Author's Note: Lol yes, it's another chapter with none of the previous mysteries resolved! Nice huh? Just stay patient kids, all good things come to those who wait.

"Miss Somersten? " Marcus's voice was there, and he was asking me something. I had turned around, put my hands over my eyes like a child who does not wish to see something awful. It felt like I had stared into the lens of a camera snapping a photo, the flash burning away everything into a white haze. But there was something else. A memory. Of something that happened long ago. Something deeply painful.

I knew now, for a certain fact, that I had been here before.

"Are you alright?" he asked, though making no approach to touch or come near me. My breath hitched violently a couple of times – then whatever had come over me was gone. I lowered my hands and looked down at the marble floor, breathing deeply. I did not feel like myself anymore.

"I think I feel...I think it would be best if I went home for the night."

"Very well. The car will take you back to your apartment shortly."

As the car drove me back, I felt too restless to stay still.

It was impossible, and yet everything in me, for some time now had been trying to tell me that somehow – this was not my first visit to italy. And I had a feeling that something bad had happened here. Something very, very bad.

This was more than just my issues about home, about my father and what awaited me there if I returned. This was about something older, something bigger.

I leaned my head against the glass of the car window and shut my eyes tightly. I did not want that to be true.

But deep down, I knew it was.

As soon as the car pulled up outside my apartment complex, I hurried upstairs and shut the door behind me and locked it. But it did not make me feel safe. I paced around the living room, trying to calm down. Yet everytime my body tried to relax, my heart started up again, beating furiously, like it was trying to hammer its way out of my chest.

So I did what I always did whenever I was too scared to think, to sit around in one place. The only thing right then that could have cleared my head. I put on a light tank top and a pair of sweatpants and head outside for a run.

The trees looked like nothing when I passed them by. Just a dark blur of green and blues, the hot wind getting into my lungs, making my throat dry. My legs were burning, but I couldn't stop moving. Didn't want to.

I could see nothing and hear nothing, figures of people passing becoming fewer and fewer. Something brushed against my arm, scratching it – a bransch. My hair had come loose over my shoulders, copper red flashing before my eyes whenever I turned my head.

But I kept looking at the sky. I couldn't look away from it. It was red tonight, the sun just fallen in the horizon, leaving a blood-red trail in its wake. It's a time when people disappear of their own choosing.

Under the red sky, I belong. This is not the twilight hour, but a time of its own that belongs to me.

It's not until I run past the sign saying that I've reached the next town over that I realize that it's time to head back. I laugh at myself, a sound of relief. I have found myself again. I feel calm again, as much as I can ever feel anyway. I feel like I can do anything, like I'm the only person in the world still alive.

And why would the world spare me? I can't help but think as I begin jogging back home. But I haven't forgotten about what I learned tonight. That somehow – the necklace, the incident at the pool, the music box I found in that forgotten room – it is all connected to me. The things I have seen , what I thought was just another facet, another sideeffect of being abnormal, may just be something that really happened.

But that means that someone here has died. I shudder as I remember the sight at the bottom of the pool. All those bodies, that little girl.I realize that i have to talk to someone about this once and for all. The Police perhaps? But what would they say to a girl who has seen things that are not really there? But I have to try. I must.

All I have for proof is the feeling at the bottom of my stomach, an instinct.

But some unconcious part of me is apparently not through for the night, because the next thing I now, I'm headed towards the glade near the quarry. I blink as I realize where I am, my mind occupied with other things. I don't know what time it is exactly, but I must have been out for some time. Not even the birds are chirping, only the odd sound of critters moving in the dark can be sky is dark now, a deep maroon shade that obscures and hides everyhting around me. There is no moon in the sky to light my way, only the faint light of the street lamps in the far distance.

But I'm not frightened – even though I probably should be. I feel very light here, in the dark. Like nothing can hurt me.

So when I see a pair of red, gleaming eyes in the dark – staring back at me without blinking, I'm drawn towards them. Like a particularly beautiful flower that only blooms in the night, the color stand out. Even though it's so dark, I can tell who they belong to. I can tell by the way he moves, the curious tilt of his head when I approach him so easily. I don't ask why he's here, out in the forest dressed like he just came from work. I don't ask him when he got back from his trip, or why he didn't call.

Even though there are words that need to be said, neither of us make a sound. But it's all there anyway, in the way I start to blush but not looking away from him at all – the way his whole body follows and turns in my direction. Like a predator zoning in on its prey.

His lips slightly parted, he stares at me with so much reverence, so much hunger – like a junkie. A bit unhealthy, a little mad, I realize. But I can't help what I feel. This hunger of his has become mine as well. It's in the trees as well as in my lungs, the ragged sighs that fall from my lips.

Before I lean in to kiss him, his lips tremble.

The way it happens may not be thought of as an ideal first time.

But neither of us seems to mind that.