"Please join me now in a moment of silence for our beloved Chloe Nichols," the school principle said reverently to the crown of teenagers gathered in the tiny Anderson High School gymnasium.

"May she be found soon," he added as if we didn't already know the police force had given up on Chloe. It had been three weeks since she disappeared and the whole town had all but announced her dead.

This candlelight vigil was held supposedly in the hopes of continuing the hope that she was still alive. But everyone knew the true purpose of gathering every teenager in the school here and handing out the cheap dollar store candles from the convenience store down the road. The purpose was to make everyone forget. School administrators wanted classes to continue, and life to continue as normal. Slowly everyone would begin to think that the police would handle this and that there was nothing that they personally could do and the thoughts would begin to disappear from their minds.

Except for me.

Chloe Nichols was my best friend from birth. We had lived next door to each other in the same tiny suburb, on the same tiny street, in the same tiny town from the moment our mothers rushed to the hospital to welcome us into the world. We were there for each other for every scraped knee, for the childhood games of hide and seek, for the awkward middle school years, and finally for the intimidation of starting high school. We had almost made it through our childhood together. Almost.

As of three weeks ago, Chloe and I were set to graduate in two months. We were out shopping for shoes to wear under the awful yellow robes they would make us wear up on stage, and I remember vividly our conversations about how hard it was to match any high heels to the color yellow. We spent the entire day together until we went our separate ways to drive home from the mall. But that night at the Krispy Kreme in the Anderson City Mall was the last time I would see Chloe Nichols.

Sometime between her leaving the mall in her shiny convertible BMW and myself arriving home, Chloe disappeared. Her car was never found. Her body was never found. There were no leads. There was nothing but an empty hole that Chloe used to fill.

I thought it was only fitting that the person who should find Chloe was myself. I was the last person to see her and if I would only have followed her car instead of taking the quicker detour maybe I would have been able to see what had happened. Or maybe I would have been missing too. Who knows.

The silence around me hurts my ears. You could hear a pin drop in this poorly painted gymnasium but the overwhelming sound of silence is making me sick. I stand quickly to my feet, ignoring the stares of those who are instantly judging every move I make. I know they are wondering how I could ever be so rude as to interrupt my own friend's candlelight vigil, but I don't care. I am the only one in this town who hasn't given up on Chloe.

I turn down the long hallways filled with puke-green lockers and floor tiles that are chipping on the edges. Classroom lights are black, and the desks inside sit unoccupied. A bright light shines outside the door at the end of the hall caused by the brilliant sunshine. It seems the only thing that makes me feel better these days is being outside. When I'm out hiking, or sitting by the lake it seems that I am more myself than I ever was before. It's enlightening for me. It is power.

My car sits waiting for me at the edge of the lot, away from everything else. I didn't want to risk being caught in an awkward conversation where someone attempts to be apologetic. The drive is calming somehow as I listen to my music blare as I fly down Highway 55. For someone whose best friend went missing while driving, I'm not as scared of it as everyone expects. The feeling of being behind the wheel of an object that can take me anywhere I want in the world is a sense of power for me. I could leave today and never turn back. I would have no regrets.

Well, I would have one regret.

My parents passed away when I was at the young age of five. However, lucky for me, my mother had had a child at a very young age. My older sister was 18 when they died. She quickly gained custody of me and has been taking care of me ever since. She was never the type who handled responsibility well, but she did it for me. That's the only thing keeping me in Anderson, Georgia.

I was in the middle of those thoughts when everything hit me. Literally.

Lights. Flying pieces of plastic as my car hit a tree by the side of the road. My airbag deployed and slammed me against the back of my seat and my forehead became warm with the feeling of blood. Everything was spinning. I was upside down, and then I wasn't.

Then, everything stopped.

I waited several minutes before venturing out of my car. My head was spinning but nothing hurt. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I could feel the blood pumping from my head wound. I knew if I didn't find someone to help me soon, I would pass out from blood loss.

Looking around me, nothing seemed to be going on, but I knew I didn't just slide off the road. It was a beautiful sunny day; there were no deer or anything else in the road that I could have hit. But I felt it. I felt something throw my car.

The trees to my left begin to rustle and something stirs within them. My heart doubles its pumping and my terror increases. I make out the form of a person in the shadows. What is someone doing on Highway 55? There's nothing out here between the school and the next town unless you live here. And every person that lives on this road is at the candlelight vigil.

"Hello?" I call out timidly. Please answer me. Could this have been Chloe's kidnapper?

"Run." A deep voice calls out to me. It sounded anything but friendly.

My feet refuse to move though. Everything in me is telling me to keep my feet planted exactly where they are. This person won't hurt me. I know it.

"I said run!" They begin to scream, and their voice takes on a grizzly quality that I have never hear before.

"No." I speak softly. There was no way they could have heard me but I hear an almost animal-like growl coming from the trees.

Suddenly everything is moving too fast for me to imagine. I am now underneath the canopy of the forest, the sunlight is gone. I hear footsteps walking in circles around me, and the same dark figure I saw before is barely recognizable above me as my vision begins to blur. I must have gotten another head wound as I was thrown on the ground.

"You should have listened," the same voice said. The next thing I felt was a blur of air as something rushed toward me. Everything in me became angry. Who was this man who thought he could do whatever he wanted to me? What right did he have to ambush me as I was returning home? Hadn't I been through enough?

The pain began to fade from my head and I felt my body pulsing with a power I had never felt before. All of a sudden I am on my feet and every thought I am having propels forward to throw the dark figure back almost twenty feet. Strange words I have never spoken before came pouring out of my mouth and the man began to scream in agony and grasp his limbs as they were turned in every unnatural direction.

"Enough!" his voice cries for mercy.

"Why should I?" I scream back.

"I said enough!" he says quietly as his face is now only inches from mine. The wild scar-like appearance of his eyes softened until they were a deep beautiful blue. His eyes widen as he sees my face. "No," he whispers.

"What?" I say, still angry. Five seconds ago he was trying to kill me but now he wants to be my friend? Now he cares if I live or die?

"Go home and get medical attention. There is a house one mile in that direction," he stops to point, "With a phone. Go there first to call for help. Be safe, Alia."

Then, as quickly as it began, he was gone.

My feet began to move completely out of my control. What was going on? Who was that man? How was I able to control him? Who am I?