I am having a hard time writing this. I won't even tell Cameron this. I can't even speak of it. But I know that will lose even more sleep if I don't open up about it. Don't ask me about it anymore. Don't ask anything in the reviews. I won't answer. I refuse to bring this up ever again. Ever. This is taking a lot of will power. Well. This is it. This is true.

I was staring at my ceiling. I had gone to bed at seven. My stepmom was currently in the process of leaving my dad, and it was awkward to talk to him. So, I went to bed hours earlier. But I couldn't sleep. I was staring into space. Trying not to cry about the current situation. I was tangled up in my black comforter and my ceiling was just a shade lighter than the room around me. I felt a cold tear roll down my cheek anyway. I turned onto my side. This had been going on for days, so I did the normal routine. I began to imagine different, random, horrible things happening. Like me threatening the whole school with death. You know, the works for a horror wannabe writer like me. Maybe this whole thing is just a dream. I hope with all my life that it is.

As I closed my eyes and tried to fall into the blissfulness of sleep, I heard a sound. I know this sound. My door is very squeaky, so the door made this sound every time it opened. It was a sort of whine. Thinking it was my sister, I sat up. No one was there. I know what I heard. I know that someone opened that door. But, I didn't care. I should of.

I fell asleep shortly after. I was dreaming. I was being chased. I woke up in a cold sweat. I immediately checked my digital clock. I don't know why, but I always check the time. It was exactly two o'clock. I leaned back on my pillow. Then I froze. There was something watching me.

You always read about the whole "I could feel him staring daggers at me" thing, but this was different. I could fell anger pulsating off of the thing. I could hear it breathing. It felt as it was right behind me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. There are... no words to describe this. Complete terror.

She was at the foot of my bed. The smell was...horrible. Disgusting. She was wearing a dress. Victorian Era. It even had a corset. It was beautiful. Perfect. Her hair. It was tangled and ragged. Dirty blonde hair veiled her face. She was terribly amazing. Like she was once glorious but has fallen to a lesser being. I feel like a jerk for saying that.

I couldn't move. Even if I wanted to. She was stopping me. She began to talk.

"You. You will be like me. You will succeed." Her voice was quiet and feminine.

This wasn't so bad. Don't get me wrong, I was scared out of wits. At this point I thought I was dreaming.

"But you will be betrayed. The one you love most will kill you. Just like my husband." The thing still had her head down.

I somehow had the breath to speak. "Who are you?" I wish I had asked the important question.

"My name is Helen." I would have laughed under any other circumstance. The name fit.

The woman, Helen, looked up. All irony left. I opened my mouth to scream, but I couldn't. Her face was pale. Her eyes. Her eyes were gone. Not like Eyeless Jack, not just black sockets. Torn out. Bloody. I could see her... I could see her bones. Blood was still running down her face.

Her voice was rugged and hoarse now. "You will end up like me. You will be killed." She reached out and touched my neck. I passed out at this point. I had an incident when I was younger. I had been strangled. I survived, but I don't let anyone touch my neck. Not even my parents.

I feel like a wimp for fainting. I am sitting on my bed as I write this. With the light on. At three am. This is my story. I'm am still scared. I don't know who Helen is, or how she died, or anything. All I know is that she was killed. And that she was trying to warn me. I wish I knew why. I used to want to experience the paranormal or whatever people call it. No, I don't want a thing to do with it. I'm done. Maybe I can sleep now. I don't know.