Water… There's water all around me… I look around, my movements weighed down by the black, swirling liquid. I turn just in time to see the creature of the abyss swimming straight towards me, mouth gaping open. I attempt to draw in a breath for a scream. Water rushes in, filling my lungs-

Then suddenly I'm standing in a room with a red door, coughing at the phantom sense of water still in my throat. When I can breathe somewhat normally again, I look around. Oh no... I know this room…. I have to go by her, by The Lady in Red. I move towards the corner slowly, anticipation making my chest tight. I brace myself, then round the corner completely. Just like always, she jumps from the wall, her upper half grotesquely protruding from her frame; her fingers scrape the ground as she drags herself towards me at an inhuman pace. I stumble back, forgetting to run.

Right when she gets close, the gleam of the blood red key behind her wakes me from my fear induced stupor. I dash around her and scoop it up from the floor. Her hand snakes out and grabs my ankle as I try to get past her to the door. My rose twitches painfully, and a petal flutters to the ground.

"No! No, get off me! " My foot strikes out, whipping her in the face. Her pasty fingers slip from their hold and I dash to the exit. I try to fit the key in the lock, my fear-numbed fingers fumbling in my hurry. My gaze flits back over my shoulder, and I gasp; she's only a few feet away. Suddenly, the key fits, and I feel more than hear the click of the lock. Throwing open the door, I fall through the opening, spinning to slam it shut behind me.

I lean my forehead against that horrifying red door, my breaths coming in gasps. When I get them semi under control, I turn around, taking a step forwards as I do - and freeze. No….. Not again….. I trip over my own feet as I stumble back a step, landing on my butt with a dull 'whump.' The headless blue mannequin, the Lady in Red, and the bust head all inch closer.

I scramble to my feet and whip around. The door, once red, is now the gray of the unforgiving sky before a storm. I grip the knob and pull as hard as I can. It won't budge. I look back again. The monsters move even closer, and I get the most terrifying feeling that they are enjoying my horror.

I whip my attention back to the door, yanking as hard as I can, my motions frantic. "No, c'mon! Open!" I scream, no longer able to contain my panic. "Open, open, open!" Tears escape me now, slipping down my cheeks, their wetness hot against my flushed skin.

I can't stop myself from looking back once more. The demons are closer than ever; their cold eyes are full of an unreal malice. I attempt the door again, my actions operated by distress more than an actual belief that I will escape. I don't know what to do… I can't think….

"Garry!" His name escapes me before I know what's going on, my voice youthful, high in pitch. I squeeze my eyes shut , not wanting to see these horrible monsters as they feed on my fear. I back against where the door should be-

And then I'm stumbling back into a wall. My eyes snap open, and Mary is in front of me, her palette knife glinting in the florescent lights. Something red and sticky drips off the silver instrument.

"Where are you going by yourself, Ib? We promised to stay together forever, didn't we?" Her voice carries a thread of insanity; the sound fills me with dread, and I think my heart will jump from my chest and run away. I have seen stranger tonight.

She raises the knife, "We'll be together, Ib. You and me.. forever…" I can do nothing but stare, my eyes wide and frightened.

"IB!"

I hear Garry's voice shout my name, but when I try to find him with my eyes, I fall backward, the wall behind me suddenly gone. I float through nothingness, the darkness heavy, pushing in on me like it's solid. A short scream escapes my mouth before I smash into the ground, the air knocked out of me-

I started awake, screaming. I caught myself and slapped a hand over my mouth. My flesh was chilled and sweaty. My face was wet with tears. I calmed my breathing and slowly sank back down into my mattress, the feeling of falling ebbing slowly.

'Th-that horrible place again…' I shuddered, feeling goosebumps scatter icily across my limbs. I was glad Sybil went home two days ago to grab the last of her boxes and visit her parents before the school year started. My roommate had discovered that I have nightmares our first night here, but I couldn't explain why. If I told her what my dreams were plagued by, she'd think I was insane.

'Yeah, Sybil, all of my nightmares stem from a traumatic childhood experience.'

'Oh? What happened?'

'Well, when I was 9, I went to an art gallery and jumped into this really big painting. From then on, I had to survive a possibly insane artist's creations with a boy I haven't seen in 9 years and a girl who was actually a deprived, lonely, painting child.'

Uh huh. That would go well.

I sighed and pulled the coverlet up over my face. My breath gradually warmed the thick fabric. I let my mind wander back to that day. The tearful second greeting. The promise of reunion.

'Garry...'

But there had been no reunion. I'd searched for him for weeks after that awfully endless night, as much as a nine year old could, but he'd been nowhere. That was when I resigned myself to the probability that I would never see him again. It might have been the awkward age gap. He might have been scared that my parents would think he was some sort of creep or pervert. He might have been self conscious about how he looked in that time. Whatever the reason, our promise was fruitless.

I shook my head, trying to shake the loss out of my mind. I missed him… Giving my head another firm shake, I glanced at the clock on the bedside table to my right. I groaned loudly. It read 2:40 A.M. I had been asleep for literally half an hour. I huffed, and leaned over to switch on my bedside lamp. Slipping out from under the creased sheets and blankets that confined me, I made my way to the kitchen. My jacket was thrown over the back of one of the chairs, just where I had left it earlier. I grabbed a glass of water and sat on the chair, laying the jacket over my lap. I drank the water ravenously, my throat dry and sticky from screaming in my sleep. Unconsciously, I reached into the right pocket of my jacket and my hand closed around that small, tightly wrapped piece of candy.

'It's probably petrified by now,' I thought, smiling bitterly. I removed it from my pocket and rolled it around between my fingers. The soft yellow wrapper was ripped and smudged on the ends, worn out from being handled so much. Throughout the years, this little piece of candy had been my comfort, the only remainder of my knight in shining armor. Well, figuratively, anyways. I remembered his ripped coat in vivid detail, the way it brushed against my skin as I woke from my nightmare, how it was soft and rough at the same time, and how it smelled of him, of sandalwood and rain with a hint of cigarette smoke.

The memory brought moisture to my eyes; he was my best friend, the only one who would understand…. I swiped away a wayward tear angrily. 'Yeah, crying about it does so much, Ib. It changes everything,' I chided myself sarcastically. I tucked the candy back into my jacket pocket gingerly and laid my head atop my arms on the counter. My eyes fluttered closed and darkness swallowed me.

I woke slowly the next morning, my bleary eyes and sleep fogged mind slow to take in my surroundings. Then I groaned. I'd fallen asleep in the kitchen. No wonder my neck and back burned like fire.

Slowly, I unfolded myself from my chair, cringing as my back twinged. I rubbed my neck absently as I meandered back towards the bedroom. When I got there, my eyes landed on the clock for a moment before I looked around. Then I did a double take.

"Shit!" The clock read 8:35. "Oh, dammit all!" I shouted; I snatched my clothes off the back of the desk chair where I'd set them out the night before and dashed into the bathroom. 'Sybil's flight lands at 9, Ib. Get moving!' I quickly rushed through a shower, dragged a brush through my wet locks, and scrubbed my teeth furiously before dressing and running out the front door.

My converse slapped the ground as I rushed down the stairs to the parking lot, my fingers fumbling with my keys. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going; a long honk and screeching tires made my head snap up. I barely slid to a stop before colliding with the hood of a silver chevy.

"Are you insane?! Watch where you're going!" the driver snapped, and honked his horn at me again. I didn't know him, and I preferred to leave it that way.

I raised one hand and waved it slightly. "Sorry," I called, but he probably couldn't hear me over the blaring of his horn. I quickly got out of the way, and he peeled out of the lot, leaving me and my pounding heart to scamper over to my old Chrysler. Once inside, I sank against the seat to breathe for a moment. "Well, that was exciting..." I muttered before pulling myself together and turning the key in the ignition. When the display came to life, I groaned. 8:53. I was so going to be late.

Mentally chastising myself, I pulled my phone from my pocket as I steered out of the garage under our apartment building and merged with traffic. At the stop light, I dialed Sybil's number. She picked up on the second ring.

"This is Sybil."

"Hey, it's Ib. I'm gonna be a little late to pick you up. I woke up late, and had to shower, and yeah... Sorry."

Sybil laughed, "Oh, don't worry about it. I just landed anyways. So, you got some sleep?" Her tone was light, but her question carried a small tinge of worry. I'd moved in a week and a half ago, and she had noticed my insomnia almost immediately. We'd met when I had answered an add she'd placed in the paper about roommates. Her last roommate had graduated and, as a junior in college, she couldn't afford to pay the rent on her own. Her motherly personality had drawn me in, and we'd become fast friends

I shook my head, a wry smile twisting my lips. She was always worrying. "Yeah, I got a couple of hours."

"Have you thought about seeing the doctor I told you about?"

I sighed, "I stand by what I said before."

It was her turn to sigh, "He's a friend of mine, Ib. He's good at what he does. He could help."

My lips pursed as I made the turn into the parking lot, "I'm here now. I'll see you in a few."

"This conversation isn't done, Ib."

"I'll be inside in a sec."

"Ib-"

"Bye, Sybil." With that, I hung up the phone. After I found a spot, I pulled myself out of the car and locked the doors, the whooshing of airplanes puncturing the atmosphere. I rubbed the back of my neck, then followed the flow of people heading for the doors.

Suddenly, a flash of blonde hair caught my eye. Normally, something like that wouldn't have phased me, but this was so familiar… Almost other worldly. I stopped suddenly in the crowd and looked again, seeking that shock of hauntingly familiar blonde hair. She was lost in the sea of milling people… 'Okay, talk about unsettling...' I thought, and continued farther into the airport. It didn't take long for me to spot Sybil.

"Hey Ib," she greeted me, light and friendly as always despite our phone conflict. Sybil was a small girl, with dark hair and dark skin. She had hazel eyes and freckles, both of which were brought out by the curly black tresses surrounding her face. She folded me in a quick hug before letting go and grabbing her purse. I began leading her out, and she pushed a large cart stacked with boxes.

"Hey, Sybil. How was your visit?"

"Ah, y'know. I moved out less than a week ago, and already they fuss when I go home. My mom cried when I finished taking all my stuff out of the house, and dad didn't want me to leave. You'd think after two years of college, they'd get used to me leaving. But other than that, it was nothing special."

I laughed a little, "Your parents adore you."

Her smile dried up, and her eyes got that look again, the one that was both regretful and pitying, "Have you talked to your dad lately? The anniversary is coming up, right?"

Just like that, my good mood vanished. Leave it to Sybil to bring up the things I would really rather not think about, "Can we not?"

Her hand brushed my arm lightly for a split second as we escaped the flow of traffic and broke out into the midmorning sunlight, "Ib, your mom-"

"What should we do for dinner tonight?" I interrupted her, wanting to do anything other than have this conversation.

Sybil heaved a sigh as we halted by the car. Popping the trunk, I started piling her boxes in the back. "You can't keep running from everything you don't want to face, Ib; that's not how it works." With that, she popped open the passenger door and slid inside my battered car.

Shoving the last of the boxes into the trunk, I slammed the lid and crossed to the driver's side. That night flashed back into my mind as clear as crystal; I shuddered, a chill creeping through my bones. "Sometimes all you can do is run," I muttered, then joined Sybil in the front, revved the engine, and let the flow pull us home.