Sidney shuffled wearily into the kitchen, greeted by the delicious smell of breakfast from Mama Riley in a robe frying eggs and bacon at the stove.

But this morning, she had no appetite.

Tatum was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed to kill as usual in low cut white sports jersey and tight red leather pants, munching on a piece of toast.

Dewey stood at the back door, talking on a wall telephone, dressed in uniform.

She rubbed away the bags under her eyes, trying to make it seem like she got at least some sleep.

But, she was sure they knew. All she could do last night was hear the killer's voice over and over in her head like a broken record, and see that horrible ghost mask burned into her memory.

A small portable television sat on a table across from the kitchen table; the news was on.

"…Sidney Prescott was viciously attacked last night, one year after the brutal murder of her mother Maureen. Police are still investigating whether or not this attack is related to the death of her mother or the deaths of two Woodsboro high school students the night before…"

Sidney desperately attempted to block out the sound of the news, as she walked over to the kitchen table and sat down beside Tatum.

Tatum's eyes grew wide with worry.

"God, Sid, you alright? You tossed and turned all night last night,"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sidney lied, trying to act at least a little bit together.

"…Last year, Sidney accused Cotton Weary of raping and murdering her mother, who now sits on death row…"

On the TV, they showed Cotton in an orange jumpsuit being put into the back of a police car.

He looked the same as one year ago, when Sidney had pointed to him in a courtroom and said he was the man who killed her mother.

Just a normal, average-looking guy, at least, before prison. Now he looked haggard and worn, and his facial hair was scruffy and unkempt.

Sidney closed her eyes, trying to block out his face from her mind.

Tatum put a consoling hand on Sidney's shoulder.

"You know, I really don't think you girls should go to school today," Mrs. Riley chimed in from the stove.

"Your objection is duly noted," Tatum quipped.

"No, it's okay, Mama Riley. I'd feel safer around a lot of people," Sidney said.

Dewey hung up the phone, and hearing what the TV was saying, he turned it off with the remote.

Dewey sat down at the table across from the two girls as Mrs. Riley put a plate of food in front of him.

"Sidney, you don't want anything?" Mrs. Riley asked.

"No, thanks," Sidney said.

Something about almost being killed had a crazy effect on your appetite.

Dewey hesitated, and then spoke up, almost as if he was reluctant to say what he wanted to say.

"Billy didn't make those phone calls. His records were checked and they're clean," Dewey said, watching Sidney as her jaw stiffened. "They released him this morning,"

Sidney sat back in her chair, and put her head in her hand, letting out a sigh.

"They're checking every cellular account in the county and cross-referencing every call made to you or to Casey Becker," Dewey continued. "It's going to take some time, but we'll find him,"

How much time did she have? Sidney thought to herself. How long before the killer made his next move?

He was out there…watching her…Waiting for her to slip up…waiting for her to be alone so he could strike…she didn't have time.

Time was running out.


The campus of Woodsboro High was still as much of a circus as it was the day before.

Reporters, hungry for teenage insight, hammered students with questions, shoving microphones and camera in their face. The grassy lawn was dotted with news crews and vans, reporters, and throngs of bystanders trying to hear the latest breaking information.

It was even crazier, now that the killer had supposedly struck again.

Dewey's tan station wagon screeched to a halt outside the front of the school, and Dewey hopped out, opened the back door, and let Tatum and Sidney out onto the sidewalk.

"It's okay, Sidney. Its school, you'll be safe here. And I'll be on campus all morning…" Dewey continued, when as if on cue, a red-haired female reporter lunged at Sidney from the crowd, jamming a microphone in her face.

"Sidney, how does it feel to almost be brutally butchered?!" the reporter yelled.

Sidney shrunk back against the car, feeling a lump form in her throat.

"Hey, hey, leave her alone," Dewey said, holding out his arms and keeping the reporter back, as Tatum grabbed Sidney by the arm and pulled her down the sidewalk away from her.

"We have a right to know!" the reporter yelled, but Sidney didn't hear. She was blocking out all sounds; she just wanted to get inside the school and get through this day.

She didn't want to be at school. She wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

But, she knew she was unsafe at home by herself.

At least at school, she was with people. Safety in numbers, right?

Sidney and Tatum were booking it headlong through the crowd, ignoring any reporters that tried to talk to them.

It was times like these she was grateful for Tatum, who had no problem with bulldozing through large crowds screaming "Get out of my way!"

Just then, Sidney glanced towards the street where a tan news van was parked under a tree.

She came to an abrupt halt, yanking Tatum back.

"What?" Tatum asked, seeing the focused stare on Sid's face.

The stare turned ice cold as Sidney noticed Gale Weathers sitting in the passenger seat, her long legs hanging over the side, applying makeup to the purplish-black welt Sidney gave her on her left cheek.

"Oh, come on, Sid, don't get into it with her again," Tatum protested.

"Just a sec," Sidney said, motioning to Tatum to wait for her there.

Sidney began to walk across campus towards Gale, leaving Tatum to wonder if she was going to have to pull her out of a catfight.

But, Sidney didn't want to fight. She wanted to ask Gale why. Why print all those lies about her and her mother? Why ruin her life? She had to know.

She didn't want to fight or argue. She just had a few words to say to Gale, so she could finally get it off of her chest.

That was it.

She hoped her temper wouldn't get the best of her. She didn't need an assault charge tacked on to her being hunted by a psychopath.

Gale caught sight of Sidney strolling purposefully towards her, and she held up her finger, catching Sidney with a hateful glare.

"Stop right there," Gale warned, reaching in her purse for pepper spray.

Sidney held up her hands in surrender.

"I don't want to fight; I just want to talk,"

Gale's eyes lit up.

"Kenny! Camera! Now!" she yelled into the back of the newsvan and hopped out of the passenger seat onto the sidewalk, holding out her microphone.

Finally, her chance for an interview.

"Off the record, no cameras," Sidney said, with a look.

"Forget it," Gale said, scoffing.

"Please? You owe me," Sidney pleaded.

"I owe you shit" Gale retorted scornfully.

"You owe my mother," Sidney said.

Gale's demeanor changed. Sidney thought she might have detected a hint of sympathy. In Gale Weathers? Nah, probably not.

Gale turned to Kenny and motioned for him to stop recording.

"Look, Sidney, your mother's murder was last year's hottest court case. Somebody was going to write a book about it," Gale said.

"Yeah, and it had to be you with all your lies and bullshit theories," Sidney said.

"What is your problem? You got what you wanted, Cotton Weary is in jail; they're going to gas him. A book isn't going to change that,"

Sidney paused, her jaw tightening.

"Do you still think he's innocent?" Sidney asked.

"Your testimony put him away, it doesn't really matter what I think,"

"During the trial, you did all those stories about me and called me a liar,"

"I think you falsely identified him, yes,"

"Have you talked to Cotton?"

"Many times,"

"Has his story changed?"

"Not one word. He admits to having sex with your mother but that's all" Gale said.

Sidney shook her head in disgust.

"He's lying; she never would have touched him. He raped her…" Sidney continued, her voice growing louder and more distressed.

Students and reporters were starting to look over at her, and Sidney hushed her voice.

"He butchered her; her blood was all over his coat,"

Sidney was slowly becoming undone, tears welling up in her eyes. Gale maintained every bit of her graceful composure.

"He was drunk that night. He left his coat at your mother's house after they had sex,"

Sidney looked Gale dead in the eyes.

"I saw him leave wearing it,"

"No, you saw someone leave wearing it. The same person who actually killed your mother and placed it in Cotton's car, framing him," Gale said matter-of-factly.

Sidney had heard it for the millionth time; the man in the white coat wasn't Cotton.

She knew what she saw. Cotton was the man in that white coat that she saw leaving the house covered in blood. She would have taken it to her grave.

Was he? The killer's voice repeated again in her head. "…Looks like you fingered the wrong guy…again"

Sidney's mind was racing. She knew what she saw but at the same time, she knew that someone else was out there after her…someone almost murdered her last night…and someone was really trying to scare her. The same someone who knows an awful lot about her and her mother's murder.

Could it be possible that Sidney sent an innocent man to prison? The possibility was there, and had been there since the trial, way in the back of Sidney's mind, and she was just now beginning to realize the horrible truth.

But for whatever reason, she wasn't about to give Gale the satisfaction.

"No…Cotton murdered my mother," Sidney said shakily.

Gale heard the doubt in her voice, and lit up with realization.

She stared into Sidney's soul.

"You're not so sure anymore are you? The killer is still out there, and these murders are related. You're just too scared to admit it, aren't you?"

Sidney froze with disbelief.

She was right…you're right…the killer is still out there and he's after me…

She wanted to scream and lunge at Gale, wanted to grab her by the neck and squeeze as hard as she could. Goddamn her for being right.

Fuck her.

Sidney slowly backed away, shaking her head in disbelief.

"No…it was Cotton. Sorry I mangled your face," Sidney said, turned on her heels, and disappeared into the crowd.


Sidney slammed her locker shut, leaned against it, and let out a huge sigh.

She ignored the sound of people walking behind her, hurrying to class, laughing, cutting up, and closed her eyes, focusing on her thoughts.

A lump formed in her throat, and she felt tears welling up, and she turned to face the locker as she began to cry.

It was the first time she had actually cried since the murder.

It felt so weak…so helpless…but a huge relief at the same time.

The truth was that Gale was right. Sidney was too scared to admit it.

Cotton didn't murder her mother. It was someone else. Someone else who was there at her house. Someone else who raped, tortured, and stabbed her mother so many times that it left her body almost unrecognizable. Someone who gutted her like a pig and left her organs lying on the floor around her.

Someone else who murdered Casey Becker and Steven Orth and almost killed her.

They were out there…waiting to make their next move…

Fuck, why her? Why did she have to live in a real life horror movie? She could be like a normal teenager and go out on dates and have her first kiss and study for tests and get ready for college. But fuck that, because she was now having to face terrifying adult situations at such a young age and it was robbing her of everything great about adolescence.

It wasn't fucking fair.

It just wasn't fair.

She wanted to scream.

FUCK YOU WHOEVER IS DOING THIS…JUST FUCKING SHOW YOURSELF…she wanted to run outside and scream and cry and hit the ground.

JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY…

Why were they playing this game? Why couldn't they just jump out and get it over with?

Ok, get it together, Sidney. Get it together. You're better than this. You're stronger than this. This is life. Life has no double jeopardy.

One shitty thing can happen right after the next and you have to deal with it.

Get yourself together, Sidney thought. Pull yourself together, damnit.

Sidney wiped the tears from her eyes, and turned to face Tatum, coming towards her with a green lollipop in her mouth, who could immediately tell something was up.

"Hey…hey...are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. This was a mistake, Tatum. I shouldn't be here today,"

Tatum hugged Sidney tightly.

"I can go find Dewey and we can get the hell out of her if you want…" Tatum said.

Sidney smiled.

"No, it's fine. I'm already here. I'll tough it out,"

Tatum smiled and gave her a playful punch in the arm.

"You're at school, you're safe here"

"Yeah, but if it's not Billy, it could be anyone. They could be in school right now,"

"Serial killers are smart. They minimize their risks. They plan and precalculate everything. Showing up here would be a stupid move," Tatum explained.

Tatum sometimes surprised Sidney with her intellect at times.

"He promised me that he'd be back,"

"I wouldn't put too much stock in a psycho's promise," Tatum said, licking her lollipop.

Sidney gave her a conceding look.

Stu suddenly dashed around the corner, and tackled Tatum into the lockers with a guffaw of laughter.

Tatum giggled as he nibbled on her neck playfully.

"Stu, knock it off," she said, laughing and swatting at him.

Stu draped his arm around her and noticed Sidney standing there, still wiping tears from her eyes.

"Hey, Sid. Billy's around somewhere,"

Sidney's face drained of color.

"Oh, great. Just what I need. I'll bet he's pissed,"

"Yeah, after you branded him the Candyman, his heart is broken,"

Tatum punched him as hard as she could, and gave him a stern look of disappointment.

"You open your mouth and stupidity pours out," Tatum quipped, hitting him in the forehead with her lollipop.

"Easy, it's a joke," Stu protested.

Sidney almost wanted to defend him. He was right. Anyone would be pissed about being put in jail.

Billy had a girlfriend who constantly refused to have sex with him because of mommy issues, and put him in jail for attempted murder. Yep, she was a keeper.

` Sidney turned to look down the hallway for Billy.

But she didn't see Billy.

She saw the killer coming down the hallway towards her.

Clad in the same costume…black cloak…and the terrifying ghost mask.

He was holding a knife in his hand.


"Jesus Christ," Gale muttered to herself in delight.

Holy shit, she thought. An innocent man on death row, put away by the daughter of a murder victim, and now the killer was back one year later going after the daughter and her friends.

It was brilliant.

This would make headlines all across the nation.

And whose name would they see? Whose face would be plastered all over the screen?

Gale Fucking Weathers, that's who.

God, it was like something straight out of a big city like New York or LA. Like something out of some Hitchcock movie.

All those years of shitty ratings and tiny, obscure news stations and sitting on the sidelines while her colleagues were getting huge breaks and huge network salaries were finally paying off.

A year from now, her book would be published, Cotton Weary would be released from prison, the real killer would be behind bars, that is, if the hick police in this backwater town can find him, and Gale would be in the Caribbean, feasting on prawn shrimp, cocktails, and the rest of her royalties.

Imagine what she could acquiesce from Cotton Weary? He would be forever grateful. Imagine how devoted he would be? She could have him wrapped around her little finger.

This was too perfect.

Of course, it all was justice being served. Cotton Weary was convicted all because of Sidney's heartbreaking testimony of how she found her mother's body and saw Cotton there at the scene.

There was absolutely no DNA evidence, if there was any; it wasn't presented at the trial.

The only evidence was the bloody coat and Sidney's testimony.

If the jury hadn't been prone to feel sympathy for a traumatized 16-year old, Cotton never would have been convicted.

It was a tragedy that happened too often in criminal cases.

How dare she make a living off of the tragedies of others, you ask? The same way anyone else lived out their days.

It's only human nature to live for yourself and take what's yours, and if the fame for telling a story involving the tragedies of others was hers to own, so be it.

She didn't lose sleep because of it, and she shouldn't have to.

"Kenny, can you fucking believe it?" she asked, laughing with delight.

Kenny sat in the driver's seat, now gorging himself on a Debbie cake.

"An innocent man about to be executed, a killer still on the loose, Kenny…"

She reached out and grabbed his forearm, squeezing it tight.

"…tell me I'm dreaming…"

Gale bounced in her seat ecstatically.

She whipped out her pocket mirror, and flashed a sexy grin.

` "You want to go live?" Kenny asked, gesturing to the camera in the back.

"No, no…" Gale said, her thoughts trailing off, her mind racing with possibilities. "No, we don't have anything concrete,"

"You can't just sit on this. This is huge!" Kenny exclaimed, licking his fingers.

"No…If I'm going to blow this up, I need hard proof,"

"When has that ever stopped you? It's easier when we make stuff up," Kenny said.

"Yeah, but this time, a man's life depends on it. I owe Cotton that much. Hell, even I thought he was guilty,"

Despite popular belief, Gale did actually have a heart. Maybe it was a bit cold and black, but it was there. And it craved the truth, no matter what it took to get there.

Cotton was an innocent man, and she was going to set out to prove it, no matter the cost.

She was willing to die to get her story.


Sidney's entire body went numb as she saw the ghost mask rapidly approaching…the knife raised in his right hand…a huge knot twisted in her gut, so powerful it almost knocked her to the floor…

And the next moment was a blur. As the killer was about a foot from where she stood, she lashed out her right foot, connecting with the killer's groin.

The man in the mask crumpled to the floor with a whimper of a hurt little boy.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Sidney screamed at him, reached down and yanked off his mask to see the pained face of a ginger-haired preteen.

"It was just a joke!" he cried, followed by a moan of agony as he clutched his manhood.

Sidney's jaw dropped, letting the mask fall to the floor.

She also saw the "knife" on the floor beside him. It was rubber.

She saw the crowd of students gathering around, staring down at the boy in shock and then up at Sidney.

"Sidney!" Tatum cried out.

Everything was spinning and moving in slow motion at the same time. She felt the lump in her throat again and more tears were flooding her eyes.

She took off down the hallway, Tatum calling her name behind her.

She didn't know how many corners she turned before she realized she was all alone. She leaned against the lockers and cried again, deep heaving sobs wracking her body.

She didn't know how much longer she could hold on. Maybe Tatum was right. Maybe it was time to go find Dewey and get the hell out of here.

Just as she stopped crying, she turned around right into the arms of someone and she lurched backwards in shock.

She heard a familiar voice protesting in surrender.

"Hey, hey, it's just me! It's just me!" The voice said.

Sidney knew the voice all too well.

She was staring right up into the eyes of Billy. His face was dirty, there were bags under his eyes, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

Sidney pressed herself back against the lockers, taking a defensive position.

"Billy…what are you doing here?"

"You still think it's me, don't you?" Billy asked, his eyes staring into her soul.

Sidney forced herself to relax, and shook her head, keeping an eye out for anyone else in the hallway that could help.

They were all alone.

"Uh…no…no I don't," Sidney stammered nervously, feeling her heart racing a mile a minute. "But…someone did try to kill me last night, Billy,"

"I know…the cops said I scared him away," Billy said reassuredly. "Sidney, it wasn't me,"

Sidney wanted to believe him, but the knot in her stomach was still telling her otherwise.

Then she remembered the phone call last night at Tatum's house. It couldn't have been him.

She felt her body relax, her muscles loosen, and her breathing return to normal.

"Yeah…um…" Sidney stammered, regaining her composure. "I know…the killer called me last night at Tatum's house,"

"See…it couldn't have been me. I was in jail, remember," Billy said.

He held up his hand, showing the ink on his fingertips.

Sidney took a deep breath and stepped closer to him.

"I'm sorry…please understand,"

"Sorry for what? That I have a girlfriend who would rather accuse me of being a psychopathic killer than touch me?"

That felt like a kick in the stomach.

"Now you know that's not true," she said, reaching out to touch him, and Billy backed away.

"Then, what is it?"

"Maybe it's because I was attacked and nearly filleted last night," Sidney said defensively.

"Not that, I'm talking about us…you haven't been the same since your mom died,"

Sidney fought back more tears, not believing what she was hearing.

"Is your brain leaking? I can't believe you're bringing this up when I was almost…" Sidney started to say.

Billy interrupted.

"It's been a year,"

"Tomorrow…it will be one year tomorrow," Sidney corrected him, trying to contain herself.

"I think it's time you let go of that, Sidney. When my mom left my dad, I accepted it and moved on. She's not coming back," Billy said.

Sidney felt another jab to her gut.

Her eyes searched him rapidly for something to say as she struggled to maintain herself and not go insane.

"Your parents split up. This isn't the same thing, your mom is in another town she's not lying in a coffin somewhere," Sidney said sharply.

"Ok, ok…Sorry. It was a bad analogy. But…" Billy continued, his eyes beginning to well up with tears also. "I want my girlfriend back,"

Sidney took one last long look at him, in utter disbelief.

"I'm sorry that my traumatized life is an inconvenience to you and your perfect existence," Sidney said, feeling her body going weak and more tears surfacing.

She spun around before he could see her lose control of her body, and she sprinted off down the hallway, ignoring Billy's yelling behind her, blocking out every sound, not even realizing she was now skipping class.

She barreled down another short hallway, and found the girls restroom, slipping inside and heading for the sink.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she felt absolutely helpless.

Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and tears were falling down her face.

She remembered seeing the exact same face in the mirror after her mother was killed.

How dare him? How dare he compare his mother skipping town and leaving his father, to her mother being brutally raped, tortured and murdered?

Yeah, she remembered when his mother left. It was about a year before her mother's murder.

His father had been cheating on her, so she packed up her things and left him without a goodbye.

Sure, it's a horrible thing. Sure, he was torn up about it. Sure, Billy did eventually get over it. Well, fuck her for having a little more trouble coping with her mother being murdered.

She reached for the faucet, when a voice caught her attention. Two voices. Two female voices.

She heard her name.

"Why would Sidney make it all up that she was attacked?" one girl said.

"For attention, duh," the other girl said.

Sidney then heard the bathroom door opening, and the two girls voices grew louder. She quickly grabbed her purse off of the sink and ducked into the stall farthest from the door and locked it, listening intently.

"The girl has some serious issues," the second girl continued.

The two girls entered the bathroom, approaching two sinks and looking at themselves in the mirror. One was tall and slender, with a short black haircut, and the other was blond and shorter, wearing a cheerleader uniform.

The blond cheerleader gasped, as if she was having a revelation.

"What if she did it? What if Sidney killed Casey and Steve?"

The dark haired girl scoffed and laughed.

"Why would she do that?" she asked, applying more lipstick over her already heavily-coated lips.

"Maybe she had the hots for Steve and killed them both in a jealous rage," the blond girl said, smiling and primping in the mirror.

"What would Sidney want with Steve? She has her own bubble butt boyfriend Billy," the dark-haired girl said.

"Maybe she's a slut just like her mother," the blond girl said nastily.

Hearing that felt like a knife in the stomach.

Sidney felt suddenly weak and sunk back into the stall, sitting down on the toilet, feeling more tears beginning to fall. She cupped her hand to her mouth, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

The blond girl kept going.

"It was a common fact. Her mother was a tramp,"

Sidney was silently bawling, feeling like her world was crashing down around her.

"Give her some slack, she watched her mom get butchered," the dark haired girl said.

"Yeah, and it fucked her up royally. Think about it," the blond girl continued dramatically. "Her mother's death leaves her disturbed and hostile in a cruel and inhumane world. She's delusional-'Where's God', et cetera. She's completely suicidal but one day she snaps, and realizes homicide is a much healthier therapeutic expression,"

Sidney fought to contain herself, her heart pounding, her jaw quivering.

The dark-haired girl frowns.

"Where do you get this shit?"

The cheerleader smiled.

"Ricki Lake,"

The two girls giggled evilly in unison and left the bathroom, leaving Sidney to sit alone in silence, processing what they had said.

This was a mistake. She shouldn't be here.

She was going to find Dewey and get the fuck out of here.

She didn't care about going to class or anything else except to go home.

Sidney slipped out of the stall and made her way to the sink again, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She didn't even know anything about those two girls.

Yet they seemed to know everything about her.

Except what Gale and her tabloids were feeding them.

"Pathetic…" Sidney muttered under her breath, taking a deep breath and feeling her body start to relax.

She listened to the silence in the bathroom…hearing the pipes groaning and water dripping in the sink.

And then, came another sound.

A strange whispering sound.

Sidney furrowed her brow in confusion, looking around for the source of the sound.

She heard it again, and this time it sounded like a voice. A disembodied, whispering voice saying something…a name….her name. It was saying Sidney…

Sidney….Sidney….it's me Sidney…

Every muscle in Sidney's body tightened and her heart began to pound. She spun around to face the stalls.

She scrambled down on her knees, scanning underneath every stall, and didn't see anyone.

She stood upright and listened again.

The voice continued.

"Sidney….Sidney….." it rasped.

"Who's there?" Sidney asked.

She looked underneath the stalls a second time and saw something that sent a chill down her spine.

Now there were two black boots in the stall closest to the door.

Fuck no, Sidney thought.

It was him.

"It's me, Sidney," the voice said louder, and the stall door banged open, and out came the killer, fully clothed in the ghost mask and cloak, lunging for her.

Sidney had barely any time to react.

She dove to the side, slamming into the stalls as the killer went crashing into the sink, grabbing at nothing.

He went for her again, and she leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding his grasp.

Sidney bolted for the door but slipped on the wet floor, catching the sink to keep her from falling.

She saw the killer gliding across the room towards her in the mirror, his arms outstretched, growling with anger…

She flew for the door, grabbing the handle, flinging it open just as the killer grabbed the sleeve of her jacket and tore it off of her body.

She went careening out of the bathroom and down a nearby flight of stairs not even looking behind her to see if he was following.

She sailed around a corner colliding with a man who grabbed her tightly by the shoulders.

Sidney screamed hysterically, squirming in her attacker's grasp as the man struggled to control her.

"He's going to kill me!" Sidney screamed, ripping herself out of the man's grasp and tearing off down the hallway, leaving Principal Himbry stunned.

"Sidney, wait!" Himbry called after her, but it was too late. Sidney was gone.