I sat on the couch, while Molly rested in my lap. She'd fallen asleep during another episode of Speechless on T.V. She has a cute way of breathing while she sleeps; one long breath in, one short puff out. She stays still in her slumber.

I look up, to find Emma sitting on the stand the television rests on. She's staring at me, murderously.

"Do you talk, Emma?" I ask again. I always get the same answer; nothing. She continues sitting.

"Emma, are you human?" I ask again, somewhat pleading. I would be in an Asylum if I tried telling anyone she wasn't, but . . . what if she isn't? I'd have a creature in my home, living with me, breathing down my neck, for years! What if she's waiting for something? And why does she look so . . . so caught up in vengeance, almost?

"Are you mad at me? Why?" I ask. After about half a minute, she stands, still staring, her eyebrows still set angrily but not crinkled or edging down. She walks to another room, her arms still dangling at her sides. I think she went to my bedroom, but I can't be sure. I just hope I don't find her sitting at my bed foot again tomorrow morning--that was freaky.

I nudge Molly slightly, deciding to wake her so we could go get some food. I haven't had anything to eat all day, and I don't want her to be hungry either.

"Molly. Molly, wake up." I say, and she blinks and stretches.

"W-what?" she demands groggily, sitting up and yawning. She rubs at eye, and then looks to me.

"You wanna get some food?" I ask.

She thinks for a moment, then nods. I stand, but she stops me, "But, is Emma coming?" I look through the hallway, seeing no one in return. I decide to lie again.

I shake my head, "I called a babysitter."

She nods in return, " 'Kay, let's go."

I smile, leading her to the doorway. She takes her jacket, then her arm, "Shall we?" Her accent is hilarious, and we prance down my driveway and down the street, earning a few looks and giggles from strangers and neighbors.

"That's my boy, Dakota!" Mrs. Char, from across the street, yells from her window.

"Hey, Mrs. Char!" I reply, continuing with Molly.

I think I love this girl.

~

I threw my jacket on the couch arm, and pulled off my shoes with my toes, not bothering to unlace the ties. I look around, Emma was nowhere to be seen.

I grabbed my television remote, flicking it on. Immediately, an old Western show starts. I cringe, and flip through the channels until I find a program worth watching.

~

I must've fallen asleep around midnight, considering I'd woken up at around nine. I looked up from my couch, and climb out of the mess of cushions. I stand, catching my balance, and move immediately to the kitchen. I move to the cupboards to grab a bowl, and jump back once they open.

Emma sits, her back extremely hunched, her head still looking forward, staring at me between her legs, her arms bent around them. Now, I've seen some gruesome things from her, but as I inspect her, and the size of the cupboard, she could fit easily. So, what's with the long slash on her arm? She's bleeding.

I stare at it with question and concern, but also fear. "What happened to your arm, Emm-"

She hops out of the cupboard, landing perfectly upright and still in front of me. She looked like a beast, or a spider, something that made me paralyze in fear. I felt a trickle of sweat down my back and wrists. She turned and walked around me, entering the living room, and moving out of my sight behind the wall.

I stay frozen.

~

I decide I want to talk with Molly, hopefully forget Emma and the cupboard, and the long cut down her arm. I pull out my phone as I collapse comfortably on my bed.

Me: Hey Molly
Molly: hi!
Everything okay?
Me: yeah, just a little spooked
Molly: why?
Me: Emma scared me, that's all, and she has a cut and I don't know what it's from so I have mixed feelings
Molly: oh, that's awful, is she okay?
Me: yeah, I think so
Molly: She is a strange girl . . . I wouldn't worry too much
Me: yeah she is, I guess. Can I tell you something, Molly?
Molly: Of course!
Me: Emma is, she's kinda-

My bedroom light shuts off and I feel as if the world has stopped. Everything seems to go silent, and my phone screen dims to black. I feel fear in me, but I don't know why. I just sense I should be afraid.

I was right. I squeeze my phone, and then my sleeves.

"You shouldn't have told her about me, Dakota. I trusted you."