You knew he looked suspicious from the first time you saw him.  There was something off putting about him that you couldn’t put your finger on.  But it was clear now, you should have acted on that sense. You would be in your bed asleep, but not tonight, or any after.

It started like a normal day for you; you grudgingly rolled out of bed and got on the bus.  Sleep through first period, then write all during second. Lunch was when things changed. Some freshmen sat at the table you always sat at, so you found a new table; occupied by one.  You could’ve sworn he had been watching you the whole time, but you were hungry and sat down to eat. As you read your book and nibbled on your food, the hair stood up on the back of your neck.  You looked up and he was staring at you, unblinking. Shocked, you stared back. Unable to look away, you watched as his blank expression changed, his lips curled into a smile, almost sinisterly.  But that thought was quickly pushed out by the words that came out of his mouth,”Ha, did you know that vegetables aren’t as healthy as they used to be?” Putting the baby carrot you were about to crunch down on back onto the table, you began to engage in conversation with him.

He looked ordinary enough: pale skin, sunken brown eyes, and short but messy hair.  He blended in with the rest of the students at your school. This was by his choice, of course.  His intention was to go unnoticed, and by the time you noticed him it was already too late. 

Innocent at first, you were soon spilling all kinds of secrets and personal thoughts with him.  Of course, you had no idea this was happening, it is normal for a psychopath to be incredibly charming and manipulative.  Before you knew it, you had already told him where you lived, what kinds of pets you had, even what types of cars your parents drove.  As the time slipped away, he began pressing deeper, even getting you to admit that you liked to sneak out of your bathroom window. Shortly after, the bell rang and you departed for your afternoon classes.  As you left the cafeteria, you saw him quickly walking to the opposite door.  

The rest of the school day was uneventful, and soon you were getting off the bus and walking through your front door.  You laid in your bed and began working on the stack of homework you accumulated that day. Afternoon passed, and you had all but forgotten about your lunch encounter.  As you lazily shoved the completed homework into your bag, you began to get ready for bed. A quick shower and then a goodnight to your parents, you went to your room and turned on the tv.

 Unbeknownst to you, the boy who you met at lunch had been sitting outside waiting for your bedroom lights to turn off for the better part of three hours.  Creeping silently to the house you had described to him, in precisely the location you had said it was, he checked to make sure the cars in the driveway matched the ones you had mentioned.  Being quiet enough to not wake any parents or lightly sleeping pets, he lightly lifted the window you had snuck out of so many times before, and pulled himself in. Careful to not make a sound, he crept towards the door illuminated by TV light from underneath.

Laying in your bed, you thought you heard the floor squeak.  Probably the dumb dog, you think to yourself. Is the door moving?  Or is it just an illusion created by your sleep deprived mind? As it opened wider you knew it was real, but as the kid from lunch crossed the threshold you were sure you were dreaming.  That thought lasted about two seconds before he bolted across the room in a few long strides, and struck you in the head. Blackness enclosed on you.

 You woke up with your eyes closed and an aching head.  As you tried to feel the lump that was surely going to be on your forehead, you panic and thought you were paralyzed.  Your arms won’t come up to feel your face. Forcing your eyes open you saw why, you were sitting in a chair, arms tied to the rests, and legs tied to the legs.  Looking up you faced a mirror. You were reflected in it; the dread set in.

   You heard footsteps coming. Feigning sleep, you sagged your head and listened.  The footsteps stopped. Silence, complete and utter silence. Daring a glance you cracked your eyes open and look at the mirror.  There he was, standing behind. Eyes locked on yours, the same sharp smile from earlier on his face.

Hours later you wake up.  You are outside now, it is dark.  There is blood pouring from large gashes cut into your stomach.  You feel the wet grass under your palms and mud over your clothes.  You know your time is limited, you can feel it inside you. You aren’t sure what time it is or where you are.  It feels like it's been forever since you were in your bed. On all fours, you make your way across the grass. Your hands find asphalt, making you realize you’re on a road.  You start to hear a low rumble. A pair of headlights comes into view. It appears to be a large truck. You frantically begin to wave your hands and yell to get the driver’s attention, but all you manage to do is croak and flail wildly.  The driver doesn’t see you as the distance closes in. He was on the brink of sleeping. A loud splat, and you are no more.