It has been months, and I assure you, I am safe. Life here is different. Long, hard hours on the job. Countless attempts at trying to move on with my life. I still find myself watching, waiting, and wondering if they going to get me; if they're still there. Nonsense. I know. But, I don't want to be caught off guard again.

I know it's been many years, but it was too much for me. I still see the hatred in their bloodthirsty eyes, and feel the disgust as they lay hands on me. The scars they created still screams with pain as if they will forever relive their births. The nightmares, they're real, they force me to relive it all. Every night. It frightens me still, the way they seemed to have marked and cursed me that day. The group of cloaked and masked people drug my broken body to the center of the circle. It was an odd design; it looked like something occult, but then again, it did seem to be a cult. Their masks were white and covered the top half of their faces, leaving their lips visible. They formed a crowd around the outskirts of the circle. That's were it really began.

To our great savior and lord, said some man adorn with a red priest's stole, Zalgo, we humbly present to you this gift of our gratitude. We ask that you receive it well. The a dull murmur of some chant was heard as my wrecked body contorted off the ground. Every single nerve I had was set ablaze in agony. Six voices spoke with intent, but they seemed to speak in tongues. The very language of evil; not that I realized that then. The intense pain wasn't like anything I've felt before. It was like a indescribable burning; it was unbearable.

My vision faded and my body fell limp. My body, try as it may to protect me, could not. Even unconscious the pain persisted; as well as voices that still spoke in tongues. I don't remember when the cult stopped their chant, or when the police officers raided the place. I don't even know how I got to the hospital, but I remember the pain dulling to a dull ache. The voices quieted to a light whispering, but they still spoke in tongues. PTSD, that's what the doctors settled on. They said the things I see, the voices, and the pain aren't real. That my mind is scarred and is making me see, hear and feel these things. They gave me five medications; each one for a different reason. PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, schizophrenia, and hallucinations; all due to the PTSD they said. Two doses twice a day for each.

The also gave me a mild sedative for when my symptoms flare up. I'm only suppose to take one dose if I need it. They help, but I still have trouble with social situations. I can't work a regular job; too many people sparks my episodes. I work the graveyard shift at a cemetery, funnily enough. Not too many people up around this time of night, and if there is, I tell them the cemetery is close for the night. Most people here though respect the dead, and leave them be during the night.

Well, sorry for rambling. Love you, papa. Hope to see you soon.

Love,

Alice Witherstone

Alice stood to stretch after she finished the letter to her father. He was the only family she had left, because everyone else wanted nothing to do with hell spawn. After her mother died to protect Alice, before she was taken, people were certain the twelve year old was cursed. She had nothing in the way of siblings either; just cousins that despised her. Something she never told her father.

Due to the constant social distress along with the PTSD getting worse, her doctor asked if she had considered the option to move. He even gave her a list of recommended doctors in nation wide. Her father had planned to move close by, but the sweet little boy next door looked up to him. Alice had a hunch that her father and the boy's mother had a lot more in common then they lead on; so Alice told him to stay put for now.

Alice sighed as she took in her surroundings. She was in what she deemed her office, but in reality it was a small shack fashioned with a silver themed kitchenette, the sheet rock were painted cream, and white tiled floor. There was a tan couch that faced the bathroom door that resided along the opposite wall. A small round table and four chairs occupied the middle of the room; the set was a oak brown. There was also a fridge and stove for worker's convenience.

She noticed the clock station, where worker's clocked in and out, the clock was getting close to midnight. The witching hour. Alice checked the bathroom before she'd go patrol the graveyard for a bit. The same white floors and cream walls greeted her as the light flickered on reluctantly. The white sink, toilet, and bathtub sat there; waiting to be used.

She caught herself looking over her reflection; evidence of her being cursed. Fiery curls turned to straight, beige hair that was braided down her back. Her wide set brown iris changed to yellow-green eyes; that everyone was sure glowed in the darkness. Once tanned skin, now a silky, ivory. Her lips and cheeks became a duller, pale pink. Everything had been altered, and no one knew how. Alice shook her head of the thoughts, and turned the light off as she headed outside.

The eerie graveyard feeling sunk into Alice as soon as she locked up her office. She turned on her flashlight as she headed away from the entrance. She strolled down along the pathway, closer towards the wooded area that surrounded the area; not noticing the time as it inched it's way closer to midnight. As she made it to the iron fence, the clock tower nearby started to chime.

Alice froze as the wind whipped stray wisps of hair around her. The air stilled to the point even the buried corpses could be heard as they decayed. The scent of despair rolled off Alice in waves, as a shaky hand reached for her leather satchel she always wore. A loud screech from a lingering crow startled Alice out of her stupor. She whipped around and dashed for the entrance, where she'd hide out in her office the rest of here shift.

However, before she could make it very far she was tackled to the ground. Panicked, Alice elbowed her attacker, got up, kicked them to the groin, and continued to run. Unfortunate for her, the attacker was able to recover quicker than she had thought they would. Alice was pushed to the ground roughly where she instinctively rolled onto her back to see her predator. The figure was dressed in a dirty stripped jacket, orange goggles, and a black face guard that made him seem as if he was smiling. A tuft of chestnut hair peeked form beneath his hood.

He stood over Alice as he lifted up an ax, and she landed a kick to his stomach. As he fell back onto he's back, Alice took this chance to run to the office. Once she hastily unlocked the door she flew in, slammed the door in the guys face, – the loud bang, as he ran into it, confirmed this – and bolted it. She backed away slowly, the door wouldn't hold with the guy's axes, but she wasn't going down quietly. Then the door thudded before another thud was heard.

Alice turned to the window beside the entrance fence, quietly she opened it before climbing out, and hopped the fence. She ran South towards the forest, because if she ran North she'd alert the guy chopping door the door. She knew a way to cut back around to town, but first she needed cover to throw off this loon.