"Just drop it, Gwen," her friend said with a sigh.

"I'm telling you! It has to be a message. What if it was the killer? What if he's now on to me?" Gwen rambled.

Her friend, Pauline, shook her head and stepped into the classroom. Sliding in to her seat next to her, Gwen grunted in frustration. Pauline stared at her friend, then sighed yet again.

"Gwen, I think you're seriously overreacting. This whole mystery you're trying to solve is messing with your head. For all we know it could just be a coince-."

Gwen instantly cut her off, "It's not. Okay. It's not a coincidence. I-I know it's not," she said.

Her voice cracked a little, as she remembered last nights' dream. Pauline's eyes softened.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... you know," she tried to console her, then let out a breath.

"Gwen, it's been two years... You've... got to move on. It's not your fault," Pauline whispered.

Gwen did not reply. Instead, she stared hard at her table, fists clenched and trembling under the desk. Their teacher stepped into the classroom and the students fell silent. The lesson began as usual. Gwen hardly paid attention, as the only thought running in her head was the message she received last night.

Who did that? It could not be a prank. No one could enter the house but her. Though she did not remember whether she locked her window. But who would do something like that? She honestly did not know who was messing with her. Her final suggestion had been lingering in her mind.

What if it was the killer? Does that mean she had to stop getting involved with this mystery? Wait, did that prove that there was a conspiracy in the first place? Was she right all long?

She grunted. The message was way too vague. If only the person would send her another. God, was she trying to invite the killer into her house just to get a clue? She shook her head. The only way was to continue pursuing the case.

And find out, eventually.

--------------------------------

"You are guys will graduate next year. So you better start planning your lives. Kids these days, just expect to be spoon fed," Mr Chen mumbled the last bit irritated.

Gwen's grumpy homeroom teacher had some serious issues with today's kids. She swore he never understood the concept of a generation gap. He began handing out forms to the students and explained that they had to fill them up with the future careers they have pursued.

"I think I'm going for fashion designing," Pauline exclaimed.

Gwen rolled her eyes, "You can't draw, nor sew."

She pouted her lips. "Fine. Then what about neurosurgery?"

"Too ambitious..." Gwen mumbled.

She pouted again, "What's the problem of dreaming big. What do you want to do, anyway?"

Gwen shrugged. "I'm torn apart between Psychology or Forensic Science," she said.

Two years ago, if someone had asked her the question, she would have not known the answer. She never felt like thinking about her future or bothering about where her life would go. Her sister, on the other hand, had already got it all planned out and pursued it the moment she graduated. Gwen knew she did all she could to support her. It was not in vain.

After her sister's death, things became clearer. She had to fulfill a career and support herself. She would never rely on someone or burden them. Her sister's depression made her want to go into psychology. And forensic, well, you know how that came about. Either way, her main goal was to let no one suffer as her sister did. She began filling the form.

-----------------------

Sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor, Gwen kept on staring at her pin board. As if a clue would pop out and disappear if she looked away.

"Who are you?" She whispered.

Who would do such a thing? If her theory was true, this serial killer is trying to tell her that finding him would not be a piece of cake? Gwen already knew that. She smirked.

Or maybe not.

She did not want to admit it, but she was not getting anywhere with the whole case. It was getting more and more unpredictable. She could not guess where the killer's next stop would be. And now this. Little did the mysterious murderer knew; he or she just gave her a lead.

If the killer wanted to stop her from finding him or her, it would have been the ultimate proof that the killer existed.

To top it all off, if the killer could send a message to her....

The killer was in the area. The next target would not be far from reach. Will this be the moment she would find tangible evidence?

As if on cue, she heard sirens wailing outside her apartment.