"I whispered, 'You're not real,' my voice hoarse from shouting and screaming half an hour ago. I moved my head away from the cold metal headboard of the bunk bed I was leaning against and then swiftly banged it back. 'You.' I said, feeling a pain in my forehead. 'Real.' I heard the sound of a door. 'Not.' As I reunited my forehead with the cold metal of the bunk bed, I inhaled the sour smell of my blood. 'You are not real.' Just as I was about to hit my forehead against the metal again, a strong hand grasped my wrist. I didn't turn to look as it pulled me back. I already knew who it was. The killer. My killer."All Rights Reserved