There's something on her wall.

She tries to reassure herself that it's simply a shadow, that it's nothing to be afraid of. When it moves however, it's too quick and she's seen that movement before. She shuts her eyes, draws her knees up to her chest, clenches her teeth. It's not real. Except it is. It's real and it's there and it's on her wall just waiting to leap off and sink its claws into her, dragging her back into that nightmare.

She opens one eye, aware of how childish it seems. There's nothing there. She opens both eyes, checks around her room, lies down on the bed. There's nothing there, it's not real, she's safe. Except she's not. The moment she closes her eyes, relaxes on the bed, she can hear something and it jolts her awake. She sits up in the bed, staring at that same spot.

It's moved.

It's moved because she moved and now it's coming to get her.

"No, no, no, not again," she mutters. Slowly, she reaches for the flashlight she keeps at the side of her bed, switches it on. She shines it around the room. Nothing. Nothing in the corners, nothing hiding behind the furniture, there's nothing there. She swallows, sighs. Puts the flashlight back, freezes.

There's something there.

And so the cycle begins again and this is how Jessica spends her nights after the events of Washington Lodge.

~

It's the next day and Jessica hasn't slept all night. She lies on the couch, she's safe to sleep now. They don't come out during the day. She dozes, is startled awake when her parents return from grocery shopping. She makes her excuses, grabs her cell and retreats to her bedroom.

She lies on the bed, scrolling through her phone. She's lost track just how many she's went through now. On being rescued, she couldn't stand to look at her last phone and accidently-on-purpose broke it. She still has the numbers of her friends stored, she hasn't spoken to them since that night. The helicopter ride home was silent, neither her nor Matt knowing if anyone else had survived.

She scrolls aimlessly through the numbers, stops. She stares at it, wondering if she should call. Her finger hovers over the button and in seconds, she's dialled the number and listening to it ring.

"Y'ello?" comes the voice from the other end. He hasn't changed a bit.

"Mike?" she says. There's a tremor in her voice and she hates it. So much for the confident persona she was so good at pulling off.

There's a pause, a sharp intake of breath. For a moment, she thinks he's going to hang up. "Jess?"

She swallows. "Yeah…"

"Hey, how are you? I haven't heard from you much." His demeanour changes, she can hear the smile, imagines him leaning back in a chair, feet on a desk. Typical Mike.

She shrugs unconsciously. "Oh you know, getting by."

"Jess, it's me. How've you been? Really?" Of course Mike would see, hear, through the façade. After it happened, they agreed to break things off quietly, Mike still too guilt-ridden that she'd fallen into the mines at all while she herself, well, she was too fucked up to do anything really.

"I hate my therapist."

Mike snorts on the other end of the phone, breaks into a laugh and she finds herself smiling too. "Yeah, that sounds just like you, Jess."

"The scars look terrible, Mike. I can't fix them, no matter what I do." No amount of foundation seems to cover them, they stand out every time she looks in the mirror.

"Yeah, I know. It'll…it'll take a while for them to all heal."

"I can't sleep at night. Every time I shut my eyes, I feel like I'm back there. And I can't…I can't…I'm so tired, Mike." She pauses, rubs her forehead. "I don't remember when I last had a good night's sleep."

His voice is quieter now and she strains to hear him. "I'm sorry Jessica. I'm so, so sorry. I was too late and I left you down there."

"You came for me, you did. I remember."

There's another pause, before Mike asks, "You've never told me what happened down there with that thing. The wendigo."

"I wandered, for hours. And I could hear it, all around me. It crawled up the walls, I could hear it screeching and making those horrible sounds." She pauses, takes a shaky breath and tries to calm her quickening heartbeat. "I didn't know where it was. Everything…my legs and my back hurt so bad, I could barely walk." She stops again, wets her lips, swallows, her throat suddenly dry. "It's why I can't sleep now, whenever I turn out the lights, I can see its shadow, crawling up my walls." She tries to will the tears back but they insist on coming. Her breath hitches, comes out shaky once more and a lump forms in her throat. "I just want to sleep, why can't I fucking sleep?"

"Jess, Jess, hey it's okay. It's over now. You're going to be all right."

She shakes her head. "Am I, Mike? My parents already think I'm some sort of…fucking whack job that just imagined all this shit."

"I know, I know. But I believe you, all right? We all believe you, all of us that were there. We know what happened, that it did happen." He stops, sighs. "You can't make that shit up."

There's silence, neither speaking, neither knowing now what to say. Mike is still on the line, she can hear his steady breathing on the other end of the phone. It is he who breaks the silence first. "Hey Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"I heard Matt was the one that got you out of the mine."

She wipes her eyes, her cheeks. "Yeah…Yeah, he did. I found him when I got lost. He got me back to the lodge." She stops, sighs. "Is he…still with Emily?"

"Yeah, as far as I know."

She gives a nod. At least they didn't break up too. "Good…Good, she makes him happy."

"Yeah, he does." He stops, clears his throat. "You okay, Jess?"

"Yeah…Yeah. I'm fine." Pauses, blows out a breath. Something catches her eye, it's too early to start. It can't be here yet. She tries focus her attention on the phone, the conversation at hand. "I'll be fine, I…guess. I'll have to be."

"You wanna meet up for a drink sometime? Get you away from your parents for a while, if you're not getting along with them."

"No, it's not that I'm not getting along with them. They're worried, I know." She glances to the door when she hears someone pass by it. "It's just…how the fuck do you even believe something like that happened? We were supposed to…It wasn't supposed to be like that…" The lump in her throat returns.

Mike says nothing, he doesn't need to.

She coughs, swallows the lump, tries to change the subject. "Did they find Josh?"

Mike sighs on the other end of the phone. "Not as far as I know. I think the search teams gave up after a while."

She stays silent, so much for that idea. She chews her lip, suddenly nervous, a churning in her stomach. Mike is the one to break the silence again.

"So! Drink. C'mon Jess, it might help." His voice is cheerful, properly cheerful.

The churning in her stomach gets worse. "But I don't…look…very good. I mean my scars, people will see them."

"Jess, I've seen them. I don't care. If anyone says anything at all to you, I'll bust their lip." On receiving no answer once more, Mike back-peddles. "I mean you don't have to, I don't wanna force you or anything. It would just be good to see you again. It's been what, months?"

Strangely she feels disappointment at not seeing him, not taking him up on his offer, despite the amount of anxiety and fear the thought causes her. She makes up her mind then and there, suddenly determined to claw back some of her old self. "Okay." She hates how timid she sounds. "Yeah, I'll go out for a drink with you."

"Awesome. I'll text you later."

Mike hangs up and Jess puts the phone down on her nightstand.