- Aria's POV -

"What are you doing?" I whisper to the black figure.

I was in the guest bedroom in my old house, and the room was red. As if it had taken a bath in blood. I crane my neck to get a closer look, regretting it as I see the figure making a meal out of Dad's heart.

The figure spins around, crouching down with the heart in its hands. It growls at me, then stabs a long, bony finger into the heart and picks it up, using the nail as a fork. The creature takes another bite out of Dad's heart, and that's when I throw up.

All over my mother's body.

It had been ripped open, guts spilt everywhere and slashed.

"What the hell is this?" I cry, my eyes widening in fear.

The creature doesn't reply, but instead throws the heart over its shoulder and crawls to Dad's body, then rips off the arm with ease. The figure begins to bite into the arm, and with that, I feel a sudden surge of adrenaline. With a warrior cry, I run to the creature and kick it in the face with all my strength.

It falls back with a groan and gets back up in a second, the red eyes flashing with fury. It lunges at me and I hit the ground, my head slamming against the hard floor with such force that I hear a crack. I scream and try to kick my legs, but they don't move at all.

I then realize I'm lying next to Mom's body, her motionless hand touching my shoulder. I'm so distracted that I don't even pay attention to the creature until it's on top of me, ripping my heart out and stuffing it into the mouth.

"Delicious." It snarls.

I scream in agony and watch in horror as the monster consumes my organs, limbs, until finally, I black out.

●●●

"Aria! Aria, wake up!"

My eyelids fly open and I jump when I feel someone shaking me. I let my eyes adjust and squint at the person, taking in the mop of blond hair and the worried blue eyes.

"Miles?" I whisper, realizing I'm shivering and freezing, but also drenched in sweat. I touch my cheeks, sighing when I feel the wetness.

"You left your window open and so did I, but I woke up and you were screaming." He explains with a raspy voice.

Is it just me or does he sound really sexy?

Snap out of it, Brooks!

Jeez, okay! Sorry.

I sit up and pull my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees with my other arm grabbing Stitch.

"Why do you care?" I ask Miles.

He looks taken aback for a second and I wonder if it's just my imagination. "Why were you screaming?"

"I had a nightmare," I reply.

"I've never known anyone with nightmares so bad they scream." He points out, sitting in front of me and cross-legged on my bed.

"I'm fine," I tell him, rubbing my eyes.

He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. "No, you're not. But I will find out why."

Well, the whole freaking town knows why. You could go ask a five-year-old and they'd probably know, too.

"What time is it?" I mumble.

Miles scratches the back of his neck.

"Uh, almost four in the morning, I think."

I groan and flop back down. "I'm going back to sleep. Go away."

He scoffs but climbs off the bed, but I'm not sure if he actually leaves or not because I'm already asleep.

●●●

The first thing I lay my eyes upon when I wake is one big ass hairy spider on my bed.

Did I say one? Sorry, my bad. I meant four big ass hairy spiders.

I knew that moron wasn't capable of being sweet.

I shriek and jump back, falling off the bed in the progress as I watch the creepy crawlers move under my blankets and on my pillows.

Holy fudge sticks, they're tarantulas.

I let out a scream when one of them jumps off my bed and lands on the rug next to me, then darts under the bed.

"Lydia!" I cry, racing towards the door.

"What happened?" The door swings open, revealing a frazzled woman.

"Miles happened!" I screech, stepping away from one of the spiders.

That's when I hear the laughter from the other side of my room, and my eyes snap up to my window.

That son of a b—

"Oh, hello, Miles. Do these creatures belong to you?" Lydia questions, trapping the spiders under glasses.

While I'm glaring at him, Miles is recovering from his fit of laughter and nodding rapidly, then jumps into my room with ease as he collects the spiders and transports them back to his room.

"Quite the troublemaker, aren't you?" Lydia arches an eyebrow at him.

Miles starts to apologize, sneaking glances my way and looking for some sort of reaction. But I throw my arms in the air and give him another icy glare.

"I'll take it from here, Lydia. Miles, as your punishment, you will wash my sheets and do all my other chores for the day. Sounds fair, right Aunt Lyd?" I smirk.

Lydia seems lost in thought before finally agreeing. I grin evilly when I look back at my nemesis, who's mouth is agape.

"Bu—"

Lydia cuts him off. "You can get your ass over here within the next ten minutes, or else I'll have all of your shoes destroyed."

I snicker at Lydia's threat. Over the past week, I've come to learn that Miles treats his shoes like precious diamonds.

Hm, that gives me an idea . . .

"No! Not my shoes! Anything but my babies!" He squeals like a little girl, and I let out a snort.

He actually squealed! I really wish I recorded that.

"Then you better hurry up." Lydia orders, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes, ma'am. Right away!" He salutes her, then closes the window and disappears.

Lydia turns to me. "So, mind telling me what that was all about?"

"Nope." I say.

Without waiting for her reply, I head over to the bathroom and close the door behind me, only to be faced with the reflection of a dead-looking me. My eyes were red and puffy, with tear stains on my cheeks and my hair tangled up. I quickly wash my face and brush my teeth, then go for a five-minute shower. I decide to wear a Tommy Hilfiger shirt and black ripped jeans, with my hair tossed into a messy bun.

I go downstairs and join Lydia and Paul for breakfast, smiling when I'm treated with chocolate chip waffles. I inhale the soft scent and dig in, sighing in delight when I swallow.

Then, I meet the gazes of Lydia and Paul.

They're just staring.

And staring.

They won't even blink!

"Um, why are you guys looking at me like rabid squirrels?"

Lydia says, "Did you seriously just compare us to squirrels?"

"No," I tell her.

Paul shoots me a confused look. "But—"

"I compared you to rabid squirrels." I grin, then finish off the last of my waffles.

Lydia rolls her eyes and stands when there's a knock on the door. Miles steps into the room and sticks his tongue out at me. I return the goofy face, only this time crossing my eyes and flaring my nostrils too. He scoffs and heads up in the direction of my room, but then I remember something.

"Stop!" I hop up and off the chair, ignoring everyone's startled stares while I run up to my room and snatch Stitch, then hide him behind my back as I make my way downstairs again, passing Miles.

There's no way I'm letting him get a hold of Stitch again.

He shrugs and when I finish breakfast, I bolt back upstairs to supervise the giraffe. I lean against the wall and smirk when he struggles to tug the sheets off, swearing when he stubs his toe.

I chuckle and examine my nails, feeling nauseous when sudden flashbacks of my nightmare pop into my mind.

Then suddenly, I'm back at my old house. In the guest bedroom. Reliving everything that happened that day. My hand automatically travels to the necklace I'm currently wearing. The one I never took off since I found my parents, dead. My mother's.

Mom.

She's lying there, on the floor. Her lifeless eyes staring up at my paint covered ceiling, in my room, a soft smile on her face. Except that smile was a mix of terror and relief.

Terror, I understand. Relief? Why would anyone feel relieved when they are about to get murdered?

Gosh, this vision is really confusing. First, it shows the guest bedroom, then brings me back to my current room? Make up your damn mind, brain.

"Mom?" I gasp, reaching out for her hand when her finger twitches.

Then her dark eyes meet my blue ones. The smile on her lips only grows when I hold her hand, tears welling up in my eyes.

Then there's blood. Everywhere. I collapse, my mother's hand now replaced with my father's.

"We love you, Aria. Never forget that."

My eyes grow wide. His lips are moving when he speaks, his voice drowning out and echoing in the distance.

Blood. Guts. Limbs. Brains.

Everywhere. And I'm in the middle of it all.

"ARIA!" Uncle Paul throws water at my face, and for a minute I think it's blood.

Lydia's in tears, Miles and Paul in shock.

Then there's me, "Hey, guys. What's up?"