Will walked out of the high school carrying his backpack over his shoulder and a book in his other hand.
He then sat on the concrete steps, waiting for his older brother to pick him up.
After waiting for about ten minutes, Will got bored and began drawing in his spiral notebook.
He had been having rather vivid dreams about someone. A girl, but he didn't know who she was.
It was the same girl every night, one with long white hair and refined, beautiful face.
She always wore the same black hood.
Will was drawing the girl in his notebook. He had captured every detail about her, as he has seen the dream far too many times.
About twenty more minutes had passed, and Will's older brother Eath had not come by the school.
Will was coming up on finishing the drawing when he noticed movement to the left of him.
He looked over to see a girl leaning in to see what he was drawing.
When she realized he had stopped drawing because he was staring at her, she gasped and turned away.
"Hi." Will said awkwardly.
The girl did not respond.
Instead, she pulled her black hood over her head.
Am I dreaming again? Will questioned himself.
"I..." Will began to make some sort of conversation. "I'm Will."
"Sierra..." she spoke softly, obviously afraid to raise her voice.
Will was about to say something else, but he decided that she may not answer him if he did.
So he went back to drawing.
Several more minutes had passed, and Eath finally texted Will:
'b there n bout 10. b ready.'
Will looked back at Sierra.
She was holding a flower in her hand, a beautiful red rose in fact.
Sierra was carefully eyeing it. Will was eyeing her.
Finally, she pinched one of the petals casually.
And when she did, the red color of the rose began to dissipate under her fingertips, veins of black sprouting from underneath, covering the entire flower, including the thorn splintered stem.
The rose shriveled into ash. Sierra looked at Will.
He stared at her hands in disbelief.
"How did you..."
Before Will could finish, Eath pulled up in his blue mustang, bumping some sort of hip-hop song with modified speakers.
"C'mon lil' bro! Let's go!"
Will got up and got into his brother's car, buckling his seat belt.
He then looked back over to where Sierra was sitting.
But she was nowhere to be seen.
Later that night, Will was working on homework at his desk in his room.
Beginning to become frustrated on a question, he stood up and began pacing like he always does when his thought process ran wild, even when he couldn't sleep at night.
Then his thoughts drifted over to Sierra.
The girl in the black hood.
He kept thinking of the way she shriveled a healthy red rose with just her fingertips.
Who even was she?
Will jumped at the sound of his name, turning around to face the door.
It was his mother.
"Can you please take the trash out to the curb for me?"
"Yeah... Yeah, sure thing..."
Will gripped the trash bag by the drawstrings, tightly sealing it in order to keep the filthy contents inside.
He placed the bag in the metal bin and began to walk inside.
But something caught his eye when a busted lamp post flickered on for a split second, one that was farther down the street.
He tried to focus on the darkness under the lamp post, trying to make out what he saw.
The light flickered again.
He saw the figure of a man.
To get a closer look, Will began to walk down the street, keeping himself aware that this man could possibly attack him if he wanted to.
He was about twelve feet away from the flickering post when it flickered again.
...the man vanished.
Looking around to see where the man went, Will became much more aware of his surroundings now.
He began to walk home.
But the man bolted from the darkness and tackled Will.
Will cried out, and attempted to push the man off of him.
The man's face was about two inches from Will's, but...
...the man had no face.
Will screamed at the top of his lungs.
He stared in horror at the horrific muscle mass that covered the man's head, and his eyeballs seemed to bulge out of his skull.
Finally, he wedged his leg out from the man's chest and kicked him in the face.
The man staggered and fell on his back.
Will pushed himself up off of the ground in time to see Sierra standing over the grotesque mass.
She crouched down calmly and touched the muscle that lacked the man's face.
Black roots sprouted from her fingers and concealed the head of the dead man, wiggling their way around every crevice they can lay upon.
"You have seen far too much," Sierra spoke in a much more confident voice. She looked up at Will through her long, ice-white hair that spilled out of the hood she wore on her head.
"You must leave."
Will remained still, frozen with fear.
"Sierra, what the hell is going-"
"Leave!" she practically yelled at him.
Will took a few steps back at first, then he finally turned around and sprinted back home.
He finally reached his front yard.
He went to the front door, but stopped to take one last look at Sierra under the street lamp.
But she was gone.