Rebecca's eyes fluttered open, like black shredded butterflies being ripped in two halves.

She was still cuddled up tightly under her purple and white flowered quilt, her lemon-water-yellow teddy bear still hugged tightly in her arms.

She sat up sidey ways, setting the doll aside. And looked around the room… something was amiss.

That's when she saw Bridgette's bed… the stone grey quilt thrown a side, the crisp white pillow had fallen to the floor, and Bridgette was no where to be seen.

But where could she have gone?

Rebecca glanced at the clock, 3:03 a.m.

Perhaps she needed a drink… or had to use the rest room..., Rebecca thought up several logical scenarios.

She looked out the window… the bright moon shined straight threw. So clear and bright. But so strange… something possessed Rebecca to go to the window.

She pushed her blanket aside completely, and pulled her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet touched the floor.

"Oh!" the soft voice escaped her lips. It was cold… icy cold.

She took only a few second to pull her pieces back together and brace herself for the icy floor.

I thought it was supposed to be hot during the summer, she thought. Maybe just a little bitterly.

She stood beside her bed; her long white nightgown fell to her ankles. She walked around, and past her bed… past the space inbetween, then pass Bridgette's, then into the nook made by the closet to her left.

She glanced it… her pink denim coat, Bridgette's black trench coat, three of her skirts, a collection of around twelve of Bridgette's skirts, five of her dresses, and two of Bridgette's dresses. A nice collection.

But Boy Oh Boy did their sense of fashion differ.

She turned her eyes forward again, and took the four or five steps to the window. The window wasn't big, a normal hole in the wall. Though it was round, this was different in Rebecca's opinion, anyway.

She glanced out… and nearly gasped aloud.

There was Bridgette… out side… at this time of night… warring just that. She was sitting… sitting on the little stub of a back porch… and…

Wait..., Rebecca thought, is she… she's… she's… Bridgette is flickering!

Rebecca couldn't believe her eyes… Bridgette was sitting right there, and she flickered… like a TV or a computer image would, if the power were being messed with. Bridgette flickered.

Though the scene may have lasted a total of four of five or six seconds.

Then she stood up… and a full smile spread over her pumpkin colored lips… but dropped quickly. She turned her head, and looked straight at the window… the glass… as if she knew Rebecca was there!

Rebecca gasped and jumped back… she stood as still as ice, as if she were a statue frozen in time, for a good long minute, trying to sort out what to do next.

All logic had about been thrown out the window at this point.

Rebecca began to step back… walking backward… until she was at her bed… she walked to where she had been sitting up in bed, and sat there with her legs crossed, the blankets still thrown a side, she hugged her yellow bear tight in her arms.

… And waited for Bridgette's foot steps to come up the stairs.

.

It was only a few minutes before the door came open.

Rebecca hadn't even heard any of the doors open and close, hadn't heard Bridgette's steps on the stairs, nothing. Not even the door to her very room open.

"Becky…?" Bridgette said, staring at her through the dark.

She seemed about the same.

Bridgette rushed some over to her bed, clicking on the little bed-side lamp that was between them, she sat at her bed, showing off her typical horrible posture, this time leaning forward. She set both of her arms at her side, gripping the side of her mattress gently.

"Becky? Is something wrong? What's wrong with you?"

"You were outside… I saw you." Rebecca said softly, not looking at Bridgette.

"Yeah… so?" Bridgette asked, her stare unwavering.

"Why?" Rebecca tried to keep her voice steady and blank.

"Why not?" Bridgette shot back, and then snickered some. "But no, for real. I was feeling a little nauseous. I needed some fresh air."

"You were flickering…"

"What?!"

"You… Bridgette… you flickered. I saw you."

"Rebecca, you gotta be kiddin' me!" Bridgette laughed. "You're not serious? Are you?"

"Actually, I am." Rebecca looked at Bridgette for the first time, a little of her long orange hair fell in her face. "You were flickering… I saw you."

Silence.

"Man… you really are serious…" Bridgette spoke softly. She pulled herself back into bed more, and sat with her legs crossed in front of her, her hands now rapped around one leg. "Ok… let's say I was "flickering"… you probably dreamed it."

"I didn't dream it!" Rebecca said powerfully, but still in almost a whisper. "I know I didn't. I felt the floor, I felt how cold it is, I felt the glass, and I felt the sill."

"Ok then…" Bridgette thought again, strand of her long hair fell in her face. She was so cool… so calm… so melancholy… so blank. "Maybe it was the wind… or the night, the night loves to play tricks on people…"

"But it's a perfectly clear night."

"Well, then, maybe it was the tree… there's a tree right out side that window. Maybe the wind blew the tree branches, and they caused shadows, and the shadows made it look like that."

"It's possible…" Rebecca said softly, giving up her surety. Maybe it was a mistake.

"A lot more possible then me flickering…" Bridgette said, a dab of her old sarcasm mixed in.

"Yeah… you're right." Rebecca muttered… the truth was, she didn't know if she believed it or not.

"Good. Can we go to sleep now?"

"Yeah," Rebecca said, laying back down and pulling the covers up to her chin.

Bridgette turned off the light… and that was the end of it.

Or so Rebecca thought…

.

The next few days… three days, to be exact… went by.

It seemed nothing was strange… nothing amiss… to Rebecca. Except… Bridgette. Her behavior was different… different then Rebecca remembered.

For the first part, she was ten times quieter. She seemed drawn and to herself. Perhaps, even, secretive.

She spent way less time with Rebecca then she could have thought… together, the cousins did all the chores. Washing dishes, hanging laundry, preparing meals, cleaning everything… but when they weren't doing the necessaries, Bridgette didn't spend much time with Rebecca.

And, all color had vanished from Bridgette's attire.

She now wore a form-fitting black shirt with a low collar, elbow-length sleeves, and scrunchiness under the breast... and she never wore her hair up anymore…

And, still to add to the list of strange things, she had begun a little group of local children… although, there weren't that many people in the small town… Your basic tiny farming community, right?

But still… Bridgette now had quite a few "friends".

But these "friends"… there was something strange about them. They seemed a pack, but if you watched them--- I mean really, watch them--- it seemed they all followed Bridgette… like she was their leader or something.

As cruel as it sounds, Rebecca would have thought they all would have shunned Bridgette as a witch or something…

But that clearly wasn't the case.

Although, from the adults, she had heard many stories about her dear cousin… the Monroe sisters, who were now just three old ladies, bickered between them that Bridgette was a witch… but, to Rebecca at least, it seemed everyone had their own tale about Bridgette.

How strange, it all seemed to Rebecca… strange, but not unexpected, with one dressing like her dear cousin in such a small religious town.

But they were just rumors, right? Perhaps Bridgette was merely winning over the hick children with things not of small country life, and the adults only found her appearance strange… perhaps, she win them all over eventually…

Right?

Wrong.

.

Rebecca never saw it coming.

No one did.

Rebecca never saw it coming… not even after that night in the corn field.

But you don't know about that night in the corn field, yet… do you?

Of course not. Allow us to educate you.

.

It was that very night… after three days time had passed since the first night, when Rebecca could have sworn she saw Bridgette flickering.

We've already caught you up, have we not?

Well good, then let's get on with it.

It was night, again, but not late, some time after sun down, even before the smaller children went to bed.

Rebecca was playing with the closet… trying on an assortment of clothes, just because.

At the current time, she had on a pain red skirt that hung to her ankles with a puffy white sleeveless blouse. Her hair was down. She was adoring herself in the mirror.

That was when she saw it, a flickering light, in the corn field… some-what far out.

Rebecca had been caught by it for a moment, and stood staring over her shoulder at it… before she had half way turned, and walked to the window sill… gazing out at the dark but early night.

Flickering… flickering light.

Something… something in her stomach… a gut feeling… told her to investigate.

So, in a spontaneous rush, she dashed from the room… down the hall, down the stairs, where she stopped to quickly throw on her flick-flops, then through the rest of the rooms, into the kitchen, and slowed dramatically by the back door.

She stopped at its presence, not admiring it… but thinking of what it meant.

Things weren't normal with Rebecca… to her, everything meant something. Nothing was as it seems.

There was no time for this, she realized, and yanked at the knob, pulling it back, the door came wide open, she fled through without so much as even closing it… though she heard the old rusty screen door squeak loudly to a banging close on it's own.

Rebecca resumed her dash.

She dash through the back yard, the lush green grass tickling her ankles. She dashed pass the huge oak, withered and ugly with time. She dashed straight into the corn field.

She was running through it, running straight forward, when she stopped… and realized what she was doing.

She analyzed the situation again.

It wasn't a very good idea to just jet straight through and right on into whatever was the cause of the flickering light. She ought to slowly approach.

… And so she did.

She crept slowly threw the rows, quietly brushing aside the stocks, when she began to hear voices.

They were mummers at first, but as she drew closer, they grew clearer.

Rebecca crouched close to the ground, and came almost to the edge of where a circular clearing began.

She looked past the few stocks in her way and bit her lip.

Inside the clearing, there was Bridgette. There was Bridgette and her collection of village kids.

Good God she had a lot of kiddy friends.

Rebecca remained as quiet as she could, stressing--- even though she didn't have to--- to hear their every word.

The kids all sat in a circle on the ground, all gathered around a dim and dull fire. They sat with their legs crossed. Bridgette stood above them, at the far end of the clearing from Rebecca. She looked so much like their leader like that.

Bridgette was saying something, but by the time Rebecca had managed to toon in, she was no longer speaking.

"Yeah? Then what have we been doing these past few days?" a skinny boy, about Bridgette and Rebecca's age, demanded. He had white/blonde hair that curled delicately around his pale face, and icy blue eyes like crystalized glass. He dressed in an tight-fitting orange button-up shirt, long sleeves folded up to his elbows, the first button or two undone, and the earholders of relfective black sunglasses clipped to his front pocket... with this; brown pants and a black belt. Rebecca had to admit; he was rather attractive.

"We?" Bridgette hissed. "You mean, what have He and I been doing… we have been gathering! Did you think the soldiers of He just appear out of no where? No. You were mistaken, David. We have been gathering… gathering together."

"Yes, that's all well and good…" a short, red haired girl of about twelve spoke now. "But what about our mission… when are we to begin?"

"Dearest Abigail…" Bridgette paused for effect. "Do not doubt… He Who Walks Behind the Rows would not summon us without need… He is with us, and He beckons our patience… There is much to be done, and He will show us when it is time."

"If He is as you say," David chimed. "then why would He Who Walks Behind the Rows choose you? A woman… and a naive woman, at that."

Bridgette shot a glance at him that turned Rebecca's heart to ice… she had never seen such a glare before… it was pure malice. "Is someone a tad bit jealous?" Bridgette smirked and snickered. "Question not He, for He will always make his judgment known. He works not without purpose."

"What must we do before our sign come?" a blonde boy with a face full of freckles of the age of about eight asked.

"Wait…" Bridgette said simply. "We wait, and we gathered whom He beckons. He will tell us when it is time… and our work, as the loyal children of He, shall be carried out. Simple as that."

She said the last part so slowly… so painfully slowly.

.

The next day came and saw Rebecca.

Rebecca was seriously messed up by what she had seen.

Logic was everything to Rebecca. She believed that, no matter what, if one had logic and if one were able to think everything through, they'd be alright.

But this wasn't logical.

She tried to sort it out, tried to put the pieces together. It just didn't seem right… who was "He"… what was their "mission"… why were they banning together like that? Was Bridgette really their leader? Was thing connected to the previous strange events?

It just didn't add up.

Rebecca thought about it all the time, all night, all the next day, it plagued her mind the whole day through. These questions with no answers.

But Rebecca came to her own conclusion, non-the-less.

The first explanation; she hadn't seen what she thought she saw… perhaps it was a dream, or a hallucination… certainly not a whole bunch of kids led by her cousin speaking of someone they called "He" commanding them on some sort of mission.

The second, and final; that she hadn't seen anything, at all. That it had never happened, never been. She merely dismissed it, as non-existent.

Although, Rebecca wasn't the type to just dismiss things.

But it seemed the right thing to do, here, now didn't it?

… That was, most likely, why she never expected it.

But then again, even if she had not dismissed it, I strongly doubt she would have been able to guess.

No one would have been able to guess.

And no one would have been able to stop them…