Once Nick finally called to let me know he was home, I headed straight over. Mom had only quizzed me with a few questions before she finally agreed to let me go. Surprisingly, the drive over went smoothly, too—peaceful, even—with no voices or anything creepy happening.

As I walked in, Nick was setting up cameras. "I'm going to record everything tonight, just in case," he said from behind one of the cameras when he heard me. "If that's okay with you."

"Yeah, that's fine. I think that would be great, actually, so if anything happens, we'll have proof." Proof that I'm not crazy.

"We lost everything from the sanatorium."

"What?" I asked, knowing what all we'd captured. "All of it?"

He stood up. "Yep. All we have are a few files from the voice recorders, but everything else was solid black. It's like we recorded hours of nothing but blank screens."

"Figures."

"Well, if the stuff you've said has happened around you, maybe we'll catch something tonight." He pointed down the hall. "You can put your stuff in my room. I'll sleep out here on the couch, if I sleep at all." He smiled, and I couldn't tell if he was flirting, or just excited by the fact something unexplainable might happen.

Either way, I ignored him and headed to his room, which was only about ten steps away. As soon as I walked in, something to my right caused me to drop my bag and almost run back out.

Sitting in a chair in the corner was an almost life-size clown. It reminded me of the one from that old movie, Poltergeist, and I knew Nick would definitely have to take that thing out if he expected me to sleep in here. I hated clowns, which is one of the reasons I didn't go to see the remake of that old movie. Leave it to Nick to have some freakishly scary movie replica in his room. I sat my bag down on the bed, and as I turned around, I made it a point not to look in the corner.

"I'm gonna put a camera in here, facing the door, as well as one inside the door, facing the bed. I'm thinking that will be enough for tonight, don't you?" he asked when I joined him back in the kitchen.

"I sure hope so."

He looked up from the monitor that was sitting on the kitchen table. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "Just tired."

There was a loud knock from behind me that caused me to jump. The thumping of my heart against my chest had become a normal occurrence the past couple of days, but I still hated the feeling.

"It's okay," Nick assured me as he walked past me towards the door. "I ordered pizza."

We ate and talked about everything non-paranormal, since I told him I wasn't in the mood to discuss it, before I told him I was going to bed. "If I see or hear anything, I'll let you know," I told him.

"Okay, but even if you don't, I'll know," he said with a smile as he tapped the monitor in front of him. "I'll be watching you," he said in a deep, psycho voice, which was totally not needed.

I started to go on to bed but remembered the sadistic clown. "Oh, do you care to get that clown out of your room for tonight? There's no way I can sleep with that thing in there."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "What clown?"

"The Poltergeist-looking clown. The one in the corner of your room."

He shook his head like he didn't understand what I was talking about. "Why would I have a clown in my room?"

"I don't know. Because it looked like...." I seemed to lose my words.

"I don't have a clown, Amber, or any other type of doll. That clown from Poltergeist scared the shit out me when I was younger. I'd never have one in my room. Hell, the one from the new movie looked even scarier, PG-13 or not." He exaggerated a shiver.

"But... I saw it. When I went in to put my bag down. I saw it. It was in the corner in that chair."

"Amber, trust me. I have no clowns in this house. None."

My chest felt heavy, causing my breathing to become erratic. "But...."

He stood up and walked to where I stood frozen at the entrance to his kitchen. "I'll walk with you and show you there's no clown, okay?" I nodded, unable to speak, knowing what I saw.

Sure enough, when we walked into his room, the chair that sat in the corner of his room was empty. "That's impossible."

"That's a chair my grandfather made. I use it in the mornings when I'm getting ready, putting my shoes on and stuff." I assumed he was telling me this to take my mind off the fact that it was empty—no clown. "It's not too comfy," he added, sitting down in it, "but since Granddad made it, I wanted to keep it." I couldn't care less who made the chair, but I didn't say that out loud.

My eyes immediately started scanning his room, which took all of two seconds, but he was right. I was glad there was no clown, however, it made me wonder where the clown I'd seen had gone to... if I actually did see it. Maybe, like everything else lately, I hadn't; not really.

"Can you wait in here while I get ready for bed?" I asked, not wanting him to leave my side.

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"Wait in here while I get ready in the bathroom."

"Oh, sure. I'll wait."

I got my pajamas and toothbrush out of my bag, my hands shaking, and headed to the bathroom. It hurt my shoulder to brush my teeth, but it was a welcomed pain, taking my mind off of other things, but only slightly. You'd have to chop off my entire right arm to get me to completely forget my fear.

Once I was done and walked back into his room, he was waiting for me on his bed, which felt awkward, especially since he looked so—

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, thankfully interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded. "I just want to go to sleep." Even that scared me, knowing what might be waiting for me in my dreams. At least I could wake up from that, though.

"Alrighty, then." He rolled off his bed, pulling the covers back for me. "I'll be right on the other side of that wall if you need me," he reminded me, pointing at the wall beside the bed.

I got into bed, wanting to be covered up before he turned the light out. "The clown," I said, stopping him as he started to walk out. "That's like the things that have been happening. I see things. I hear things. I don't understand what it wants from me."

He was quiet for a few seconds. "We'll figure this out. And just so you know, I believe you." When I nodded, he turned off the light. "Goodnight, Amber."

"Goodnight."

I took a deep breath, scared to death to be alone in the dark, even though Nick was mere steps away. I was more comfortable here than at my house, though—well, I was until I saw that dang clown. Just thinking about it sent a chill down my spine, causing me to pull the blanket up over my head. I laid like that, motionless, unable to breathe under the thickness of the covers, until I finally started to drift off, my tiredness finally returning. It was then that something woke me up.

I was still completely covered up, but my heart was racing again. "Nick?" No answer. "Nick?" I whispered a little louder, but still no answer. I thought he was supposed to be watching me.

I slid the blankets down from my face and glanced toward the door. I could see the outline of the camera from the light that was coming from the kitchen, which was on the other side of the living room, and glow from the IR light on the side of it. If he was watching me, he should see me looking, but he still didn't say anything.

Right before I started to lay my head back down, my pulse starting to slow, I saw something near the bottom of the camera’s tripod. I blinked hard, telling myself I didn't just see something crawl across the floor and into the room with me.

"Nick!"

I covered my face up again, waiting for Nick to come. I was breathing so hard you'd have thought I'd just ran a mile. Then, within seconds, I stopped breathing altogether. That’s when I felt a tap on my foot, but when I looked, thinking it was Nick, I was horrifically mistaken.

"Nick!" I yelled again, picking up my pillow to throw at the clown that was now standing next to the chair, against the wall, smiling at me. I knew a pillow wouldn't cause much damage, but maybe it would give me time to run, at least, but my legs didn't seem to want to work. It's crazy, the power that fear can have over your body.

Having to throw with my left hand, I'd missed, knocking the camera over, instead, which crashed into the wall behind it. Where is Nick? Maybe it had already gotten him.

"Leave me alone!"

Even in the darkness, the clown's face seemed to glow, making sure I saw every frightening detail. I shut my eyes, telling myself it wasn't real, but when I opened them back up, seeing that the clown was now closer, my instincts told me otherwise. Ironically, when it suddenly disappeared at the foot of the bed, I wanted nothing more than to be able to see its face again. I'd rather face it than have it hiding somewhere, probably under my bed, where they always hide, waiting to grab my legs when I got up.

Before I had time to move, the blankets at the foot of my bed raised up and something slid underneath them, sliding toward my feet. I quickly jerked them up, screaming to the top of my lungs, as I jumped out of the bed. I sprinted toward the door, only to run into Nick, knocking him backward into the wall.

"What? What's wrong?" He almost sounded as panicked as I felt. "What is it?" Once I steadied myself, I bolted past him, through the living room, and out the kitchen door. "Amber!" I heard him calling from behind me but never looked back. Once I was outside and slowed down, Nick was by my side. "Tell me what happened."

"Where were you? You were supposed to be watching me!"

"I came out to smoke real quick. I thought you were asleep, so—"

"I was, but something woke me up, and then I saw that clown again, and it tapped my foot, and I thought it was you, but it wasn't. Then it crawled under my blankets." I stopped talking so I could take a breath, which kept catching since I was crying so hard. "I hate clowns. I hate them!" I felt the pizza I'd ate coming up in my throat and thought I was going to puke.

"I'll go back and look at the footage. We should’ve caught it."

"I knocked the camera over, though," I reminded him.

"But maybe it was up long enough to catch something."

I reluctantly walked back inside but stayed with him in the kitchen once he set the camera back up, making sure it still worked. There was no way I was going back in that room. So, even though I was dead tired, I waited while he went back to the beginning of the video, forwarding it to the spot where he went outside.

"I'm sorry, Amber. I thought you were asleep. I won't leave you again, okay?" Once I nodded, knowing he wasn't going to let me out of his sight, now, he pointed at the screen. "See, you fell asleep right here."

We watched for about three or four minutes as I slept, nothing happening. But then I raised my head up and looked at the camera, which I remembered all too well.

"Right here is when I saw something come into the room," I told him, feeling the fear all over again.

We watched, but the angle of the camera didn't capture any movement on the floor. Even when I felt tapping on my foot, you could see me uncover my head and look, but nothing was near my foot to tap it.

"Right there is when I felt something touch my foot. I felt it. Three taps—" I tapped his arm three times "—like that right there."

Then you see me throw the pillow and hear me scream, but that's when I took out the camera, so the only video captured after that was of the ceiling.

"Damn it," he murmured. "Are you sure you weren't still dreaming? Like sleepwalking or something, like you were acting out your dream as if it was real?"

"No. I saw it. I felt it." I couldn't believe what he was saying. "You don't believe me."

"No, I believe you, it's just that maybe you're a bit confused about what was reality and what was a dream."

"Confused?" I shook my head, thinking I should've stayed home. I could've gotten treated like this in the comfort of my own bed.

"Amber, look at it from my perspective—from the perspective of an investigator. We go with the most rational explanation first, then, when there is no rational explanation, that's when we deem it paranormal. I just want to make sure we cover all angles."

"I know, but I'm not some random client; I'm me." It sounded stupid as I said it, but it was true. "I've dealt with the paranormal before and know the difference between reality and imagination, or dreams, or whatever. I've experienced stuff and think I understand the difference. I was not asleep. I was not dreaming. This is what's been happening. Like I'm having a nightmare, whether I'm asleep or awake. I can't get away from it."

From the day we'd left that sanatorium, which wasn't that long ago, but felt like forever, this was my reality. Reality was now a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.