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Jeff suddenly stopped. Good thing I noticed too because I was only about a foot behind him. His greasy, matted black hair didn't even blow in the breeze flowing slightly. In the trees it felt like night even though just ten minutes ago I'd been walking down the brightly lit sidewalk behind Destri and his friends to his house. Now the leaves of the trees covered the ground, allowing only small holes of light here and there. For some reason I wanted to blame this all on the trees. It's their faults. They've got an evil side and lured me in with their nice facade. Stupid trees. Stupid stupid stupid trees. And stupid stupid stupid me for falling for the stupid trees' stupid acts-

I was jolted out of my thoughts when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Jeff slowly turned around and I took a couple steps back, away from that bloodied face... "What does he want?" he asked. His whole voice sounded like a cough. Who did he mean, "he"? I pulled the phone from my back pocket frantically, trying to appease the kid. It was Destri. "Where are you?" Sent five minutes ago. He would be so freaked out. I looked up at Jeff, not knowing what to say. The shadows hid most of the bloody, lidless brown eyes of his. "Tell him you are at your house," he said. Not questioning how he knew what Destri asked, I immediately texted quickly back to him the exact words, my shaking hands faltering and my breaths convulsing, staggering gasps. What the heck is he going to do to me...

Almost as soon as I'd sent it he replied. "Send a picture." Dammit. He's not taking any risks. I glanced back up at Jeff again, showing him the phone. He didn't even look. "Send him an old one of you at your house," he said. Scrolling through my pictures, I found one of me with a tired smile on my face and my hair all messed up. I must've just gotten out of bed. But this is a really old one. I think my hair is different. Maybe he won't notice. I just sent it without hesitation, trying to take up as little time as possible. His eyes bore into my head the whole time, I could feel them. Without looking into them, I began to slide the phone into my pocket. Before I could his hand whizzed by and hit it from mine, sending it flying into the forest. Staring at the ground and not into his face, I focused on my breathing and my feet. Then his. They only had socks protecting them. "Take the backpack off." I did. It came with a thud to the ground, resounding in the still quiet. Calm down, calm down, I repeated over and over to myself. It'll be fine...

He let out a small chuckle that had my knees threatening to give out. "I can feel you trembling," he whispered into my ear. I flinched back and closed my eyes. My breathing could qualify as hyperventilating right now. "Turn around."

I did as told and turned, still staring at my feet. The cold became suddenly more intense when I couldn't see what he was doing, even though the sunlight tried poking its way through the thick trees. The sound of a knife sliding out of it's case could be heard. I froze. Am I dying? Is this it?

"Take off your shirt."

He doesn't want my clothes to get dirty because... he wants to wear them? What the heck does he want my shirt for? Slowly I removed my jacket and then my shirt, left standing in just my skinny jeans and sneakers, thinking about why he wanted me to do so-

He wants to know where he's positioning the cut. Maybe he's like one of those murderers who likes to have only certain organs of the body and just wants to get it quickly and ditch the crime scene. That's it. I'm dead. Tonight's the night.

I hadn't prayed much in my life. I was Catholic, and went to Church and everything, but it never really "felt real" to me. In this situation, however, whether it was by my own will or by default, I prayed like heck. Even as these thoughts ran through my mind, I couldn't do anything. My body wouldn't respond, I didn't even feel afraid or scared of the pain. All I could do was pray that I hadn't done anything too bad in life and that my mom would be ok and that Jeff would be caught or turn himself in and that my body would be buried properly-

But the knife didn't slice through me. I didn't see it sticking out of my chest. Instead I felt it digging into my back, sliding down to form a curve. I gasped and dropped my head back in pain, clenching my fists. Is he going to take my organs out while I'm alive?

"Stay still," he ordered, his breath on my shaking back. I felt sweat forming all over me. The knife left my skin and went back up, digging in again to make a straight line this time. The pain was so intense that I almost fell to my knees. But I kept myself upright, sure that if I did anything out of line I'd be dead. Just think about something else. Think of this as getting a tatoo. Think about having to eat dinner soon, and going back to Destri's and sleeping away in his basement. I'm super tired. I can't wait to sleep. Just think about something else...

A few minutes of killing pain shooting through me later and the knife didn't pierce my skin. I breathed deeply, trying to ease the headache and the hurt. My heart pumped so fiercely in my chest and sweat dripped down my body. "Turn around." I did so without thinking, focusing on ignoring the pain. The light was completely gone. Black spots started to take over my vision. "Don't tell anyone about this. I will kill you and your family." I nodded my head, feeling a tear roll down my face. Maybe it was sweat. Or blood.

I heard that psychotic little kid laugh like a maniac with his crooked, scratchy voice.

"Now you're mine. I enjoy having a live victim."

At this I looked up, but he wasn't there. Nothing was there but the trees and the darkness. Nothing felt real either. Not even me or the leaves under my feet or the wind or the trees or the darkness.

The pain. That part felt real.

I reached back to feel the lower part of my back, the cuts being higher. When my hand came back, it was completely covered in wet, metallic-smelling blood, dripping at my fingers. Oh my God. I have to get this fixed fast...

I staggered over to where my phone screen was winking brightly, a spotlight in the black. The grey spots still lit up in my sight, and I hit a tree on my way over. There were a bunch of messages from Destri, sent ten minutes ago. It had seemed like hours, days... "That's an old photo." The next was "Where are you?" The last one was something like, "Get your ass back here now or I'm gonna look for it and make you realize that next time you don't lie to me and you answer me right away, got it?"

Whatever. I walked stiffly to my shirt and jacket, trying not to bend to keep the cuts from stretching. The shirt was what hurt the most, catching on the torn skin and pulling at it. The only thing it was good for was holding the blood. I winced as I slid the jacket on and decided not to carry the backpack on my back. Instead hanging it on my elbow, I texted back with "Coming". Stupid Destri.

The sunlight was not as welcoming as I had thought it would be. The greener grass, the sidewalk and the road, the houses lining the other side of the street, the blue sky... Like I had gone to Hell in fire and heat and death, and when I came back everything was going on like nothing had happened. Like I wouldn't be able to fit back in. I suppose maybe it's better that way, I thought, sighing and stepping gingerly through the grass back onto the sidewalk. Better get to Destri's house.

What had he put on my back?