It was cold. Dark. Quiet. In one word, horrible. My legs ached. My head ached, too. My breath came in short, struggled, quite pants. I was trying to be silent, but I could hear my heart in my ears. I growled inwardly. How had this happened? How had I ended up trapped in this place, with a crazy man after me? I knew it wasn't my fault, I had never done anything to provoke him. I had a feeling it was a strike of bad luck. Correction, hellish luck. As I was arguing with myself, I heard footsteps. Barely making a sound, but energy made me hyper-sensitive. They were coming closer, the soft thuds. I held my breath trying not to be noticed, but he could probably smell me. Hell, if he couldn't, he could totally hear my heart. i prayed to whoever was listening.

'He got my family. My friends, too. Please, don't let him get me! Please!'

I realized the footsteps had stopped. I peeked down at the crack between the floor and the tablecloth that draped the table I was under. Suddenly the cloth flew up widely, exposing me and the pale, white face that was grinning back at me. A scream escaped my lips, but it was quickly cut off.

"Sweetie, you best be quiet." He leaned his gruesome face close to mine. "Just go to sleep."

Then Blackness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital. I knew, because it smelled sterile. I could hear the voices, worried and frantic voices, of my parents. I cracked open my eyes and saw them. My family and friends, surrounding me. They were okay!

"Clara, stay calm. You had a nightmare, then you fell and hit your head. You seizured. But you're okay now. Just, don't move." It was my mother's voice that had been speaking. I couldn't move my head to see her, but i could smell her. Her buttery, happy scent. My dad's face came into my view and I could feel his hand petting my head calmingly.

"When you fell you knocked over you lamp. You were cut and burned by sparks. But that doesn't matter. It's only scars."

"Scars? How bad are they?!" I wanted to ask. But my mouth wouldn't move. Why wouldn't it move!?

"Sssshhh, Clara. You're just numbed. Nothing's wrong." Someone grabbed my hand. The scent of cologne. Brady?

Before I could make sure, though, my mind collapsed. I was unconscious again.

*Time skip, one month*

I was okay. I had left the hospital days ago. I was home. So why didn't I feel safe? I knew why. The voice told me. It had said, "He's watching you. That's why you are not safe." And I believed it. Why shouldn't I?

I was in the bathroom again. I always found myself there. Any time I went into deep thought, I ended up in a bathroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The huge, puckered scar that stretched from my ear to my collarbone. The charred patches and rough scars that peeked above my shirt collar. The signed ends of my hair, so brittle the breeze could break the burnt strands. The worst parts, though, were the splotchy, mis-matched spots of skin all over my body. Some were burnt, but keepable skin. Or normal, unmarred, baby skin. Maybe there was a dab of someone else's skin that had been gifted to me. Should I say I was blessed? Blessed that the lamp hadn't cut me more than it did? Hahaha, no. By no means had i been blessed. Oh, I knew I wasn't burned and cut by a lamp. No, it was purposeful, my wounds. It was done by the man in my nightmares.

Half of my mind was horrified by the thought of seeing him again. The other half, though, waited for the day. I wanted to see him again. He was so, so… so mysterious. So alluring. I wanted to hear his voice, his laugh, his screams. I wanted to see his face, twisted and contorted with so many emotions. I wanted him, yet feared him.

My heightened sense of fear had done more to me than wrap my brain. I could smell, almost anything. And I could move more nimbly than anyone I had ever known. Doctors claim my abilities are the effects of my seizure. I know it was fear that caused the change in me.

My thoughts were invaded. By a scent. A scent of baking. My mother was baking. By the smell, she was making cookies.

Raspberry chocolate cookies, made with French chocolate and organic raspberries, to be exact.

I left my reflection in the mirror and went downstairs. My mother greeted me happily, hugging me. She and dad, unlike many others, never cared how I looked. I was still Clara, even if I was a freak. Only my parents, Brady, and Chloe saw past my marring. Brady still kissed my cheek. Chloe still hugged me tightly. I still loved them. I always would. Even if they feared me someday, I would love them.

And I would make them love me.

They all will love me. Someday.

Okay! This is great, in my mind. Tell me what you think! Ps, the beginning is a dream. In case you didn't realize that. Yes, If you read my 'The New Creepypasta' story, you will notice how both characters share names. I just love that name!

Farefarren!