"Left? Did she say where she was going?"

"No, she just..." I shrugged. It was about noon, I was off. I had gotten up early that morning to make breakfast, and I checked in on Aurora.

She was gone.

And now her...weird-ass bible-thumping super christian cousin was on our doorstep, wondering why she had stood him up for lunch. If he was -my- cousin, I would have stood him up too.

"She's been acting really weird, though." It was true. Aurora specializes in weirdness, but the past few months were just...down-right strange.

"Weird?" He adjusted his backpack, the cross around his neck glimmering at me. Man. Jesus-boy. "How weird?"

"She's doing this project for some class of hers, or something, and she's been getting into it. I mean, really getting into it. She's been going out of town alot, and bringing home books and newspapers, and getting all these phonecalls and shit. And last night was the weirdest..."

"What happened?"

"She brought home this...video tape. And I keep thinking to myself that that fucking school is going to burn her out something bad. And she was quiet -all- night. I--"

"Video tape..?"

Suddenly, everything about him went...dark. The "I Love Jesus" vibe, just, like, died all of a sudden. I swear, he went 2 shades paler, and his legs were shaking.

"...Yeah...a video tape."

"...what's this...project been about?"

"Some family upstate that used to raise horses or something. Some...Morgan. Anna Morgan, and some kid."

"...When did she watch it."

" I dunno--"

"WHEN!"

"I-I--Fuck, I don't know! Last night, probably!"

"...I gotta go. If she comes home, tell her to call me, okay?"

"..Yeah, sure..okay."

And he left. Without a goodbye.

Shit...never piss off a Jesus freak.

--------------------------------------------

Why did it always have to get so fucking cold in this city. It's cold, and it rains. God, I hated it here...Only reason why I stayed was for Katelyn. She loved it here. And it was far, far away from my parents' dreary household. It was refreshing when it wasn't pouring freezing rain.

And right now, I don't know why I was bitching about the rain.

It's the last thing I should have been thinking of.

I had been wandering the city park for over an hour now, wrapped tightly in my black raincoat, my head soaked, feet soaked, and slowly forming a cold...It was the place I'd go to think. Walk aimlessly around in circles, watching the people come to linger here...of course, there weren't any people today.

I was the only one stupid enough to be there on a raining fucking day like this.

My hands were snug inside my coat pockets. I could feel the corner of Samara's picture. I tried to think about her. I really did. But I felt like if I thought about her too much, I'd burn out or something. I had been thinking about her all morning, and now it was almost 1pm. I had to be going crazy. Dead girls calling me at night. Cursed video tapes. I needed a life. A new one.

I kept telling myself stuff like that.

I was trying to convince myself that this wasn't really happening...I was just...dreaming...imagining things...I had an overactive imagination. That's all.

...but I could still feel her little hand in mine...those dark eyes staring up at me...

I stopped out by the pond. The rain had let up a little...I sat by a tree...

No matter how I tried to tell myself she wasn't real. She was. And she wanted me to believe.

"What are you trying to tell me, Samara...?" I asked. I don't know why. It's not like she could hear me.

The night before, I...saw her world. Through her eyes...Her Mother's house. Her Barn. The Horses. Richard.

She touched a music box on her dusty crate. The greyness of age dissapeared, and it was white and pink, and spun around easily, playing that little tune she knew so well. I was sitting in a chair by her television. She brought me the music box.

I watched it spin on my lap...she smiled at me.

Then she was gone in a flash.

No, not gone, she was by the wall. She was dirty, muddy, and rotted, scratching away the wallpaper to reveal...a tree. A tree, burned into the wood.

Suddenly, the wall was clear. And Samara stood there, young and white-skinned, touching the wall, and beneath her touch, the wood blackened and burned...

She had made it.

With her hands...with those little hands...

I looked across the pond and into the trees on the other side. I didn't understand. We spent...my night in that barn, in her room. She showed me everything...every piece of her childhood, my head was spinning from it all...

She was just a little girl.

She was just a little girl when she died...she was still a little girl...she was trapped like that, forever. She wanted to reach out, be heard, show the world that...not everything is as it seems...show us...suffering.

I wanted to cry.

I cried when I woke up this morning. I couldn't help it.

I was terrified of seeing her again.

I wanted to see her to know more and give her comfort.

I wonder if this was how Rachel felt...

I wiped the water from my face. It was almost 2 now. Maybe I should head home...or something...

Suddenly, I felt something.

...a tiny hand...fitting into my own.

I closed my eyes.

There was no way...-no-...-way-...

But I felt it.

There she was.

...and...

...I was afraid...

Don't be afraid.

I wanted to run

Don't leave me.

...I stayed...

Don't leave.

I stayed.

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R&R My lovelies.