Prologue

My hands were shaking and my heart boomed within my chest painfully as I ran up the stairs, the carpeted steps creaked under my frantic footsteps like some kind of owl. I slipped and stumbled to my knees, my hands grabbed at the railing to steady myself and I grunted out a lungful of air. I don't even know how I tripped. I'm not a clumsy person. I dance. Not that that would make me any better at running up stairs, but my mom said once that it gave me better balance. So I guess maybe it'd help, although I'm not sure.

My dad always trips up the stairs outside our house, where the hose and mom's garden pots sit. When he comes home from work he tries to take them two at a time and always catches his toe on the top of the steps, he doesn't fall down completely, he just trips then recovers. But he curses under his breath and his voice shakes from the fear, because almost falling is sometimes scarier than actually falling. He does it almost every night. My mom said to me that it was because he's so tired from work, but I think he's just clumsy.

"Get up!" I felt someone's hand grip under my armpit, it shocked me. I dropped my hands from the wooden railing awkwardly and looked to see who had grabbed me. "Quickly…," It was Quinn. Her words weren't yelled, but they sounded loud. Panicked. I tried to stand but couldn't, and my body slumped into her legs.

I was quite positive I was sitting on my feet, maybe they had gone numb. My arm went numb once after I had laid on it all night. I couldn't move and my fingers felt fat, even though they weren't, I had looked just to make sure. It went away after a few minutes. My legs felt like my arm did. Numb.

Quinn ignored the fact I bumped her legs and tugged on me again, I think she was trying to convince me to stand. Not that I needed convincing. My legs were just asleep. Quinn probably wouldn't have known what I was on about if I said that though, or maybe she would. I could ask her. She might be able to like, carry me up the stairs… no, that seemed unfair. Was unfair. I wouldn't have liked to carry someone up the stairs.

I pinched my lips together and looked up at her, her hair fell out of her headband messily. I wondered if my hair looked messy. It probably did. I didn't have it up in a ponytail, it was just out and it got tangled easily. I wanted to explain that my legs were numb but someone else grabbed me, they came up from behind me and I jumped when two hands gripped my waist. Quinn still held under my armpit and my body was in a weird kneeling position, I had never kneeled on stairs before now, and it was awkward. Probably why my legs felt dead.

"You alright…, come on, stand up." Santana's voice was low and rushed and her hands tightened around my waist as she pulled me upwards, Quinn also tugged me and I felt like a ragdoll.

Not the cat kind, but the doll kind. My little sister had one when she was younger and we'd take turns trying to throw the doll in the tree outside our house. Whoever got the highest won. I accidently chucked the doll too high once and it got stuck on a branch, my sister cried for a whole hour until I climbed up and got it down. After that she didn't like playing.

My legs uncurled from under me as Santana and Quinn pulled me into a standing position, and I slapped my hand on Quinn's forearm to steady myself, I think my nails pinched her skin, although she didn't react so maybe they didn't. My legs didn't feel numb anymore, not like they had when I'd been sitting. They just felt cramp-y and my knees felt bruised.

Santana's hands left my waist and her palms pressed into my back, "Keep moving," She said.

So I did. Quinn still held onto me, except this time she clutched my wrist and she dragged me up the remaining stairs. Santana kept her palms on my back. The house we were in was dark; well it wasn't even really a house. It was like a castle. Or a mansion, although I think they are the same thing. It was big whatever it was. And cold.

My stomach felt like it dropped when I remembered why we were running in the first place. Why Quinn was so scared and Santana was talking so low, it was because Puck thought it'd be cool to spend a night in a haunted house… well, it wasn't just that. But that was what started it. I think when things started to get scary it all kind of fell apart. Although I'm not sure, because I didn't see what Quinn had seen and I didn't hear what Santana heard. So I don't even really know when it got scary.

But when Quinn had screamed I felt scared. So I guess it could have started there.

Because after she screamed we were running, and my heart began hurting from beating so hard and my hands started shaking. So I think it began when Quinn screamed.

A/N: Continue? *_*