Nora's POV

The candle was too dim. Too dim. It’s coming… it’s coming… I whispered it, but the words bounced in my skull, louder than my voice, screaming at me. My hands shook, my legs twitched, and I couldn’t stop rocking back and forth. August… she’s staring, isn’t she? Watching me, judging me, like she knows. But no one knows. No one ever knows.

The shadows—don’t look at them, don’t breathe near them, they’ll follow—they’re moving, moving, moving, always moving. I wanted to run, but the floor felt sticky, holding me down. My head spun. My heart. My heart. Too loud. Too fast.

I muttered under my breath, curling into myself, whispering, chanting, repeating: It’s coming… it’s coming… it’s coming… The words made my tongue raw, my throat raw. I didn’t care if someone heard me. They couldn’t understand. No one could understand.

August. She’s looking. Looking. Watching. Maybe she sees it too. Or maybe she’s part of it. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t stop thinking it’s here. It’s always here. It’s behind the walls, under the floor, inside me. I’m not safe. What in the world have I done? I did what I was never supposed to do without anyone suspecting — that’s what got me in here. Now I’m stuck in here with freaks… especially that ginger-haired girl staring at me… what was her name again? Oh yeah, August Winscolin, that freak! She’s always in her usual dilemma. She barely speaks, except to herself. And what is that? A voodoo doll? How childish. Just like everyone else.

And yet… I couldn’t look away. August Winscolin, with her careless stare and quiet ways, haunted my thoughts. I needed to watch her, to know what she was thinking, to be near her — even if no one else understood why. Every time I spoke badly about her, there was a spark that ignited my heart. Was this obsession? I wanted to get closer and closer, maybe to feel her touch on my skin… I just couldn’t help it. I was too obsessed with her.

I was lost in my thoughts when she suddenly approached me and spoke.