7.

scaryspice4352: I will never write again.
I decided to confide in Kyle what I was feeling with. Over IM's, of course. That computer geek.

freakngeek743: you can't do this to yourself. you didn't cause this.
scaryspice4352: It was exactly the same thing that I typed.
freakngeek743: it wasn't you. twisted, yes. but coincidences happen.
scaryspice4352: Not ones involving death.
freakngeek743: you know, maybe you should finish the story. it could give some kind of ending, and cure you from all your madness.
scaryspice4352: That would never happen.
freakngeek743: what? you writing a end to the story?
scaryspice4352: No, my madness being cured.
freakngeek743: haha, very funny. but listen, i gotta go. take care of yourself.
scaryspice4352: Right. Later.

But they were right. I couldn't stop writing. I had tried. My arguing thoughts had given birth, and all the baby thought knew how to say was "Write, write, write." The background music for my mind. Write, write, write, write.

The noise of the computer turning on brought back haunting memories.

This is the cure. Finish the story.

No happy endings.

Yes.

No, this story will be finished how it was ment to be, or it would never be absolutly complete.

Thought #2 was right. Carmeen's death was a crazy coincidence. Someone must have read the story, and decided to freak us out. I could kill that person right now. If only I knew who it was, maybe I could.

The blue glare from the monitor made my black funeral clothes glow in the dark. Not that it was unusual to see me wearing black anymore. The death, the pressure from peers and press, had made me depressed. It had become a wardrobe must. A wardrobe mask.

The mouse cursor hovered over the word document "Horror". If only I knew what that would mean now.

Click, click, click.

It was open.

The vowels and consinents glared accusingly at me on the screen as if to say, 'why were you gone for so long'?

Then an amazing feeling washed over me, it was like a drug. I was listening to my thoughts, not arguing with them. They had complete control over my body, my arms, my hands, my fingertips. Typing words across the screen as my eyes watched, like watching my distant body in a dream. This story couldn't be happy. This sotry was going to end as planned. Tragic. Thrilling. And very, very scary. Oh yes, scary was a must.

And everyone, everyone would get to read it.