I had the same dream. Only this time, the axeman killed me before I could even cross the yard. I woke up with a pain in my neck.

The summer sun shone through the sides of the curtains. I wanted to savor every second of the warm blanket around me. Did I get to? No. Did I try? Not at all.

Mom walked in fully dressed in a denim vest, a T-shirt, and sweatpants. She dropped her hefty toolbox on the floor as her friend peaked into the room.

“I got Dunkin Donuts,” she said. “Ready for your bedpost?”

“I don’t care.” I pulled myself out of bed, standing on a sleeping foot that sent tingling up my leg. “God, I don’t care.”

“What’s wrong with you, today?”

I hobbled downstairs in a black robe. I used to have a matching robe belt, but I had to use Andy’s yellow belt he used to tie Chucky to a soda bottle.

Speaking of Andy.

“I got the croissant one, you got the bagel!” Andy called from the kitchen.

The kitchen was much, much bigger than our old one. We could fit a new table in it. And two windows, allowing the heavenly sunlight to fill the room.

Andy looked at the TV on the stand while sipping on an orange juice. I sat down in one of the cushioned chairs. Andy had unwrapped my sandwich and put the straw in my coffee for me, which was nice. I wanted to smile, but I was too tired.

“Griffin came by a second ago,” he said. “I told him you’d be out in an hour.”

“Thanks.”

“I think he wants to be your friend.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Andy went silent. As much as I wanted to believe him, something told me that wasn’t true. I finished my sandwich and threw my trash away. I ran upstairs to get dressed. Mom and her friend were sitting on my bedroom floor drinking Gatorade, with my bedpost under construction. All of the pieces were still propped against the wall.

“You’re getting dressed?” Mom got up to open one of the windows.

“Griffin’s waiting outside.” I rummaged through two boxes where I threw all my clothes in before the move. I picked out the first pair of jeans I could find. In a box next to it were clothes I didn’t wear before. The first piece on top was a blood red letterman jacket with off-white sleeves. I didn’t remember when I ordered it.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Where are you two headed?” she asked.

“The nature trail in Murderkill.”

“I took you there in Kindergarten, but you started crying, so I stopped taking you.”

“No wonder. I’m gonna get changed.”

“Brush your hair and wash your face, please. And make sure your phone’s charged! Call me when you get there!”

My first shower at the new place was terrible. I didn’t know how to turn the hot water on, and I dropped the soap outside the tub. I dried off and finally got dressed. The mirror seemed to slim everything in front of it. My fingers were thin as straws.

My hair was still stringy and wet when I got out of the bathroom.

I didn’t think the jacket would fit me, but God, was it supposed to be this baggy? It matched my hair, I guess, unlike anything I wore before. I grabbed my phone and ran into the kitchen. My eyes scanned the room.

Should I bring him a snack or something? Think, think, think!

“Blaine, can I help you unpack later?” Andy asked. He started eating through the box of donuts.

“Sure Andy,” I said. “Are there any more donuts?”

He nodded and wrapped two of them in brown napkins and handed them to me. They were warm from sitting in front of the window.

But now it was time to actually talk to Griffin.

I opened the front door very slowly. Nothing exploded or caught on fire.

Griffin sat at the bottom of the steps watching a video on his phone. He ate an ice cream sandwich and washed it down with Sprite. He was in a black tank top and white cargos. It was hot outside; not a good day for a jacket.

“Griffin?” My voice cracked.

“Oh, morning!” He grinned.

“I got you a donut… if you wanted it, you know.”

“Nah, you can have it. I just ate.”

Well, my worrying was pointless. Griffin got up and stretched his legs. “Ready to go? I can show you around Caedispear, too.”

“Too much walking,” I whined. “It’s hot out here.”

It was eleven o’clock, which meant the sun was beaming down on us. This breezy walk quickly became a tedious trudge down a vacant, cracking ghost street. Fences blocked off the vast cornfields on either side of us. Looking back, my house was just a dot in my vision. My legs wanted to fall off. How did Griffin walk along without breaking a sweat?

“We’re here!” he exclaimed.

“Finally,” I muttered. “No offense.”

“You’re okay. My legs hurt a little, too.”

“I need a drink.”

A tunnel of old river birch trees made up the entrance. In fact, for miles and miles on either side of us, was a giant wall of them, identifying the park. Their branches were curled, like bent paper clips and pipe cleaners. Crunchy, dead leaves and straw coated the ground.

Murderkill Park was engraved in a large stone sign. Apparently it’s been around since 1806.

I hadn’t eaten my donuts the entire walk; didn’t know what I was waiting for. I followed Griffin through the tunnel. A dirt path appeared beneath our feet. At least I thought it was a path. There were too many fallen branches and rocks to tell. None of the bright blue sky was visible through the trees, only thin beams of light, and freckled the forest in golden spots.

I leaned on a tree to catch my breath. Griffin leaned next to me. The only part of him I could see was his face because of the dim green light bouncing off of it.

“What school are you from?” Griffin smiled.

“None.” I gulped. “I was homeschooled since 9th grade.”

“Cool! What’s it like? I always wanted to be homeschooled.”

“It’s okay, but now I’m going to Caedispear High. We used to live in Milford.”

“Lucky. I’d do anything to skip out.”

He pushed himself off the tree. “I wanna show you something. Come on.”