A/N:

So I know that it has been a long while and that this is a short chapter, but I've just been really really really really busy with final assessment. I should have more time in the upcoming weeks to write for you guys!

As always, thank you for the latest favourites and follows - they really do mean a lot to me.

Sonic Key

Yes, Nora is here! I love her so much
Keep up the good work, I love the story so far!

Thanks for the review and I'm glad that you're enjoying the story! Also yes Nora is here - and she may be in a few more chapters *wiggles eyebrows*

ENJOY!

I shut the screen of the laptop, shoving it away from me across the floor as I stretched my arms over my head. It was two in the morning and I'd just finished my English assignment. Considering that it was due second period that day, I figured that I hadn't done too badly, my procrastination having gotten the better of me on this particular assignment.

Forcing myself to stand, I yawned, wiping a hand over my eyes as I moved towards my window. I planned on sleeping in as much as I physically capable of before school the next morning, which meant I had to shut my currently open curtains, the morning sun having a bad habit of waking me up too early. As I reached the window, my gaze fell onto my still open sketchbook.

It was still sitting where it was the last time I'd used it. Staring back at me was the face of a woman that I did not know – her sad eyes seeming to plead with me for…something.

"What do you want?" I found myself muttering to her, a frown creasing my face as I stared back at the drawing.

With a sigh, I forced myself to turn away from my sketchbook and back to the window, trying to focus on one task at a time so that I could at least get a couple hours of sleep tonight. I looked out of my window at the night sky as I reached for my curtains, pulling both sides closed as I went to step back and away from the window. Before I'd shut them fully however, a movement caught my eye. Thinking that it was Tate, I looked into his window, across from mine, faltering as I saw only darkness. Stepping forward again, I glanced around, looking at the ground below me, and to the street to my left, thinking maybe a bird or a bat had flown past the window. But I saw nothing.

Shaking my head and dismissing the horror-moviesque thoughts, I went to step away from the window once again, but the same movement had my eyes snapping back up, straight to Tate's window. I was sure that it had come from there. Maybe Tate was up and had walked by his window. Yes, that had to be it, there was no other explanation. I forced myself to believe those words as I stood there staring into the room once again. I forced myself to wait – sure that I would see something if I just gave it a little time.

A minute passed. Two minutes. Three.

Nothing.

An actual growl left me as I turned away in frustration, drawing the curtains closed with one harsh pull, I stomped to my bed. Curling up underneath the covers, I clutched a pillow to me, trying to force all thoughts about what I had – or more accurately, hadn't – seen from my mind.

That night, the face of the fair-haired woman haunted my dreams, cutting the already short amount of hours I had to sleep in half. Although she didn't say anything, she kept opening her mouth as she stared at me with those sad eyes, a silent scream seeming to echo in my ears before I'd wake up in a cold sweat, my heart racing.

"You look how I feel." Tate greeted grumpily in the morning, his hair looking even more dishevelled than usual.

"Well I got all of three hours' sleep last night, so what's your excuse?" I shot back, nursing my coffee as I started walking down the street. My head was beginning to hurt at the brightness of the already shining sun, and I kept squinting through the blurriness of my eyes. Today was not going to be a good day.

"Had to sleep on the couch last night. Addie spilled paint and I could barely breathe in there." Tate replied with a sigh, frustration evident in his voice.

Something about his words made me frown, but through the haze of my mind, I couldn't quite seem to work out what it was.

Shrugging, I let the matter slide, deciding to focus on the long day ahead of me instead.

It hit me in the middle of math class, when I was swinging back on my chair, balancing on the two back legs, the end of my pen in my mouth as I stared blankly at the board in front of me. My chair slammed back down to the ground, causing the class to jump at the sudden sound, and I received a glare from my teacher.

If Tate hadn't been in his room last night, then what the hell had I seen?