Little Red & Her Demons

Chapter 1

"The dream always ends the same way, Dr. Harman." I sat up in the black sofa chair, and looked my psychiatrist in the eyes. "He gets angry and everything goes black."

"Do you think this dream could be representing something happening in your life right now?" He asked, scribbling words across his clipboard. Inside, I knew that it was never a dream. It was real, alright. I had the scar to prove it, but I didn't think showing my psychiatrist a scar and claiming a werewolf did it was going to score me any points in life.

The police said my scar was a result of me running in the forest, that a branch scraped me, and that I was just in shock. They said it was a fire that sealed the doors of the house shut and caused everyone to die. But, I knew better.

I saw it happen.

I saw Drew Vorhees get ripped to shreds.

I tasted the salty tears I cried.

I heard Vivian scream in pure terror.

I felt the lips of that guy... or wolf...on mines.

And all of those things haunt me everyday.

But, when I'd explained this to my mother she simply did not believe me. Instead, she forced me to see Dr. Harman every Tuesday. In her mind, she was helping me, but I knew it was just so I would be seen as her perfect angel again to her friends. People looked at me like a hero, while others looked at me as if they wished they could trade my life for the life of their kids or friends.

I understood how they felt. I had felt that same feeling when my brother, Xander, went to the army. My dad practically forced him because he didn't like the fact that my brother wanted to be an artist.

I had cried several days following his depart. It just didn't make any sense to me how he could do that to his own son. We have enough money for me and Xander to never have to work a day in our lives, but that wasn't enough for my father. From then, a deep hate began to sprout inside me for my father. It grew and grew through the years and is almost a sad little tree now.

"Honestly, Dr. Harman," I looked down at my iPhone. There were more messages from Bianca. "I am not sure." I stood up out of the chair and grabbed my bag. "See you next week."

"Alright, don't be late next time." He replied, and I nodded.

"I wasn't late this time, you were early." I winked and left the room. I exited the building and rushed to my car to get out of the brisk, cold air. I rubbed my hands together for warmth before looking back at Bianca's texts. Bianca was my friend before I was popular. She was my best friend actually. She wasn't anything like Vivian and Iana, so she wasn't at the party that night. She, like me, was one of the lucky ones.

Please talk to me, D.

I know you can see these.

Stop being difficult.

Call me, plz Dionne.

I have to talk to you.

DIONNE it's urgent.

OH MY GAHD. CALL ME ALREADY.

I huffed, annoyed with her relentless texts and started the car. I drove off down the street towards my house. It wasn't far because this was definitely not a huge town. In this town, word gets around fast and you can practically do nothing too fun. Hence, why Nick, the party guy, wanted to use the abandoned building so badly. Nick was a good guy. I wish I could've told him no.

I pulled into my driveway with an eyebrow raised. There was a black BMW parked next to me. I grabbed my purse and got out the car. I walked up the driveway and spotted Gabriel sitting on my front porch. Upon hearing my heels, he looked up.

"Hey, Dionne." He said, lowly with a kind smile. I rolled my eyes. Gabriel was my crush for most of my life, but he was also Bianca's older brother. We used to all be bestfriends, but when Gabriel got on the football team I caught the eye of Brad. So, you could say I kind of ditched them. Gabriel hated Brad for a while because he thought he would hurt me, but they were teammates, and that's a strong bond.

"Hi, Gabriel."

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, standing up. I moved past him to open my front door.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I just wanted to see if you were really alright, because-" I pushed open the door, and peeled off my jacket. I hung it on a rack and made my way to the kitchen. He shut the door and scuttled after me. "Well, because I never got to check on you the way I wanted."

I opened the fridge, pulled out grapes, and walked back through the foyer to the living room. He followed close behind. "What took you so long to come?" I questioned, sinking into the couch. He took a seat next to me. I turned on the television and began scrolling through Netflix.

"You see, it's just that-" He sat up straight. "The night of the party, I got a call from Brad. He seemed pretty smashed, and the music was loud, but then," I looked over at him. He ran a hand through his hair and swallowed. I looked into his somber brown eyes expectantly. "But then, there was this- this growling noise. It was terrifying and I heard Brad scream, but it was in pain. I have never heard anything like that in my life, Dionne." His eyes watered, and he swallowed slowly again.

I gave him a tight smile, placing my hand over his and squeezing gently. He'd heard the werewolves tear Brad apart. Tears fell from my eyes as I watched him fight his own.

"Hey, it's okay."

"No, it's not. I need you to tell me what happened at that party, Dionne." He said, and I bit my lip. He would think I'm insane.

"It was just a fire, I left through the woods because I went outside to get air-"

"Don't tell me that bullshit story. I heard others screaming as well, but guess what? None of them yelled fire, and there was no cackling of flames. It was just growling, tearing, and screaming." He looked me deep in the eyes. "What really happened out there Dionne? I heard something attacking Brad, so please tell me what happened." His eyes were pleading with me. I recoiled from him and stood up.

"You- you need to leave."

"Dionne, don't shut me out." He stood and pleaded. I stepped back and pointed to the front door. "You need some sleep. Go home, Gabe. I'll see you at school." I looked down at my navy blue painted toenails, not wanting to see his sadness anymore. My knees were barely holding me up.

Gabe hunched his shoulders and left the room. When I heard the front door shut, I dropped down and sobbed. An immense feeling of melancholy surrounded me like a dark cloud. All those people are dead. All of my friends are dead. They won't ever get to grow old with kids. They're lives are stuck there in that house. They're souls are reliving that party over and over again. They're trapped there. Oh God, this guilt- this guilt is worse than death.

I wished I could call for my parents, but they were no better than the icy cold marble floor beneath me. I bawled then and ended up falling asleep upon the living room couch.

It's been two months. When will this guilt let up?