“No one is coming. I am alone.” I repeated the phrase over and over in my head, trying to tune out the sounds of the old, creaky house. I did this every night, trying to convince myself that I was going to be okay, that no one would hurt me. Every morning, I woke up, alive and safe in my bed. “Everything will be okay.” I told myself, “it always has been. What makes tonight any different?”
   Yet somehow the house seemed wrong tonight--worse than usual. I could almost hear the sound of quiet footprints padding up my stairs. I could almost feel someone's breath, hot on my neck. “Stop!” I told myself, “You'll be fine!” The darkness laid about me thickly as the cold wind whistled through the window. My curtains blew about, casting shadows on the already dark walls.
   My ears perked, and the hairs on my skin followed suit. Certainly, I told myself, it was just my paranoia--there couldn't be anyone in my house. There wasn't anyone in my house. “You are fine!” I whispered to myself again.
   I squeezed my eyes tight and curled into my blanket like a small child, as if it could somehow protect me. I tried to hold my breath, convincing myself that if anyone was really there he wouldn't be able to see me if I just lay still.
   When I opened my eyes again, my heart froze. I stared into the face of a figure, shrouded in darkness. The shadow crept forward, paralyzing me with fear. I tried to scream, shout, cry for help, but all that escaped me was a strangled whisper. The sound of my heartbeat thudded loudly in my ears, overwhelming my senses. I thrashed under the blankets, flinching under that black gaze.
   I wasn't fast enough. The attacker lifted a blade, and, before I could blink, it was buried in my chest.
   Pain seared through my body with the aggressor's plunging blow. I tried once again to call out, but couldn't manage a sound. The shadow disappeared as my vision grew darker, leaving me to focus on the blood spreading on my nightshirt. I fumbled for something to stop the bleeding, but knew that it was no use if I couldn't get help immediately.
   Desperate for an aiding hand, I clutched and clawed at the gaping wound. Realization swept over me like a tide as darkness gripped me with its clammy hands. The statement I had once taken comfort in now roared at me with laughter.
   No one is coming. I am alone.