Insane?

Chapter 7:

*SHAWN'S POV:

"Shawn?"

"What?" I mumbled, not opening my eyes as my face remained smushed against the pillow. I felt the bed shift under someone's weight as they sat on the side of the mattress.

"How are you feeling?"

I answered, "Fine, Mom."

"Mom?" she laughed, "It's Sophie, silly."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I rolled over, coming face to face with her. "Sophie? What're you-"

"I came to see if you were okay."

With a cloudy mind, I asked, "Did my parents let you in or something?"

"No, I came in through the window." she answered with all seriousness.

"How did you- come through the- the w-window?" I asked, utterly confused. Sophie can't even climb a damn staircase let alone the side of my house.

"Don't worry about it." she shushed. "Go back to sleep."

"But-" I stopped when a loud pounding came from my closest. "What the hell was that?" I slowly got out of bed and grabbed the neck of my guitar, holding it over my shoulder. "Stay there,"

"Shawn," she called, "don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?"

"Shawn,"

I started walking over to the closet when Sophie grabbed my wrist. "Shawn, come back to bed." she said, in almost a seductive tone.

"What's up with you?" I confessed suspiciously, "You're different tonight."

"A good different?" she winked.

"No,"

"Isn't this want you want? Come back to bed and let's have some fun."

"No. What makes you think I want that?" I said, pulling myself out of her grasp and focusing on the small pounding that was coming from behind the closet door.

"Shawn." she said firmly.

I raised the guitar over my head as I reached for the door handle, ready to take a swing at whatever was in there. I grabbed the knob and took a deep breath before twisting and swinging the door open. Even though my room was dark, this was total darkness. I shoved my guitar forward into the closet, only hitting my clothes and other objects that were lying around. I looked about but still couldn't see anything. My guitar never hit anything foreign, so I have no clue what was making the pounding noise. As I began to shut the door, a small little firefly buzzed out.

"See, it was nothing." Sophie said from behind.

I kept my gaze on the tiny bug, watching as some kind of dark mist trailed behind it.

"Ignore it, Shawn!" Sophie basically yelled, pulling on my arm. "Please?"

I noticed how the mist began to form figures. They looked like hands—black hands. I was instantly petrified as they grabbed ahold of me; one was gripping my throat while the other was placed on the side of my face. The fingers grazed over the skin of my neck. I felt a familiar burning sensation as the figure pressed one of its fingers against my flesh. I let out a small cry from pain and fear. Beady red eyes appeared and seemed to stare right passed me and into my soul. My stomach churned and toes curled. I was aching terribly all over. My head was throbbing. I tried to reach up and grab the hands but I could barely move. This thing had a tight grip on me. The hand on my throat seemed to clutch tighter and tighter, cutting off air access to my lungs. It finally pulled me forward, only to roughly push me back to the floor and making me slam my head against the hardwood.