I woke up with a bad headache and the quick-paced sound of my beating heart. Reaching up to run my hand through my hair I notice that I’m damp from perspiration.
“It’s just a bad dream,” I tell myself to calm down. When I open my eyes, I find everything in my room how I left it—except for one thing. In the dim moonlight through the window, I can see my closet door slightly ajar and a light shining through the crack.
Trying to stay as still and calm as possible, I study the light. The light is shaking slightly and it’s a thin streak. I don’t hear anything strange, but when I look above it I see a sight that makes my stomach hide in my toes and my heart just stop. I feel like puking.
The sight above the light was part of a masked face—enough to be showing one dark, hard, unforgettable eye.
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