I don't want to be here. I want to be a normal seventeen-year-old girl, worried about exams and prom and boys (like Gowan) and getting my own car and going to university and 'Getting a Life'. Aren't I supposed to be freaking out over eyelashes, the new tattoo, this hot band, my next outfit like those kids out there? Or shouldn't I be pondering my career, my path in life, the meaning behind Everything for me, the future?
A tree. It's a tree. I convince myself of this, almost fully.
Until the thing steps forward, his head turning a fraction in my direction. I can almost hear the tiny creeeeeeeeeeeeak as his head rotates. It is a tall, long-limbed, bulbous-headed shadow.
I blink again.
Closer each time. Like the trees. Tall, thin. Eerily still. Still and watchful. A man. Something like a man.
But he has no eyes.