I don't own anything except my OCs.

I'll appreciate any feedback, I've read almost every Michael romance fic and wanted to contribute. Sorry if y'all don't like it or I get things wrong. I also don't know how I want this to go.

I clench my fists, an unnatural amount of red liquid gushing out of my hands. It coats my arms, pouring like a waterfall in slow motion. Everything seems slow and agonizing. I look up to meet her dreadful gaze for what seems like the thousandth time. Hate filled-grey eyes staring into my brown ones; tears prickling and spreading down my pale face. She opens her mouth and lets out a blood curdling scream while pointing a red jagged talon at me.

I could barely gasp for air, my eyes popping open. My fingers and toes twitch, but nothing else is moving. I scanned the walls and furniture of my dark bedroom. I was horrified to see so many shadows and shapes twisting and turning, it never ends. I feel sick to my stomach as my eyes reach my bedroom door, it's ajar. Someone or something is there watching me. A pale face appears within my vision. Her grey eyes looking in at me. My chest rises and falls faster, sweat beading all over my body. I felt like I was being choked as I tried desperately to scream for my father. Whimpers barely escape from me in the form of fast breathing.

A twisted hand reaches inside the door, red nails start to silently rake and tap against the door frame. I feel sick from anxiety and close my eyes. Sleep paralysis, right after a nightmare. My thoughts are now plagued with visions of my mother hovering over me, screaming and bleeding all over me. Daring me to look into her cursed eyes. I feel my body trembling with my heart thumping loud and fast in my chest.

I lie there for what feels like an eternity; I'm too afraid to look. I eventually hear a door shut and footsteps from down the hallway; I'm now able to move my body after testing all my digits and limbs. I slowly throw my legs over the edge of the bed. My heart is still racing as I slowly come to a stand and head towards the door way. "Dad..?" I call out to him in a soft voice. I carefully pull my door open and take a step into the hallway, with light steps I make my way to the open bathroom door. My heart is still pounding from what I could only guess has been the past hour. My hand reflexively reaches up to curl my fingers in my mousy brown hair. My breathing started to settle to a normal rate as I approach the door I notice my dad is observing himself in the mirror.

He seems to be preparing for work. My heart sunk, hating the feeling of being alone on a Saturday. He's spent days in his office at different times. I watch him as he turns on the water and brushes his teeth. I'm lost in my thoughts, my mother seeming to pull me back into memories of my nightmares as the running water becomes white noise. I hate the colors red and grey. Her wickedness has ruined those colors for me. I endlessly think about her and all the horrors that plagues my nightmares. She's no doubt, down there ruining the Devil's sleep as we speak.

I'm pulled out of my trance as I hear my dad yell, causing me to scream in response as my heart feels like it's going to burst from the sudden excitement. We both jump back from each other, my dad holding his toothbrush like a knife. I glance around and give a sigh of relief as it seems there are no intruders or screaming she devils. I begin twisting my hair to relieve my nerves. My dad lowers the toothbrush and gives out a huff of breath he must have been holding.

"We talked about this. You need to make noise when you approach people. You're going to come across the wrong person one day, Macey." He gives me a stern and irritated look which is shortly replaced with one of concern as his eyes wash over my face. "You look sick." He reaches his hand out to brush his knuckles against my cheek and forehead. I look down in response, focusing on the design of the hardwood floor.

"It keeps.. happening.." My eyes close as tears escape my eyes, I take comfort in his cool hand touching my hot skin. I bite my lower lip as my nerves start wearing me down again. I hate talking about her to him. I know he loved her more than anything. His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "She would have never hurt you, Macey. She went through with everything so you could live." I only answered him with silence. This conversation never goes anywhere. Therapy did nothing and pills didn't help either. I only slept well outside of this house. There were pictures of her everywhere.

I finally gave my dad a nod and passed him to go to the kitchen. I stopped halfway through to my destination and looked over our collection of family photos. Her grey eyes already struck my heart with fear. A senior picture, a rare occasion of her wearing black. I observed her features, comparing them to mine. I got her pale skin and other small facial features. She was more thin in her structure, her face more long and narrow than mine. Her long black hair framed her face like the shadows from my nightmares. I shivered and ignored the rest of the pictures.

I glance up at the clock and do a double take. "6:15 a.m.. Ew." I shake my head, refusing to sleep any longer. I sigh and start going through the cabinets. After a few minutes of indecisively grabbing and putting back snack items, I settle on a bag of pretzels. I sit down at the table and munch on a few in silence. I feel my hair raise up on the back of my neck and as I feel my thoughts drifting back to my nightmares. I only ate 5 pieces before clipping up the bag and shoving it back in the cabinet.

"This isn't going to work." I whisper under my breath. I hear my dad's footsteps and wait next to the counter in plain sight. He's dressed in his usual work attire, his short and neat hair that was once my brown color is now dulling with age. His brown eyes met hers and he gave her a loving smile. "Plans for the day?" I shook my head in response and he frowned. "Go spend time with your friends or something. You look like you need air." I nodded, I'm terrible at confrontation. "I'll go on a walk first.." I spoke to him softly, earning a nod of approval. He grabbed his coat and his keys. "I don't know when I'll be back. Either tonight or tomorrow morning, you know where everything is." He spoke in a rushed voice and headed out the door without a second glance. I grip the counter and watch as he pulls out of the driveway. My grip loosens as he disappears down the road. I head back to my room to get some clothes on. I pass by the family pictures with my hands cupping around my eyes to block my vision of her.

I began my morning walk almost two hours earlier than usual, but whatever it took to get my thoughts clear. I alternated between walking and jogging until I realized I took a different route than usual. I came to a stop and looked back to get a view of the street. "Lampkin Lane…" I barely whispered and squinted my eyes in confusion and mild disbelief. How have I gotten so off track? I felt chills run up my spine as every news paper clipping I've ever read about the Myers house came to the front of my mind. I felt like I was going to vomit. Cursed photographic memory, cursed grey eyes and witchy red nails, cursed Lampkin Lane!

I gritted my teeth and felt as though hundreds of butterflies were flapping all in one spot in an attempt to escape. I turned around slowly and took in the street. I paused, my breath hitching. My heart pounding all over again from fear of the legend himself. I stop my turning as I find the old house that was abandoned years ago after the incident. There it stands, right across the road from me. My heart thudded in my chest as I felt as though I were surrounded by something ready to pounce. I'm now on high alert, ready to run screaming and jumping fences if anything pursued me. I suddenly feel naked and vulnerable without anything to defend myself.

Why did I let myself come here? I hate being scared and taking risks. My friend, Avery, had been begging me to come here. If they all saw me here now, no doubt they would drag me inside to investigate. I was starting to lose myself again, until I saw one of the curtains just barely move on the top floor. I froze, my eyes widening like dinner plates. I watched and didn't dare move as I focused my eyes on the window. I felt the icy fingers of fear touching my spine again. I took very slow and shallow breaths as I didn't dare look away from the window.

It was like sleep paralysis all over again, not moving or speaking. I began to allow my fingers to twitch and slowly brought my hand up to my hair. My stiffness starting to melt away as I reason with myself on how silly I was being.

"Mice.. draft.. trapped birds.." I whispered the possibilities. I exhaled softly and averted my gaze after probably 7 minutes of staring and being paralyzed by fear. I glanced at the house once more before turning on my heel and running back to my usual route.

I fully focused on my surroundings, mostly jogging until I reached a street closer to my house. I continued on for about 30 more minutes until I started walking passed a guy around my age that was mowing his grass; looking up at me, he flashed a smile. I gave an awkward smile and slowed my walking to a near stop as he shut off his lawnmower and started to approach me. He is a few inches taller than me, I stand at about 5'7". I already feel my breath catching in my throat as he stalks up to me. I watch him in silence as he stops about 3 feet away. I really don't like confrontation. I've never seen this man before in my life.

Since he's up close and personal now, I extend my hand out to him, in which he accepts it in his firm and intimidating grip. He seems very confident with how he carries himself, it makes me feel small. "I moved in with my friend a week ago. I noticed you out on your jogs and I'm just now getting to meet you." I give him the best smile I can, noting that I need to change up my route a bit. It seems my socially awkward trait is rubbing off on him as he's standing there, hands buried in his jeans seeming to be at a loss of words.

He looks up at me with dark eyes, and then back down the street as if he's expecting someone. I follow his gaze and see nothing, starting to feel urges to run. "Oh, you forgot to mention your name." he smirked and watched me as I stiffened up. I felt that same fear before, like I'm about to get pounced on. I start to breathe a bit quicker and keep my eyes locked on his. "Anna.." I muttered and glanced at the ground, avoiding his gaze, hoping it's enough to make him happy. "Well.. Anna. I'm Jared Franklin. Maybe we could go out sometime." He lets out a small snort, as if he'd just made a funny remark.

My arm trembled as I gave a small wave and turned to begin jogging again. I hate myself, why am I like this?