Okay I'm so so so so very sorry about the long update but I'm lazy and I was low on inspiration, so yeah. As I promised Freddy's in this chapter and it starts to explain (though vaguely) why this stories called reincarnation. I also added more about Polly and the mesquite flavored chips.

"I sincerely wonder what is wrong with you." I told Amy while she painted a picture of a pink pony and a tricycle.

"I'm being creative" she said without looking up from the gooey paint mass.

"You're making people nauseous"

"You're not people you're just person"

I blinked, "They don't like it when you say that"

Now she looked at me, "Huh?"

"They don't like you, you make them feel ill. They want for you to go away."

"Who's they?"

"The others," I whispered dramatically. Amy was staring at me like a small child, hanging on my every word. "We don't like you Amy" I said in a lower pitch, it still sounded like me but different enough to freak her out. "We want you to go AWAY!" I shouted the last word. Amy screamed, dropped the paint brush, stabbed the painting with her elbow and turned and ran from the room.

I burst out laughing, "GULLIBLE!"

With the painting sufficiently dead I was fairly pleased with myself. I went to the kitchen for a mountain dew and I saw….. (insert dramatic cheesy 80's horror film suspense music)…. Polly.

That damn bird was staring at me with such contempt that it was hard to not just throttle her then and there.

I've always known she'd be the death of me, since the first moment I saw her, I knew. Her beady little bird eyes stared straight into mine as if she would love nothing more than to fly off her perch and peck my face to death.

The bird is Satan in disguise.

I shrugged off the feeling of impending doom and grabbed my mountain dew and mysterious chips. I quickly retreated to the living room before Polly decided to eat me… and my chips, she'd do that just to spite me.

Amy sat in a lazy boy near the couch. "You're mean" she told me.

"You're a sissy" I said quoting a happybunny shirt.

She studied the mesquite bag, "are you sure that's edible"

"Nope, I wouldn't have gotten them if the man at the store would've told me what they were in the first place."

"It's not his fault you scare people."

"But it's his fault he was scared," I said popping open my bag of chips. The smell would have brought down a charging elephant. I covered my nose with my sleeve, "Holy God". I cautiously removed a chip from the bag, I could just hear the Jaws theme in the background and I placed the chip in my mouth.

And promptly spit it out, "HOLY SHIT IT IS MADE OUT OF MESQUITOES!" I chugged half the 2 liter bottle of mountain dew to remove the offensive flavor from my mouth. Mosquitoes drink human blood so eating them is almost the same as being a cannibal and I just don't want to.

I tossed the bag to Amy, "You'll like 'em" I told her rising to hide in my room from the horrors of odd chips and pink ponies, consoling myself with mountain dew.

"But you didn't…."

"Yes and we're complete polar opposites, you'll like them".

Polly made a loud rude noise at me as I passed through the kitchen scaring the crap out of me (almost literally, but not enough for me to worry about myself).

I grabbed a bottle of Alka-Seltzer out of the cupboard and threw the whole thing at her. She squawked again at me and I hissed loud enough for her to shrink back. I was superior and for now at least she recognized that.

I smiled, satisfied and sprinted to my room.

It was still mid-morning so I blocked off all ways for light to get into my room. I burn uncommonly easy so it's best for me to stay away from bright lights.

I hadn't slept that night, or the night before, or many nights at all in several weeks. Finally insomnia was catching up with me, I just managed to hobble to my bed before I passed out, with my prized soda under my arm like a child's teddy bear.

The world was surrounded by swirling mist, colors melded together to form new shades and tones. Outside my house 1428 Elmstreet, I waited for something unknown. I didn't care about the colors that were new to me, all that mattered was that I stood here. That I didn't move, that I didn't do anything but wait.

But I wanted to run around, I wanted to explore my neighborhood. And yet I knew that I shouldn't move.

"Don't move, Erin" I told myself in a whisper, "Don't be a fool"

"Foolish girls go to their graves" said a gruff voice behind me. I wasn't scared, not when he spoke, nor when I saw his face.

"Hello Freddy" I said calmly, "Do you remember me"

Freddy stared at me, awestruck. I walked toward him, "I asked you a question Krueger."

"Janice," he gasped.

"Good job Krueger, you get a gold star for the day. You remember me. Why did you kill me Krueger?"

He stared for a moment, clearly unaccustomed to victims coming back.

"Don't worry Freddy, I wont be mad" I told him, still advancing closer and closer. "I really liked you Freddy, but you were a fool. You made a mistake, you figured I wasn't too stubborn to come back." I was close enough to him that I could have reached out and touched him but I continued advancing. In his ear I whispered, "Why did you kill me?"

"You knew…"

"Of course I knew about your strange little fetish, murder. I always figured you were that type of person! But that still doesn't answer. WHY. DID. YOU. KILL. ME." With each step I took forward he took one back. He was afraid of me and I basked in that glory, his fear. Then I hesitated, "I seem to be waking up Krueger, but don't fret. We WILL see each other again, VERY VERY soon."

When I woke up, I didn't remember the dream, I just felt at peace.

I'm really proud of this chapter, so tell me how I did. Click the little button that says review. You haven't clicked it yet. Do it now. I SAID NOW

Devils Dictionary- IDIOT, n.

A member of a large and powerful tribe whose influence in human affairs has always been dominant and controlling. The Idiot's activity is not confined to any special field of thought or action, but "pervades and regulates the whole." He has the last word in everything; his decision is unappealable. He sets the fashions and opinion of taste, dictates the limitations of speech and circumscribes conduct with a dead-line.