A/N: I know I haven't updated this story in AGES, but here's a new chapter.

Chapter 4: Unicorns

The weird unicorns visited me again in my dreams last night.

They talked to me.

They told me to do things. Bad things with a gun and a knife.

I told my mom. She said I have an overactive imagination.

"Oh Ruthie, you 12-year-olds and your little games. Of course, you know, your little unicorn friends are not really real," Mom tells me.

"But, they are," I insist. "They are real. Mom, they talk to me when I'm sleeping. They're not my friends. They tell me to kill."

My mom hugs me, "Oh Ruthie, you're sooooooooooo silly!"

She doesn't believe me. No one ever believes me when I tell about the unicorns.

Oh Ruthie, they say, don't be silly. Unicorns are not real.

But they are real. They haunt me in my sleep.

I see them.

I hear them.

They are there.

In fact, the unicorns are talking to me right now. They're dancing around in my head.

Kill, you must kill, they chant.

No, I won't give in. I'm stronger than that.

And then, the unicorns leave my head an empty blank hole.