It's been almost three weeks since the night my demon possessed brother came into my room. If I hadn't been quick enough he would've caught me messing with the board. For some reason, I feel like if seen it, he would've raised all kinds of hell. Except something's still itching in the back of my mind; how many people are really trapped here? I sigh and climb up out of bed. Yet another one for the story books.
That's how it's starting to feel these days, like everything I do can either make or break whatever is about to happen. It's like walking on eggshells.
I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the light. Then I start screaming. There painted on the mirror is a message written in what looks and smells like blood. Honestly, I don't know if it's human but that wouldn't be the least of things that don't surprise me at this point.
Written along the mirror is the message:
YOU ARE NOT WANTED HERE!
YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF MINE AND I WANT IT BACK!
GIVE IT BACK!
A reflection in the mirror has me turning around. Who ever it was is now gone but for a minute there it looked like that guy who had been in my mother's car on the day she crashed right in front of the school. I can't be sure. Whoever it was they've got a lot of answering to do.
