaking through the cracks of the trees. He checked his watch, watching as the second hand slowly ticked through the second until the clock struck twelve.

The light fixtures above emitted the fluorescent glow of hospital lights, clinical and white. Jackson figured that was one of the reasons why his eyes were hurting before. He wasn't sure why he was in the Arts' building at the dead of night. The last thing he remembered was sleeping in his own room with the door locked and a dresser pushed in front of the door. It was a safety measure above all else, though he doubted that the killer would try to confront him again now that security guards patrolled the area around Beaumont's halls of residence.

Perhaps he had been sleep walking. It was the next step to sleep talking, which was something that he did according to Stevie's brother. His gaze shifted down to his clothes. Not the clothes he was sleeping in. This was... this was very strange, and concerning. There was a tight, twisting feeling in his gut that made him uncomfortable.

He walked past rooms that led to different lecture theatres, but paused when he saw the trophy cabinet to his left. The Campbell peered through the glass, studying the few framed pictures that sat next to trophies. His gaze landed on a photograph of a familiar curly haired woman, with a bright pink bow tie in her hair, and he smiled at the sight of her. Bea was grinning, holding up a gold award she won for an inter-state quiz competition a couple years ago. No one could crush you in quiz night like she could. His smile fell when he saw the girl next to Beatrice Price. Silky blonde hair fell around her heart shaped face in tresses, like a fairy tale princess. Blue eyes gleamed, and she grinned with her arms around Bea's neck.

Jennifer Curtis.

There was a lump in his throat; an unsettling feeling he couldn't shake. No one is fully aware that another human being has just as much complexity and desires and dreams as oneself until they're gone. Even then, some people only think about how a person mattered or benefitted them. Jennifer's parents would weep for their daughter because she was their daughter. Jennifer's friends would cry over her passing because she was their friend. Who would mourn Jennifer Curtis because she was just as much of a human as the rest of them - who laughed and lamented, and loved and loathed?