As I laid in my bed, which was all I'd done for the past three days, all I could think about was how pathetic my life was. My one and only true friend moved away two months ago to go to college, leaving me here to fend for myself. I couldn't blame her, though. If I’d been accepted into a top-ranked school, I would've gone, too. Of course, I wasn't, which is why I'm going to the local community college. We probably couldn't have afforded it, anyway.

I tried to hang out with Tanya some, but she had her own set of friends, which I don't seem to be a part of. And Alyssa, from school, has her head so far up her boyfriend's butt that she can't make a move unless he does. That left me pretty much alone, except for Nick, and when I was lucky, Erik, but they both had lives, too... lives that didn't include babysitting a haunted girl.

The way my life has been lately, though, it's probably a good thing I was alone.

The swelling in my face had finally started to go down, so I didn't look like a freak show, at least not as much. When I first looked in a mirror, which was the morning after I fell, I about died. The left side of my face was swollen so bad it was one big lump, my cheekbone undetectable. Mom had also forgotten to mention that I had stitches around my eye, since that bench not only broke my face but also busted it open. I had dark cuts across what I assumed would be my brow and cheekbones, once the swelling went away.

Yeah, it had definitely done a number on me this time.

Aside from the physical, I was pretty damaged inside, too. I tried to deny it, but I couldn't any longer. I couldn't sleep, because when I did she was there. She had awoken a fear in me that I felt no release from, her hold getting tighter and tighter. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, under my bed, in my closet... everywhere. And even though I hadn’t seen her, I knew she was there... waiting.

After lying in my bed for way too long, my muscles getting weak and sore, I decided to venture downstairs, a decision I'd soon regret. "Hey, Kylie."

My sister looked up from the potatoes she was cutting when she heard me. "Well, look who finally decided to get up and join the living."

I got a bowl out of the dishwasher and set it down on the counter in front of her, then grabbed the milk out of the fridge with my good arm and opened the cabinet, pulling out the Cocoa Puffs. "Dang it, Kylie! Why do you put empty boxes back in the cabinet? There's nothing like opening up a big box of disappointment." I threw the empty cereal box into the recycle bin. "Thanks."

"Man, someone's grumpy," she said, her chipperness already getting on my nerves. Maybe I was grumpy.

"Look at my face. I think you'd be a little grumpy, too, if you looked like an alien who’d been in a bar fight."

"Yeah, it does look pretty gross, still." She squinched her nose up at me as she assessed my face.

"Thanks, I know." I sat down in front of her, sulking over my empty cereal bowl.

"Wonder when you'll look normal again?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Please stop talking." Yes, I was grumpy.

"Ouch!" Kylie yelled, grabbing ahold of her finger.

"I did that with my superpowers," I teased, trying to make up for being mean to her. When she moved her hand away from her finger, it was covered in blood. "Lord, Kylie, did you cut your finger off?" I got up and pulled the towel off the handle of the stove and wrapped it around her finger. "You need to rinse it off so we can look at it. You may need stitches."

Her face turned pale. "I don't feel so good."

"Okay, let's go up to the bathroom. We can rinse it off there."

I walked her upstairs and had her rinse her finger, which wouldn't stop bleeding, wondering if I should call Mom, but ended up not having to. "Girls? You home?" Mom yelled from downstairs.

"Of course I'm home," I said under my breath, looking down at Kylie, who had the toilet lid down and was now sitting on it. "Where else would I be, looking like Phantom of the Opera without the mask?"

She smiled. "What does he look like without his mask?"

I pointed at the left side of my face. "Pretty much like this."

"Amber? Kylie?" Mom yelled again.

"Up here!" I wrapped the towel back around Kylie's finger before it dripped on the floor. "Hold this on it tight. Maybe it will stop the bleeding."

"What's going on?" Mom asked as she walked into the bathroom, looking from me to Kylie before seeing her finger. "What happened?"

"I think she may need stitches," I told her.

"You girls." She shook her head. "If it's not one, it's the other. People are going to think we abuse you."

The bathroom was a bit small for all three of us, so I worked my way around Mom and out the door. "I'll finish cutting the potatoes."

"Thanks, Amber," Mom yelled out the door before turning her attention back to Kylie. "Here, let me see how bad it is."

I heard them talking, Kylie yelling out in pain once, while I finished cutting the potatoes for supper. For the first time in what felt like forever, Kylie's mishap almost made me forget about my own horrific situation... until I was abruptly reminded of it.

"One chop, two chop," the eerily familiar voice came from behind me as the knife's blade cut through the potato. I didn't even have time to react before her crusty hand was on mine, pushing the blade down again and again. "Three chop, four...." I tried to stop, pull my hand away, but I couldn't, my hand starting to shake violently, knocking potato slices everywhere, which caused her to laugh, piercing my ears with the shrillness of it. "One after one," she sang, watching the potatoes fall, "they all hit... the... floor."

I was forced to raise the knife into the air, trying my best to fight against it, but I couldn't; it was like trying to fight myself. Even though her hand seemed to merely float over mine, no longer touching me, she was still, somehow, in control of it.

My arm was still shaking, causing pain to erupt in my shoulder as the knife lowered back down toward my left arm, which was now being pulled out and flipped over. When the knife lowered toward my wrist, I knew what she was doing.

"No!" I ignored the pain in my shoulder and fought against the force that was going to try to slit my wrist. "I will not let you do this!"

"Amber? You okay?" I heard Mom call from upstairs, obviously hearing me yelling.

"Yeah!"

Eleanor laughed before singing, "Crazy, crazy... that's what they say."

"You’re the crazy one," I told her, which I immediately realized wasn't a good idea, as I continued to fight to drop the knife.

"As are you," she whispered in my ear, her breath gagging me.

I had no time to comprehend what she'd said before I felt the knife dig into my arm, blood pouring out of the deep gash it made. She didn't stop there, forcing me to pull the knife back and slice myself again. If I couldn't stop her, someone else had to. If not, I was going to die.

"Mom!"

"Mommy!" Eleanor shrieked, mocking me.

"Mom!"

The knife made another gash in my arm, and this time it was too much. I started feeling light-headed at the sight of all the blood, or maybe because all that blood had come out of me, making me weak. Either way, I thought I was going to pass out. Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe she would lose her control over me if I did.

I tried one last time to sling the knife away, to no avail, causing it to cut wildly back and forth through the air like I was having a sword fight with an invisible man and losing. That's when Mom came down the stairs.

"Amber!" She ran toward me, but the knife swung around toward her, stopping her in her tracks. "Amber, put the knife down." She sounded as scared as I felt.

"Oh my—" Kylie's words floated from behind Mom, but were immediately cut off by the shock of what she was seeing.

"Amber, drop the knife," Mom demanded again.

I growled at her right before I started laughing, all Eleanor's doing, not my own. "I can't." As I watched my hand pull the knife up over my head, I was afraid she was going to make me stab at my mom. "No!" I looked at my mom, pleading with her. "Get away!"

"Amber!" Kylie yelled, running toward me, but mom stopped her.

I could only imagine how this looked; how I looked.

As if reading my thoughts, and she probably was, I heard a faint voice singing, "Crazy... crazy...."

"Shut up!" I yelled at the voice only I could hear, without even thinking about how that would look. At this point, though, I doubt it really mattered.

"Kylie, go call 911," my mom said.

"No, don't!" I ordered. "I can explain."

I'm being haunted by a dead lunatic that followed me home from the asylum. She possesses me sometimes, too, which is why I'm waving this knife around and slicing my arm with it.

Yeah, the truth sounded as crazy as I felt. What other choice did I have, though? I'd explained everything else away but knew there was no explaining this away.

"Amber, put the knife down," Mom pleaded softly.

I licked my lips, which suddenly felt really dry, tasting tears I didn't realize I'd shed. "I can't." I tried to drop it, shake it out of my hand, but the more I shook it, the tighter my grip got.

"Kylie, call 911," Mom said again.

"I'm not leaving you,” she replied, holding on to Mom's shirt with a death grip.

"Go!" Mom yelled, which caused Kylie to take off upstairs.

"It's not me," I tried to explain. "It's... it's...." I didn't know what to say or how to explain the truth to her. The truth was more horrific than the scariest of horror films. "Something followed me home from the asylum. It's here now, making me do this." Mom looked around the kitchen like she might actually believe me. "She won't leave." I was crying hysterically at this point.

"Honey, it's okay." She started walking toward me. "Put the knife down."

I was afraid I'd be forced to stab her, so I jumped back, falling against the counter, but still unable to drop the knife, holding it tightly in my hand. "Get away!"

"Honey, I'm not going to hurt you." She obviously didn't understand, since she was still coming toward me.

"I know, but I might hurt you, so go. Get away from me."

She flinched like my words had hurt her. "Amber," she whispered. "Why?"

"I told you, it's not me. It's her. She's making me do this. She's crazy... and dead... and she won't leave me alone." It sounded even worse when I said it out loud. "She's controlling me. She's why I fell, both here and at school. She follows me everywhere." I felt my face contort into an ugly sob. "Please... help me."

Mom was crying hard, too, falling to her knees as she stretched her hand out towards me. "I'll get you help, honey. Whatever it takes, we'll do it."

Suddenly, the knife came up and was flung out of my hand. It went flying across the kitchen, right toward my mom, glancing off her right arm. Luckily, she still had on her jacket, so it didn't cut her. Free of the knife, I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold myself up any longer, my hand sliding out from under me through the puddle of blood on the floor.

I felt my mom by my side and heard Kylie come back down the stairs. "Help’s on the way," Mom said.

"Mom, what's wrong with her?" I heard Kylie ask.

"I don't know," she replied, which led me to believe she didn't believe what I'd told her. I couldn't blame her. I doubt I’d be able to believe something like this, myself, if I wasn’t the one living it.

I heard sirens in the distance and knew they were coming for me. I’d gone my entire life never having to go to the hospital, yet here I was, having to go three times in the span of a month. I wondered how many stitches I’d have to have in my arm. Maybe Kylie could ride with me so she could get some in her finger, too. If I wasn’t crying my eyes out, I’d probably have laughed at the madness of it all.

“Kylie, go outside and flag them down so they know which house it is.” Before she opened the door, Mom told her she needed to call Dad, too.

“Please, don’t,” I whispered, but they ignored me.

Her footsteps faded as she walked out… or maybe it was me. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I was the one who was fading. Maybe I’d lost more blood than I thought. Or maybe Eleanor was finally killing me… keeping me. Either way, I was fading… fading… until I was gone.