Sometimes, I become in denial about the events that occurred that night, like it never really happened. But it did. Sometimes, the paranoia, the fear of every person I come in contact with, becomes suffocating. Sometimes, I hate myself just because I have no one left. Sometimes, I just want to join my family, wherever they are. And sometimes, I get the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, that he's still out there. Hunting me down, craving to finish what he started. (Sequel to 'My Monster')