Things are about to get a lot more suspenseful and creepy in this chapter, so be prepared.

At 8:00 PM, two hours later than she'd promised Rose she'd be getting home, Jackie Tyler was still out. In addition to this, she had gotten drunk again, and if it wasn't for Hannah, she would probably had stayed at the bar all night long. As Hannah drove her across the starless night, Jackie was having a meltdown of sorts, moaning as if she were seriously ill as well as crying. Once again, she'd made a big mess out of things. Just where did Rose think she was? Had she had a good first day? Was Ella doing all she could to keep Rose from worrying?

"Hurry up, Hannah! I don't have all night!" she yelled in a voice struck with agony and pain.

"Why didn't you think about this before you drank four glasses of beer, Jackie? You know how much your daughter needs you, and yet you keep up with all these bad habits," Hannah said in a concerned manner which showed little criticism, but which Jackie still hated hearing. Just who did Hannah think she was? She had her family and a well-paying position; everyone at work respected her and listened to what she had to say about the children. Even if she did go on to have six children, as her own parents did, she could not claim to understand how Jackie felt as a parent. Almost none of the women at the nursery school could, because even those who had children of their own had a spouse that fully supported them.

"Couldn't you at least let me get home on my own? You don't realize just how degrading this feels, and making me feel like some wasted teenager is not going to improve anything."

"I couldn't let you get home on your own since you're too drunk. You know perfectly well that you could kill yourself if you were driving." Jackie's car had been left next to the bar despite all her complaints, and Hannah had promised to get it back in the morning and drive her to work.

"Who says I would be driving? I'm perfectly capable of getting around on my own two feet, thank you very much."

"Just fifteen minutes ago, you were vomiting in a dirty bathroom and at the point of fully passing out. The bartender was threatening to kick you out. I had no choice, Jackie. Now please just let me drive."

Jackie could still hear all those men screaming like lunatics over some football game from a foreign country that was being shown on an old television with stolen cable installed. If she hadn't been getting so sick that she'd started groaning and yelling, they would not have noticed her at all. The situation almost reminded her of George Irving at the nursery school.

He was four and a very bright boy who had also been a friend of Rose's the year before. He could already recite the whole alphabet, read picture books, and write his name, while also being very active in games and sports. His parents were successful attorneys who expected nothing but the best from their oldest son, and any suggestions of struggle were completely ignored by them.

However, George had an obvious stutter. When he greeted Jackie this morning, he'd said "Go- Good morning, Mrs. Ty-Tyler. How is Ro-Rose do-doing?" During lessons, it wasn't noticeable, but during regular conversations, he nearly always did this, yet the teachers always laughed about it, dismissing it as a difficulty to find the right words.

But Jackie knew that it was a speech problem. She'd read that if children received therapy for this at an early age. However, when she suggested this, nearly all the teachers dismissed her concern. "If you had a real education, you'd know that these kinds of things are all just a phase," one of them had said to her this morning. It was useless to try to convince them. Since she was just an aide, her opinions were never taken into consideration.

"Drop me off here, Hannah. I can easily walk back home at this point."

"No, Jackie; you're staying here."

Suddenly, another car was approaching them; going at a high speed. Despite how Jackie was feeling at the moment, she knew that the vehicle could collide into them.

"Stop now!" She warned.

"No!" Hannah had not noticed the vehicle.

"I mean it! That car's about to crash into us!" The lights from that other vehicle were getting closer at every second.

"What are you..."

And that point, there was a crash.

Then, Jackie felt as if someone were dragging her away. The glass that came from the front window, which was next to where Jackie had been seated, must have cut parts of her face, because she could taste blood coming from her lower lip, but other than that, it was almost as if she were half-asleep. In a way, it even felt peaceful.

But that was until she got a sight of the other car. A couple had been driving, and it was obvious that they were dead. From the man, there was an open crack in the forehead, with blood slowly making its' way out, running all over his face. There were other smaller cuts as well, but their effects on his appearance were just as equally gruesome. The woman didn't have as much cuts, but the rest of her appearance was even more disfiguring. Her eyes were wide open, with almost all the color drained out of them, and they reflected a deep shock that took a fatal hold of her. Her head was bend forward, with her mouth as widely opened as the eyes, and gave the impression of someone who was suffocating. If Jackie wasn't as conscious as she was, she would have thought that they were zombies.

Then, she heard a horrific scream; the kind that people let out if they're being tortured or are in unbearable pain, as opposed to simply feeling frightened. It sounded so awful that Jackie felt as if it were a blow in the face or some kind of force trying to knock her out. Who it came from was not something she managed to notice, and at the moment, she assumed it was Hannah or even herself. However, she could not cover her ears because someone had gotten a hold of her.

The next thing she knew, she was seated on the backseat of a large van, with Hannah right next to her. She had not gotten seriously injured on account of how the car had only only hit the side where the doors were, but she still had a wet cloth around her forehead on account of how it had hit the steering didn't say a word, but it was obvious that she was frightened. Jackie had a bandage wrapped around her chin, but other than that, she had no serious injuries. Why they were close to being fine while those driving the other vehicle had been seriously killed was something that was beyond her comprehension.

The person who helped them had stepped out of the car. It was a woman with short dark hair who was dressed from head to toe in black. Her age was hard to tell, as her features didn't give any obvious signs of being either young or middle-aged. And yet, all that mystery shown through her appearance seemed to give her a strange kind of beauty that defied any particular standards.

"One of you lives around here. I highly suggest that you get in there before anyone tries to approach you," she said in an authoritative tone.

It was the apartment building where Jackie lived. It was obvious that it was best if she went in there right away, but before she left, she asked, "Who are you, and how do you know where I live?"

"I am not part of the police or any of the other British authorities, if that's what you're thinking. However, I have more knowledge of things than you or any of them will ever be capable of obtaining."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That's none of your concern. What matters is that I managed to save you and your friend from what could have been a terrible fate. As a matter of fact, I think you felt the presence of what could have taken over you."

Did that explain the scream? But Jackie didn't ask. Instead, she got out of the car and started walking up to the building. Before she got inside, she heard the woman say, "And remember not to say a word about me to anyone. I'm nearly impossible to find, and those who manage to come in contact with me have a difficult time believing the things they see."

Within a matter of seconds, the woman and her van were gone, disappearing into the dark city night.

...

To say that Ella Ferris was worried would have been an understatement.

"Do you realize how late it is, Jackie? I can't even begin to tell you about the state Rose has been in for the past couple of hours."

"What so you mean? Has she gotten unwell again?" This was the only thing that could make things worse.

"When I picked her up, she was very quiet, and wouldn't answer my questions about how school went. I thought she must have had a hard day, so I took her to the indoor pool in this building. At first, she was in a good mood, and started telling me about how she made a new friend as I was teaching her how to swim. But then, she went completely still. I had to hold her to prevent her from drowning, and kept calling her name in order to get her to snap out of it, but she couldn't."

Rose had another blackout. It happened at least once every couple of months, and all the doctors who'd checked on her couldn't find out what the problem was, suggesting that it was probably just her way of handling stressful situations. Ella was studying Psychology at the university, and she couldn't find any explanation either.

" So I took her back in here, where she now appeared to be asleep. Within two hours, she woke up crying out for you. She said that she'd dreamed that you were in a car accident, and that while we were in the pool, John Smith had been warning her that you were going to get in some kind of trouble. Nothing I told her would calm her down, until she went all silent again. Within a couple of minutes, she said that everything would be all right, because John Smith said that he'd sent someone in to save you."

How could Rose have found out? Was this intuition of hers stronger than Jackie had thought? And for that matter, what did John Smith represent to her? Was he really just an imaginary friend, or some voice in Rose's head? She had a good reason to believe that Rose was going through some kind of mental illness on account of those blackouts and John Smith, but what could possibly explain all these things she knew which no other person could ever guess?

And there stood Ella, whose auburn hair was cut into a bob, who wore a bikini when swimming with no embarrassment, listened to all those new rock bands that appealed to misfits, and was one of the best students at her university's Psychology program. She thought she had everything figured out, but like Jackie, she could never understand Rose. It was very unlikely that she would believe what Jackie was starting to suspect, and she had no intention of telling her.

"Jackie, what happened to you?" Ella asked, finally looking into Jackie's injured face.

"I was out late with Hannah and I ended up getting into a fight, " she lied, saying the first thing that came into her mind.

"Were you drinking again?"

"I was." This was all she was willing to tell the truth about.

"How could you? Of all days, you had to do it during your daughter's first day of school. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Jackie said nothing in defense of herself. It was useless. She knew perfectly well that this was all her fault.

"The least you can do now is get into her room and let her know you're all right for now. Since she had such a difficult day, I'm not going to tell her about you did. If you want to admit it to her later, that's your decision. But don't forget about what happened. Something has to change, Jackie, and neither I nor anyone else can do anything to make it happen. It's all up to you."

They walked through the living room, where stacks of books, notebooks, and paper could be found on the shelves, coffee table, and floor, and into Rose's room, where the walls were decorated with drawings and posters from cartoons and movies, particularly The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, and the floor was covered with toys and books. Rose was in the bed, with her arms around the Snoopy stuffed animal she'd had since she was a baby.

"Rose, I'm home," she whispered, and then she embraced her daughter.

Rose glanced at her mother and took notice of the bandage that covered part of her face. "Mummy, did you get hurt?" she asked in a quiet and worried voice.

"I did, but I'm all right now," she said calmly, trying her best not to fully admit what happened, yet avoid lying.

"John Smith said that you were in trouble."

"But I'm here right now, honey, and that's all that matters."

"Are you sure you're okay?" This was the last thing Rose asked on the subject on that day.

"I am, and I promise this won't happen again."

Rose put Snoopy on the table where her lamp was set up, and started wrapping herself with her purple bed sheets.

"School didn't go so well for me," she admitted.

"Don't worry too much about it. A lot of people have bad first days. You can tell me more about it in the morning."

Ella started to leave, with that worried look remaining on her face. She knew there was something which Jackie had avoided telling her, but she decided not to bring it up right now. It was best to force her to confront her own problems for once.

At that moment, Jackie promised herself two things: that she was never going to drink alcohol again, and that she would do her best to find out what was going on with Rose. If all of this could be done, then perhaps it would help her have more of a chance of getting that life she had always wanted.

But what if there really was some kind of danger out there; something which nobody could possibly explain or believe? If so, what could she do about it? The events of that night remained vivid in her memory, and as she was reading to Rose, she could hear that scream echoing through that part of her mind that stored her darkest memories.

Updated author's note: If some things about this chapter seem confusing, just know that many details, including the identities of those who died and the woman who rescued Jackie and Hannah, as well as what actually caused the accident, will be revealed in later chapters. I have no promises for when the next chapter will be posted, since I don't have my laptop right now, but chapters 1 and 2 have been edited, so check that out if you want to. Otherwise, continue to read and review.