I am awake. I will not sleep. Not tonight, maybe not for many nights, maybe not ever. I have been awake for days. I can't sleep, not in here anyway. She's in here. They don't believe me. They think that I'm overthinking it, but they are wrong. "Just go to sleep," they say, "you're fine." They don't understand, for they haven't experienced the hell that I have for the past week, they haven't seen her, heard her, feared her. They are ignorant. They are blind.

   But I am not blind. My eyes are open, and they will not close until she is no more, and since she was no more to begin with, they will never close. What a horrible burden. What wretched pain that comes with the joy of life. Ha! Joy my foot! I spit in the face of joy, for it spits in my open and tired eyes every dreaded night, every tense eve...

   For the past week she has been here, in the corner of my room, watching. How can she torture me by doing absolutely nothing at all?! How can she find humor in it?! Don't say she doesn't, because I know that she does. I can here her laughing. Her laughter is a knife through my ears as my silent sobs are music to hers. On the first day, however, she did not laugh, for I did not cry. I was skeptical. It's nothing. I told myself. It's just Halloween starting to catch up with you, now sleep. But I did not sleep. Every time I closed my eyes to drift into my sweet slumber, her cold and icy stare would cut deeper into me, and my eyes would race open. Maybe, just for tonight, I could stay awake. Just for tonight...

   But alas the next night came, and with it bringing its horror and twisted little games. She stared at me, and I watched. I watched so long that I thought that for a second, she had gone. So My eyes departed from the corner. They traveled around the room, as to be sure that she was nowhere else to be found, and then allowed themselves the comfort of rest. What a horrible thing to do. They say that it's worse to let go of something that you have let yourself grow too fond of, than let go of something that you hadn't let yourself grow fond of in the first place, and they were right. For not a second later, I swear, I swear it on my life almost taken, that she threw something at me! I don't know what, as it had shattered, but it was intended for my death. I thanked my lucky stars for her failed aim. Or maybe it hadn't failed, maybe hat was only a taste of her wrath. Yes that had to be it, or she wouldn't have given up that easily. This night I sobbed, and she laughed.

   She knew what she was doing, I'll give her that, because almost nothing had really ever scared me before her bloody hands had thrusted whatever glass object that was toward my helpless figure. For years, I had been fearless, brave, courageous. I could walk through the darkest forest on Halloween night to meet the devil himself and have a cup of tea with him, but not now. I'm not sure that I'll even survive to do that. Or maybe I will, but I'm sure that she would be escorting me through the forest, and smiling that victorious smile all the way. She knew what she was doing, and I hated it. For once in my life, I was clueless.

   The third night came, and this time, I left my lights on. Ha! I thought. I have outsmarted the demon! No, I didn't. For no sooner than I had climbed into my warm and inviting bunk, she had stripped the light from the room before my very eyes, and it was dark again. "Witch!" I cried out, "Why do you do this to me? What have I done to you?" She was laughing, as I was sobbing, but she did not speak. She never spoke. I still have yet to decide on whether this fact brings me comfort or dismay. Anyway, soon her laughter faded, and it was silent. This was no better than when she launched the object at my head. This was in fact worse. Worse not only because I knew that this was her plan, that she would let me grow pleased with the silence, and believe that she's gone. When she would decide that my time was up, she would break the crippling silence by torturing me once again, however that may be. I don't know what she'll do, but it must be far more nauseating and awful than before, I just know it.

   This was also worse because for the first time since she had arrived, she as nowhere to be seen. My body lay so still that I began to think that I was stuck in this position, while my eyes traveled every square inch of the area, searching, and for once hoping, that I would find her. Yes, indeed, hoping. No, I've not gone mad. The only reason for my hope is because it is easier to fear something that you can see, rather than wait for them while your fear eats your very insides in suspense. However, the longer I searched, and the unfluncuating fact that she was still nowhere to be found started to bring me a slight shred of hope, something that I had not permitted to enter my emotions in the past few days...

   I was right not to. For the second that I gave a sigh of relief, smiled, and closed my eyes whispering to myself, "It's over. It's finally over," inviting a small tear of pure joy to journey down my cheek---and it did so elegantly---was the same godforsaken second that that beast proceeded with her devestating plan! Right as I had almost drifted off to another place far better than this one, I felt cold. I felt her sharp, yet airy grip on my throat. At first it was soft and hard to tell if it was even there, but she slowly tightened and by the time she had tightened to her greatest power it seemed like a mere moment that it took her to do so. By then my eyes had opened, quiet little tears journeying down my face once more, trying to escape this demon, but I could not. I tried to fight it, but my body would not move. Besides, what good would it do anyway? I couldn't flee from something like this, she would find me, and be twice as dreadful as before. I would not let that happen. Now that she had a hold on my skin as strong as I wish that I was, she crept closer to my face, caressing my face with her other hand, and whispered to me with the most beautiful, and terrifying voice that I had ever heard, "You can't get rid of me, Darling. I'm your new. Best. Friend." She let out a fit of laughter, not her usual giggles, as she released my neck and faded into nothing before me. Gasping for air, I began to sob, this time, not holding back. I was loud, but her laughter was louder, for it directed my glossy eyes toward the corner, and she was laughing, as I was sobbing.

It is now night seven. For the next few days after the fourth, all she had done was sit in the corner and watch, and it killed me. I knew one day that she was going to kill me. I have mixed feeling about it now. At first, I was frightened by the thought of death, but now, I'm eagerly awaiting it. I just want this to be over, and she knows it. She won't let me have to satisfaction. For all I know, she will just let me rot along with my hope.