Day 7: One, Two

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Everything I'm about to tell you is one hundred percent true, no matter how crazy it sounds.

Before I begin... Mom...Dad...Danny...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the truth. I'm sorry for being so distant lately. I'm sorry for acting like a real bitch to you.

I love you all. I hope you can forgive me.

And I hope this helps you understand why I've been keeping my distance.

It all started a few weeks ago, around mid terms, when my friends, Luke, Anna, Janice and I were getting shit faced.

We'd had a long couple weeks, studying for one midterm after another and burning ourselves out with each one. We needed a break. Needed a way to get away from it all.

So there we were, down in the basement of our dorm, drinking booze and having a good time.

Pretty soon, we were so drunk, we would have done just about anything.

So we started telling ghost stories. Stupid, dumb stories, each one making us laughing harder than the last.

It was a good time. Probably the best we'd had that entire semester

Until we reached the end. Until Luke told us the tale of the living nightmare.

The creature that comes to you when you sleep and makes your worst nightmares a reality.

The monster that laughed while you screamed.

The killer who could murder you in your sleep and no one would even know.

Of course, none of us believed it. I mean... would you?

We laughed at all of it, even at his stupid ass name, a name that sounds like a bad joke on it's own.

I'm not laughing now.

It happened to Luke first. Probably because he was the one who told us about the nightmare. I don't remember the exact day it happened... my memories been getting fuzzy lately.

I remember that Janice, Anna and I hadn't heard from him for a few days so we stopped by his dorm to see if he was alright.

He was sitting at his desk, eyes bloodshot, hair a mess. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which wasn't the case.

He hadn't slept in a week. Not since that night.

We asked him if he was okay but he shrugged us off, acted like we weren't even there.

"I see him." Was all he would say. "I see the nightmare. Even when I'm awake, I see him. Laughing at me. Taunting me."

That was the last thing he ever said to us. And that was the last time any of us ever saw him.

The next day, during Chapel, the school informed us that Luke was dead. They didn't give any details but his roommate Wes, told us all we needed to know.

That Luke had been torn in half, right down the middle, his organs and intestines strung about the room like party streamers and ornaments.

"The blood's still there." Wes had remarked with dead eyes and a nauseous look on his face. "They still can't get it out of the ceiling."

We were scared. None of us knew what was happening or who was doing it. We didn't want to believe that the story Luke had told us was true.

We should have. We should have believed all of the stories we told that night.

The three of us left the dorm pretty shaken up, Janice the most. She and Luke had been together for a long time, even before College. After talking with Wes, she'd walked away, tears streaming down her face, body shuddering with each sob.

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