EIGHT

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I'm so sorry! I couldn't figure out how to make a Ringo chapter so I'm going to make a George one instead because I have an amazing adorable idea!

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George's POV

After the mass, Paul approaches me with a small slip of paper. I shyly wave at him.

"Uh...hello Paul." I smile. He smiles back.

"Hello, George." His expression turns to a serious one, "Here's my telephone number. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me, alright?"

"Um...alright, Paul. Thank you."

He puts a hand on my shoulder and looks at me,

"You're welcome, George." He says, lovingly. Then proceeding to playfully punch my shoulder. He walks off and I'm left in all my complete and utter confusion. I put a hand on my shoulder, recalling how warm his touch was and how I longed for it again. I personally couldn't wait until I needed something.

And, lucky enough for me, that night I needed something...

*That Night in a Dream*

I forced my eyes open, but all I could see was darkness. But then, my eyes adjusted. I was standing in a dark garage. There was a bright red Corvet parked behind me. My eyes grew wide. No no no, not again, please. I hear a creak behind me. I jump. I curl up into a tiny ball. I hear loud, pounding footsteps heading towards me.

"H-Hello?" I call out.

"Hello." His voice whispered, a few feet away. His voice sounded like a monsters, not like it normally did.

I scream. I didn't know what else to do,

"G-Get away from me!" I whisper, harshly.

"Oh...why would I do that, Georgie?"

I cringe at the mention of my name.

I don't answer his question. I have nothing to say to him.

"Well, welcome back." I can hear the evil smile in his voice, mere inches from my face.

I start to breath heavily.

"Oh Georgie...what's the matter?" He takes my head and forces it up, cackling maniacally all the while,"Not happy to see me?"

*Exit Dream*

I awoke with a start, sitting up directly in bed, tears streaming down my face and suppressing a scream that threatened to escape my throat. I looked around, and, sure enough, I was in my room, safe and sound. But, I still felt unsettled. At every noise I jumped, at every disturbance outside I just about wet myself.

I looked around, planning my escape route to the telephone. Eventually I jump out of bed and make a beeline for the phone. I dash down the hallway, careful not to wake my mother or father from their peaceful slumbers. I have awoken them enough times, I would feel terrible to do it again. I creep over to the telephone and grab Paul's number from the table nearby. I dial his number. It rings for a few seconds and then he picks it up,

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