It's only in my head

Have you ever had something happen to you that was so strange, so surreal, you wondered if it had actually happened or you had just dreamed it? At the time, did you doubt your own sanity, thinking you must be crazy, imagining things, hallucinating? Were you afraid to tell anyone afterward for fear they would not believe you? I know about this all too well...

It all began the year I started 11th grade. This was the year of the impossible classes- I was given classes with no practical purpose other than to give you hours of homework, stress, and back pain from the 10 pound college text books piled in my bookbag. Such lovely, interesting courses as US History, Anatomy, Precalculus were bad enough in their own rights, but in my school, it was especially bad. Apparently all my teachers had gathered together over the summer and held contests to see who could assign the most abundant, hard, and dull work. Maybe the winner got a raise or something.

Anyway, with all the work given to me, I had to time to do anything except study after school. All the activities I had enjoyed over the summer- watching TV, hanging out with friends, dancing, reading- went out the window. Very much against my will, I lived and breathed academics. I hated not being able to do anything I enjoyed, but one activity above all others I missed. I have always loved to write since I was a little kid- stories, poems, screenplays, it didn't matter- and every day over the summer, I had tried to write something. I'd written numerous short stories and worked on three novels. Now with all the work dumped on me, the only thing I had time to write was the history of the English government.

At first I tried to make time to write. I woke up earlier than I had to, but at that time of the day, it's hard enough to keep your eyes open, let alone think coherently enough to string a sentence together more complicated than " Need... coffee..."

So then I tried staying up much later than usual to write. But after a day of cramming facts and figures into my head and scribbling them down, both my mind and hand were too tired to be imaginative. And weekends- forget it. When I wasn't doing weekend homework, I was sleeping.

So gradually, I let more and more time pass before I had written a single sentence of a story of my own volition. I stopped trying to make time to write, letting my mind gradually forget the plots and characters I had once obsessed over. My stories sat buried in a stack under my bed, gathering dust balls, not read by anyone or added to by me. AS time went by, I began to lose the urge to write, to share my work, to become a published author. I told myself I wouldn't have been very good anyway. I wouldn't have got published. Days, then weeks, passed where I didn't even think about my stories...

One night, perhaps 6 or 7 months since I'd started school, after a frustrating night of studying, I finally gave up and crawled to bed, looking forward to a refreshing, long sleep before I had to go to school. I didn't quite get what I'd hoped for. As I slept, I had the strangest dream....

**********************************************************

In my dream, I was asleep in my bed. I woke up and after opening my eyes, discovered to my shock I was surrounded by people! People of all shapes, sizes, ages, and genders were crowded around my bed, staring at me. As if that weren't disconcerting enough, I realized as I stared back uncomprehendingly that each face looked eeiriely familar. As though I'd seen them before. And yet I knew I had never seen any of these people in my life...

Suddenly it dawned on me why they all looked so familar. I had seen them before- not in person of course- nor had I ever spoken to them- but I had definitely seen each and every one of these people before- inside my head! Each of the people standing in my room looked exactly like a character I had written about in one of my stories!

I could only stare, my eyes moving side to side rapidly, my mouth open. I couldn't speak. There was no way this is happening, I thought in my dream. These people aren't real! I invented them! IF on the off chance they are real, it's just a coincidence. No way are they really who they look like.

As my eyes scanned the people, still staring at me with varying expressions on their faces, my disbelief and rising panic grew. I saw a small, anxious looking blonde little girl around 5, holding the hand of a serious boy around 10. That would be Johnny and little Olivia, I thought wildy. That teen with black hair and that nosy look on her face- Nicole Anderson. I wrote about her when I was nine... That greasy haired girl looks like Jada Corde... that ridiculous looking boy with the cape has to be Super Marcus...

It couldn't be real- it couldn't be, I remember thinking.

" It's happening," said Sydney Prescott/Neve Campbell. I had written a fan fic on her when I was 14... " Well, sort of..."

" Sort of? What do you mean, sort of?" Summer Garrison snorted. " It's happening."

" Cual? Cual?" asked the guy who looked suspiciously like Antonio.

" Shut up, bonehead!" snapped Drew Malcolm.

" Everyone shut up," said the one who looked like Phoebe Halliwell/ Alyssa Milano. " Can't you see you're scaring her?"

" Let me take over,'" said a dark-haired man in his forties- Dr. Paul Conrad. He leaned close to me, peering intently into my eyes- as he had done to Elizabeth Roberts, I thought wildly. He looks at his patients like that....

" Jinx, you don't have to be afraid," he said in a kind, gentle tone. " None of us want to hurt you. Not even the monster under Carly's bed, or the Loft Thing. That's the last thing we want... Even Savannah and Abby wish you no harm."

My heart froze as in the dream, I heard his words. If this wasn't real... how did he know about the Loft Thing, about Savannah and Abby? I'd invented them- I'd written about Savannah and Abby, both murderesses, when I was in the third grade! And yet I suddenly noticed them both, six year old Abby's hair tied in pigtails.

" We only want to make sure that WE survive, that WE live on through you and your writing," Dr. Conrad continued.

" What are you talking about?" I croaked. " Who are you people? What are you doing here? What do you want from me?"

" Who are ve?" scoffed an arabic looking woman in a turban- Madame Zeldina the gypsy hit woman, no doubt. " Vy are you ask a seely kvestion like zat? You know who ve are. Vy you deny it?"

" NO, I don't!" I said, my voice rising. " I don't know who you are and what you want or what you're doing here! Please, go away and leave me alone!"

" You want to know who we are," an attractive woman who looked disconcertingly like Dr. Daphne Wendell said. " You created us."

I shook my head, trying to block out their faces, their words, their existence. Couldn't anyone in my family hear them? How had they gotten inside?

" We won't hurt you, Jinx," Dr. Conrad assured me.

" Then what do you want? Generally people don't break into people's bedrooms for no reason," I snapped.

" What do we want? We want you to write, Jinx. Do you realize how long it's been since you've written? You haven't written anything new or added anything to old stories. You haven't thought of new ideas. You haven't even read any of your old stories! You shoved us under your bed. You forgot us. And if you forget us- the whole world forgets us! WE only exist if you keep us alive in your mind, if you spread us around, share us. If you don't do that, if ou don't make us real to you and everyone else, we aren't real. We're forgotten. WE don't want to be forgotten, Jinx. We don't want to fade away until we no longer exist."

" But... but you're NOT real!'" I sputtered. " I made you up! You don't exist!"

" Wanna bet?" snarled a dark, seductive young man- Gabriel, the cannibal. " I bet I could change your mind..."

He lunged at me menacingly, mouth open wide as though to take a bite of me. I shrieked and flailed in bed. Before he could reach me, Ray, Jackson, Charles, Leo Wyatt, and Dewey Riley had grabbed him and pinned his arms. Gabriel gnashed his teeth at them.

" No, Gabriel!" the exotic looking woman at his side hissed- Letitia, his equally cannibalistic wife. " You fool! You think she'll want to save us if you devour her!?"

" Sorry about that," Ray said apologetically. " It's been a while since he's eaten... he's pretty angry at you."

" He's right in a way," Nurse Angela siad genlty. " You know deep down we are real. It's obvious."

" Its a matter of choosing," Daphne told me. " Let us live... or let us die. You gave us life, Jinx. Don't kill us off. Write! Write new stories, finish old ones! Make them better! Make us better! Post stories on the internet, read them to friends- share us! Spread us around so more people know about us, so we become real to them too! If you keep it up, you can get some of us published- then we'll be real to everyone, forever! Don't let us die, Jinx!"

I couldn't take take much more of this. IT was too much. It was crazy...

" Please go away," I moaned. " I'll do whatever."

" Ok, we'll leave you alone," Dr. Conrad said reluctantly. " But don't forget. Write. If you don't... we'll take more drastic measures."

Before my eyes, the whole crew slowly began to disappear, seemingly evaporating before my eyes. I stared as they gradually faded away, then disappeared completely...

BRINNNNG!1

My body jerked as the shrill sound of my alarm clock awakened me in a hurry. My eyes flew open, and I bolted up in bed, gasping. My heart was pounding, and cold, clammy sweat stuck my oversized Hard Rock Cafe T shirt to my skin. For once, I didn't want to throw my clock across the room for waking me. I was actually rather grateful to it- I was glad to escape that crazy dream. It had been so strange- creepy! It had been such an obviously unrealistic dream- of course characters from stories couldn't come alive!- but on the other hand, it HAD been very realistic. I had actually reacted in the dream as I would if that had occurred when I was awake. I had even been asleep in the dream and woken up! Yes, that had been a weird dream- very unsettling. Even though I was awake now, the memory of it still disturbed me. Good thing it didn't really happen, I thought. Good thing it was just a dream...2

Now that I thought about it, the characters had a point. It HAD been a long time since I'd written anything. Could it really have been as much as 6 months? I thought about it and realized with faint shock that was quite possible.3

Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something, I thought uneasily. Maybe I should try to write again.4

But then my glance slid to my backpack, currently weighing 42 pounds, sitting by my bed, and I abandoned that idea. I just didn't have the time or energy to write. Besides, it was just a dream, it hadn't meant anything, after all...5

I slid out of bed and got dressed, beginning to get ready for school. By the time I sat down for breakfast I had already put my dream entirely out of my mind.6

****************************************************************7

Two weeks passed, and I forgot about the dream. It just didn't seem like a big deal compared to all the things I needed to do. I didn't remember it, and I certainly didn't obey it. I was much more concerned with real people in the real world doing real things than those so called "people."8

I should have remembered my dream. I should have listened while I had the chance...9

One day I came home from school, hunched over so I could practically touch my toes from the weight of my book bag, and as usual, headed straight to my room, anxious to throw down my bag and stretch out flat on the floor, relaxing before starting my mountain of homework. As I reached the door to my room and turned the knob, I saw right away that today I'd have to make a change of plans. Someone- well, two someone’s, had seen to that.10

There were two teenaged girls in my room, lying on the floor before my bed. As if that wasn't a big enough shock, what the girls were doing was enough to stop you in your tracks. The dark-haired, older girl was holding the blondish, very thin one in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. The smaller girl had on no shirt, only jeans and a bra, and she was so skinny I could clearly see her ribs. But the horrifying little detail was the cuts covering her torso, angry, deep, and seeping blood.11

My eyes bulged, and I let my backpack slide to the floor with a resounding crash. I barely heard it. AS the older girl's eyes fixed on mine, I knew without a doubt who the girls were... who they had to be.12

They were Hallie and Jenna Roswell, characters I'd invented. And this scene unraveling before me was exactly like a scene in Dangerous Discovery....13

I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Though the rest of me was sluggish, delayed, my mind raced ahead, millions of frantic thoughts forming. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be real. I was not seeing this. I was not. It was not real because Hallie and Jenna weren't real, I was just tired, I was seeing things. When I looked again they'd be gone.14

I dragged my eyes away from the girls to look down quickly at the floor, then back up. They were still there. Hallie- no, I thought desperately, not Hallie, she is NOT Hallie, she only looks like Hallie- had her eyes rolled back in her head, close to fainting. Her sister was glaring at me, tears still coursing down her cheeks.15

" I can't believe it," I said in a loud, slightly hysterical voice. " They're still here. Why? Why am I imagining this? I must be crazy!"16

" Is that all you care about?" yelled Jenna. (No, she only looks like Jenna!)17

" You only care about you, how you feel! What about Hallie!? She's dying, Jinx! She tried to kill herself! Are you letting her do this again? Why don't you help her!?"18

I closed my eyes, my hands at my temples, trying to block out the images of that poor, skinny girl and her blood, still flowing so swiftly...19

" This isn't happening," I croaked. " It's isn't. I am not crazy. I am not crazy, I am not seeing this. I'm not."20

" The hell you aren't seeing it!" Jenna shrieked. I felt a wild, irrational stab of fear that my brother or mom would hear her and come running. " You see it! You made it happen- you have to see it! Make it stop, Jinx! Make her okay!"21

" NO!" I cried. " I can't! I can't do what you want! I don’t' know who you are or what you want! What are you talking about, you' aren't real!"22

" Liar!" Jenna- try as I might, I knew she was Jenna- yelled. '' Don't tell me you don't know who we are! Don't say you can't see us, that we aren't here! You know what we want, Jinx! You knew for two weeks, but you wouldn't do it! We told you to write- but you wouldn't! We told you to keep us alive, to control us, but you wouldn't! We have to break free, to try to make a last chance of existing, controlling for ourselves what happens to us, until you take back your responsibility! Now look what happened! Look what you did because you wouldn't control what happens to Hallie! She tried to kill herself again! Are you happy? Are you? Stop her- only you can!'23

I didn't know what to do. I had never felt so many conflicting emotions in my life. Confusion, terror, pity, guilt, panic- I was torn into pieces. I didn't have a clue what to say, what to believe. Was I crazy, or was this just a crazy situation? I didn't know.24

" I'll get my mom," I said finally. ' She'll know what to do. I'll call 911.'' I turned to leave, but Jenna called me back.25

" no! No, you can't!'26

" Why?" I asked, puzzled. " You want me to help her... how else do you expect me to? I'm not a doctor! If you are really real, she needs a doctor!"27

" We are real," Jenna said fiercely. " But not to everyone. If you go to your mom she won't see us. They don't know we're real. Only people who have read about us or wrote about us know. We're only real to those who have been exposed to us! If a person doesn't know about us, has never read out story, they can't see us because we don't exist to them! Going to your mom isn't going to help Hallie! only you can help her!"28

I stared at her, my mind reeling. She couldn't be right. It had to be wrong, it had to be not really happening... and yet in a horrible, bizarre way, what she was saying made sense. If what they had said in my dream was true- if it had been an actual warning and not a dream- it made sense...29

Had it been a dream? Had it really happened- had I really been awake the whole time? Had I really been visited by characters I'd invented?30

" How?" I said in a croaky voice. " How do I save her?"31

" Write!" Jenna screamed, sobbing now as she rocked her sister in her arms. " Write, write, write! Write about us! Make her better, help her! Make her whole and happy again! get back the control you gave up! We don't want it, take it back!"32

Then suddenly she was jumping to her feet, Hallie tumbling off her lap to the floor. She lunged toward me, her hand outstretched, her eyes wild.33

" come on, Jinx!" she shrieked. " Help us! Help us!"34


I screamed, startled and terrified at her sudden, violent actions. As she continued toward me, I didn't think. I acted purely on instinct, doing the first thing that popped into my head- fleeing. Running to my doorway, I raced out the door and down the hallway, desperate to get away. My mind was in such a panic I could only think of getting away from the situation. It was too much for me- too weird, to crazy, too threatening. I didn't even bother to check if Jenna was following me. 1

However, even in my panicked state, I had to stop and stare in unbelief at what I saw in the living room. With our TV blasting cartoons, minus an audience, in the background, a little girl, blonde with her hair in braids, was sitting in front of our coffee table. The disturbing part was she was hacking at it with a knife, a gleeful expression on her face. Seeing me staring at her, temporarily frozen, she laughed. This was Faith Ensley, the five year old uncontrollable child from Enchanted....2

I made a moaning noise in my throat and ran into our kitchen. I wasn't planning to go anywhere or do anything specific, just wanting to get away, to be anywhere where life wasn't going crazy. I stopped, sagging in relief when I saw my mother was in there, wiping up the counters.3

" Mom!" I blurted, thrilled to see a familiar face that I had not dreamed up myself, that I knew for sure was real. But my relief was short-lived. My body tensed, and I noticed the scene taking place behind her. Letitia and Gabriel, the cannibal couple, were at the stove. Letitia was stirring a big pot of what looked like human body parts. Gabriel grinned, hugging her from behind and giving her a kiss. I watched in horror, unable to tear my eyes away from the disturbing sight. I felt nauseous, disgusted, and shocked; it filled my chest so I felt ill. How could this be happening...4

My mom frowned, seemingly oblivious to Gabriel and Letitia's gruesome doings.5

" Jinx, I've told you not to run in the house. You'll fall and break something. " she said. Seeing the look on my face, she said in a slightly less lecturing tone, " What's the matter? Are you sick?"6

" Yeah, Jinx, what's the matter?" Letitia sneered, still enfolded in Gabriel's arms. '" Not hungry?"7

I couldn't answer either of them; shock had stolen my voice. Turning, I ran out of the kitchen into the living room. I didn't pause as I passed Faith, still hacking at our coffee table, and out the door. It wasn't until I reached the large pine tree in our backyard that I slowed, catching my breath for a minute. Almost automatically I began to climb it, the many close branches making it an easy feat. My brothers and I used to climb it all the time when we were little, especially if we wanted to hide or just be alone a while. The thick needles make it hard to be noticed by a casual observer.8

When I was half way up it, I stopped and simply sat, trying to make sense of everything had had occurred. The way I saw it, there were two options to explain it- neither appealing. Either I had gone nuts and hallucinated everything, or the people from my dream had really, truly come alive- to those who knew about them, of course. Both options were very far fetched, but one had to be true.9

It would make a lot more e sense if I were crazy- it would explain everything all right. I definitely FELT like I was losing it. But then again, who wouldn't in my situation? Besides, I think I read somewhere that crazy people never doubt their sanity- that if you wonder whether you're crazy, you're okay. Since I'm wondering, I must be sane, I reasoned. Then again, what if I'm the exception to the rule?10

Let's assume I'm not crazy- that the characters really are alive. That means something absolutely strange and frightening is happening to me...11

What was I going to do? How could I make them go away? How was I going to hide that I was seeing them? Everyone would think I was crazy, even if I'm not! I very well may be.12

They want me to write, I thought. Jenna, and Dr. Conrad, and Angela, and all of them- they want me to write again, and then they might go away. But I can't! I'm so busy- I'm gong to fail my test tomorrow because I've wasted so much time. Even if I did have time, I don't think I'd be able to! It's been so long, I wouldn't know what to do. I'd have no clue where to start, I have no ideas! 13

I shook my head. Maybe, I thought hopefully, if I just ignore them they'll go away. Maybe they'll die out eventually. Fade away, like they said... maybe in a while, they'll leave...14

But even as I thought it, the pessimistic yet realistic part of me was scoffing. Right, I sincerely doubt this little issue will be solved that easily....15


I was right. For the rest of the day, not more than 30-45 minutes passed without one of my characters popping up unexpectedly and scaring me to death. No matter how many times I saw them, I just couldn't get used to it. And I couldn't ignore it- couldn't tell myself to keep going. They made sure of that...1

As soon as I felt brave enough to come out of my tree and start heading toward my house, I was instantly attacked by yet another character- this one Lisa Dunton, a rather silly, over-the-top, cheap reporter in a parody I'd written. She bounded out from behind a shrub- how long she'd been there watching me, I had no clue. Almost tripping from the combination of short skirt and tall heels, she managed to catch herself and shoved a microphone under my startled, terrified face. I was caught completely off guard.2

" This is Lisa Dunton reporting live from Jinx Deaver's backyard!" she said in a high-pitched, rapid, and hyper voice. " Jinx, how do you feel about us appearing to you in your world?"3

I just blinked at her stupidly, backing away as fast as I could. That didn't deter her; she sped right after me until she had me backed up against a tall bush. I looked around desperately for an escape, but there was none. I was trapped.4

" Yo! Benny!" she yelled over her shoulder, her mouth- and the rest of her- way too close to my ear for comfort. " Where are you, you big oaf? Get over here with the camera!"5

From behind another shrub, Benny, Lisa's clumsy, rather stupid cameraman stumbled over, tripping over his own feet and almost dropping the camera. His gut flopped as he ran.6

" Sorry, Lisa- I wasn't paying attention!"7

" Don't care, just move! So Jinx, how do you feel? Huh? Are you going to write? Are you going to write about me? Leave Amberly out of it if you are- she ruins the whole story! Hey, leave Benny out of it too, get me a new camera man, preferably a sexy one. Who can walk without tripping. Who will fall in love with me and do exactly as I command. You got that, Jinx? What do you say?" she demanded, the microphone practically touching my nose.8

I certainly had plenty to say to that- but words failed me for a moment. Shock tends to do that to you. Finally I managed to speak.9

" No I'm not writing about you! I wrote about you when I was 11! You're not even a real character- I based you on a girl at my school! Amberly too! I even named you after her! Leave me alone- I put up with you enough at school!"10

Lisa seemed quite put out at that. She scowled.11

" You're not writing about me? Why not? Who are you writing about then? Who are you picking over me? Benny?" she said suspiciously. Benny perked up. " You're not writing about Amberly, are you? Nooo! You can't write about that little b----, she murdered me! She ran over me in her car- on purpose! Which I meant to ask you about. Why'd you let her do that! I was a much better reporter. But at least I got to be a ghost! Oh boy did I have fun haunting her! Hee hee! So who are you writing about?" she asked all in one breath. I stared at her, very, very much wanting to escape. How had I let myself get cornered by a character who shouldn't even exist- one of the most annoying ones, no less? This was proof I was not imagining this- why would I want to subject myself to so much torture?12

" I'm not writing about anyone!" I blurted out. " I'm not writing anything! So leave me alone- you can go now!"13

Lisa gasped. A look of outrage came over her face. Benny looked close to tears, his fat lip quivering.14

" You mean you're going to let us die?!" she hollered. " Why you little- I'm going to kill you!"15

For a split second I was afraid, but then I remembered this was Lisa we were talking about. Firstly, she was prone to violence but usually couldn't pull it off because of her own clumsiness. Secondly, she had never actually killed any of the numerous people she threatened to. Thirdly, she was stupid and easily distracted.16

" Oh look, there's Amberly!" I said, pointing over her shoulder. " She's spying on you!"17

" what?" Lisa shrieked, spinning around, as did Benny. I took the opportunity to shove her aside and sprint wildly for my house. By the time I took a chance to look over my shoulder, they had disappeared. I didn't slow down, however- I didn't want to run into someone else. 18

As luck would have it, that was not to happen. About two feet from my front door I collided into a thin, blonde girl 11 or 12 years, who was just exiting my house. She had a look on her face of both anxiety and defensiveness. I could tell just by her attitude more than her looks she was Jasmine Ying, a foster child both worldly and very naive and uneducated. She jumped and cringed instinctively upon bumping me. Jasmine was used to the pain of beatings and neglect and had come to expect it. Seeing that I was only a kid like her, she immediately took back her standoffish demeanor.19

" What are you staring at?" she demanded. " I have a right to be leaving if I want to! No one can keep me here!"20

I held up my hand and backed away. Still staring at her, not believing that I had just touched her, smacked into her, felt her sharp little elbow digging into my side. I rubbed it, wincing. Yep, it hurt- I hadn't imagined any of this. I would have a bruise tomorrow to prove it.21

" I'm not trying to keep you here," I assured her fervently. " Trust me! I want you to go! You want to go, be my guest! And tell all your buddies to leave too!"22

She looked at me suspiciously, to see if I was sincere. " You ain't gonna tell Mrs. Rogers?"23

" No," I said uncertainly. Mrs. Rogers was her foster mom. Was she inside my house? I wondered. I dreaded going back inside- who would be in there now?24

" Ok," Jasmine said. " You better not." Eying me for a moment, she began to walk away, her ratty knapsack over her thin shoulders. She had only gone a few steps when she stopped and turned around. Her face looked different- softer, uncertain. More vulnerable. As if she were eight rather than almost twelve. 25

" Do you know where the nearest train station is?" she asked. " I'm going to Heaven. That's where my dad is- I'm going to live with him."26

I shook my head wordlessly. I knew her little daydream would be shattered soon enough- I had written it, after all, so very long ago. Jasmine nodded, her face resigned.27

" Ok, then, I can find it myself." And with that, she resumed trudging across the yard. I watched her a few minutes, then turned and opened the front door to my house.28

My brother, Grey, was in the living room of our house, watching TV. He was apparently completely oblivious to the girl slumped beside him on the couch. She was dressed in black, baggy clothes and had dyed black hair and a completely blank expression on her face. But the part that should have made him notice her was she was probing hard at the faded scars on her wrists with a toothpick, trying to make them bleed? This was Autumn Garrison, a suicidal self-harmer.1

Autumn didn't look up or in any way acknowledge my presence. Grey saw me staring at the spot beside him and mistook my expression to be meant for him.2

" What are you looking at, wooie?" he said in a rude tone. (Don't even get me started on his list of stupid nicknames for me.)3

" Nothing," I said, shaking my head. If I could get away with acting like I didn't see Autumn, I'd certainly try to do so...4

I practically ran upstairs to my room, praying it would be free of imaginary people, that I'd have a few minutes to recover from my nerve-wracking day. When I opened my door and cautiously peeked inside, I saw to my vast relief there was indeed no one there.5

" Yes," I hissed, elated. " Finally!"6

But this was not to last. No sooner had I shut the door and flopped down on my bed, a teenaged girl appeared before my mirror. She was tall and curvy, though in her oversized punk clothes you'd never be able to tell. She had blue streaks dyed into her black hair and Goth makeup on her face. Like Autumn, she didn't acknowledge me but merely stared in agony at her reflection in the mirror. This was Jackson, or Jax, as her sister Cordelia had called her.7

" No," she moaned, a look of fear on her pale face. " No, I'm not seeing this! It's not real! I can't be seeing this!"8

My feelings exactly, I thought, not without irony. Jackson continued to moan before the mirror, hands gripping her hair.9

" No! Stop saying my name! You're not really here, you can't be! You're dead! YOU'RE DEAD, I KILLED YOU!" Jackson shrieked. My heart jumped. She was so loud! I couldn't believe no one was hearing her. I had to shut her up for my own sanity.10

" Uh, Jackson?" I said tentatively, from my distant post on my bed. She ignored me, not seeming to hear.11

" Noo," she moaned, rocking side to side. Her face screwed up. " NO!"12

" Hey, Jax!" I said more sharply. " Stop it! You're right, she's not there! She IS dead! Cordelia's dead, you're hallucinating. So suck it up and be quiet, okay?"13

That did absolutely nothing. I gritted my teeth, not knowing what to do. I knew what came next, she was going to slit her throat. But what was I supposed to do? Try to stop her? Was that even possible? Were they ever technically actually real, with blood and everything, real blood, or were they only seeming to be real- ghosts of a sort? Could I stop her? Was the story able to be changed, or did she have to die because that's how I wrote it? I didn't know....14

I was saved from a decision by my mother's voice calling me. " Jinx... Grey! Time for dinner!"15

Hallelujah! I thought, jumping up. I only gave Jackson a guilty glance before bolting down the hall to the kitchen. My parents and brother were at the stove, spooning food onto their plates. I helped myself and was just sitting down when I realized someone else was already in my seat. A tiny, thin girl with long dark hair and a look of horror on her face. This was Irene Varrick. I looked around frantically, not knowing what to do. She was in my seat- how was I supposed to eat? I couldn't sit on her- and yet what else could I do? And how was I supposed to carry on a meal in front of my family and pretend I didn’t see her? For I knew exactly what she was going to do... I remembered Irene's climatic scene at the dinner table all too well.16

I quickly did the only thing I could think of- sat in Grey's chair. I knew it would make him gripe at me, but at least I wouldn't sit on Irene. He couldn't see her- let him sit on her! I was interested to see how she'd deal with that. 17

She didn't, as it turned out. After Grey fussed at me, she stood up before he could plop down, striding with furious energy to thin air right beside me- way too close for comfort. Ignoring me, she began to yell at the air- I guess where she envisioned Lola, her other personality.18

" HOW DO YOU DO IT, LOLA? HOW DO YOU KEEP COMING BACK?!" she shrieked. I slumped down in my seat, cringing. How was I going to sit through a meal of this? I prayed she wouldn't speak to me directly.19

Fat chance. She turned to me almost as soon as she was finished with Lola, madness and rage on her face.20

" Tell them, Jinx!" she yelled. " Tell them Lola is not imaginary! Tell them all she did to me! YOU know- tell them!"21

I tried to ignore her glare. I ate rapidly, shoving food in my mouth in an attempt to distract myself. If my family noticed the funny look on my face and my speed eating, they didn't comment. Irene kept it up.22

" Talk, Lola! Why so silent? Why are you doing this to me?" she shrieked.23

" Why don't you tell them, Jinx! Why do you keep bringing her back? You let her ruin her life! I hate you as much as I hate her!"24

Well that really alarmed me because Irene had murdered her sister- 3 times! Even though it was only in her mind, it was the thought that counted. I stuffed the rest of my food in my mouth and jumped up, putting my plate in my sink. My mom looked up at me in astonishment.25

" You're done already?"26

" Yep, gotta go," I said, rushing out the room and down the hall with Irene's screams still echoing. I raced into my room and locked it, relieved.27

" That was close," I said, my shoulders slumped. Too close. I couldn't keep going like this. It was dangerous, physically and mentally. I had to find a way to stop this...

That wasn't to happen this night. For the rest of the evening, people kept showing up randomly. Some lectured me on writing, some carried out scenes from their story, and some ignored me completely. I preferred the latter- it was easier to pretend they didn't exist. Still, each time they appeared shocked me. You'd think I'd get used to it, but no...1

Even when I tried to go to bed- practically none of my homework done- I was still interrupted. No sooner had I laid down then I heard a low, eerie voice chanting in the darkness.2

" Come to me, oh lord, oh god. Possess my body, become one with my soul. Take over me... Amon Re."3

My body tensed in both exasperation and fear. I knew who this was- Leslie, the half crazy 11 year old who was possessed by an Egyptian sun god. She had forced her stepsister Courtney to marry him... she was delusional and dangerous. I knew I didn't want her here. Next thing she'd be digging through my stuff, to use as voo doo...4

I sat up quickly, switching on my beside lamp. Leslie's face was instantly in view. She had been standing right beside my bed, my brush in her hand. She'd been picking my hair out of it!5

" Leslie!" I hissed, not wanting to wake my family. " What are you doing?"6

Stupid question- I knew it, and the look on her face told me so. She smirked.7

" Gathering ingredients for a potion. Amon Re desires your hair," she said flatly.8

I shook my head, flabbergasted. What do you say to a comment like that?9

" Get out! Let me sleep!"10

" I'm not stopping you. In fact, I'd prefer if you slept. It makes my job easier."11

I jumped out of bed and grabbing her arm, propelled her toward the door. Leslie allowed me to move her with the same blank expression on her face. I shoved her out and locked the door quickly. But I could still hear her from the other side.12

" You think that solves anything? I can go through closed doors. We all can. You should know that, Jinx... I'll be back."13

I didn't hear from her the rest of the night, but that didn't comfort me. I couldn't sleep after that, paranoid she or someone else would come. I lay in bed, unmoving, praying I'd be left alone.14

They didn't. Not long after I locked Leslie out, I heard rumbling under my bed. Then an ominous chuckle sounded, and a raspy voice spoke.15

" Jiinnnxxx..."16

I almost stopped breathing. I lay still in the center of my bed, hoping my ears had deceived me. 17

" Jiinnnxx.."18

I had definitely heard correctly. I shivered, pulling my covers up to my chin and clutching them tightly. There was only one thing that would be speaking to me from under the bed, and that was The Monster under Carly's Bed. Only now it was under mine...19

" Go away," I whispered, my voice a squeak. The monster roared with booming laughter at that, making my bed shake violently. I squealed, grabbing the bed frame to keep from being tumbled to the floor. I knew what would happen if I did. He had eaten Carly's mother, Laurel... there was nothing to stop him from eating me. My heart pounded at the thought.20

" Go away? But Jinx, I just got here. What a bad hostess you arrrre," he slurred. " Besides, I am hungrrrry..."21

I frantically tried to come up with a course of action, away to be rid of him, as I'd rid myself of Leslie. This would be a good trick, if not impossible. It was different with Leslie. She was a little girl- a scary, possessed one, but still a child that I could manhandle physically. I couldn't do that with the monster. I couldn't even go near him, if I didn't want to be literally dead meat.22

The monster, slow witted as he was, seemed to know this and chuckled gratingly.23

" You can't escape... you're miiine, Jinx," he hissed.24

Suddenly I felt the blankets that I had so tightly wrapped around me, as if they'd really protect me, being tugged at by a strong force. I barely managed to choke back a scream as I realized it was the monster- and if I didn't do something, he'd have me under the bed...25


Suddenly the lamp beside my bed turned on, and there was a pretty, strong looking woman standing beside my bed, her hands on her hips as she glared angrily underneath my bed. Where did she come from, I thought wildly, was she going to help kill me? Then I realized there was no longer anything pulling at my covers, and when I managed to gather courage to peek cautiously over my bed, the monster had retreated under my bed. My heart still thudding in my chest, I dared to look back at the woman. She was Ivy from Not Her, I realized, and she wasn't going to hurt me.1

" What are you doing?" she hissed indignantly toward the general direction of under my bed. " We aren't supposed to harm her! What the hell were you thinking? If you eat her, we all die, including you, idiot! You KNOW that!"2

" I wasssn't going to eat her," the monster whined. Had the circumstances been different, I would have found it amusing that a monster was appealing to a seemingly helpless woman. " I just wanted to scarrre herrr..."3

" It looked like a lot more than that to me!" she said, not fooled for a second. " I'm not stupid! You better learn some control or you can't appear to her anymore!"4

" I'll do what I want to," the monster sulked.5

" If you want to commit suicide, go ahead!" Ivy snapped.6

" Perrhaps I will eat you instead!" he growled. Ivy to my amazement, just laughed.7

" Right, sure. And how will you do that?" she asked sarcastically.8

I didn't quite get her logic there, but this seemed to stump him. " Go awayyy," he griped.9

" No, I don’t' think so. I'm staying until I know you're not eating her," she said. And she just stood there, staring at my bed. The seconds passed, neither of them speaking. I stared at Ivy, disbelieving and respectful of her brazenness. Finally the monster growled, " Whateverrr... I will be back. You just wait... it's just a matter of time."10

As soon as he had come, he was gone. I sensed it though I couldn't see to be sure. Ivy looked at me finally, flashing a quick, hurried smile. 11

" Sorry about that. He got a little out of hand. None of us will hurt you. We just want you to start writing. That's the only way to make us happy, you know."12

" I've heard," I muttered. " But it's 2 am! Do you really expect me to write a masterpiece now? Can't you just tell everyone to leave me alone so I can sleep?"13

Ivy shrugged. " I can try, but they won't listen. Just think about it. It's for your own good." And suddenly she too was gone.14

I lay back in bed, trying to go to sleep, but I knew it was no use. There was no way I'd be able to sleep after a girl had tried to hex me and a monster had tried to eat me! It was not going to happen.15

Coming to a decision, I jumped out of bed and padded to my door, turning the knob and stepping into the hallway. I was going to sleep in our guest room- maybe my characters wouldn't think to look there.16

Tiptoeing quietly down the hall, I reached the door to our guest room and opened it, flicking on the light switch. But to my dismay, I saw someone else was already occupying the bed I'd been so desperately wanting. Kennedy Rune, a sociopath that should be institutionalized, was strapped to the bed by her wrists and ankles, the blankets gone to reveal her body in a shapeless hospital gown. Her icy blue eyes were hooded and scary, but when she saw me, they warmed slightly. Her head raised, and she grinned. Her grin reminded me of a cross between the Mad Hatter and a cheerleader.17

" Hey writer-girl,'' she said cheerfully. " You don't look too excited to see me."18

She looked as bad as I'd pictured her, only in person it was shocking. Her gaunt body was barely making an outline in the gown, and her skin was drawn tightly over her skull. Her eyes were pink and bloodshot, sunken. Her dirty hair was unbrushed and hung down past her shoulders messily. And that smile, that horrible, Jack Nicholson smile...19

Kennedy chuckled, as she regarded me with amusement. " I take it your inability to speak and deer in headlights expression means yes. Are you afraid of me Jinx? I don't see why. I'm strapped in bed, I'm not coming at you with a knife. Even if I could, you could fight me off. I weigh the same as you and I' m five or six inches taller."20

She laughed again, sending chills down my spine. " It's so damn hilarious how everyone is so afraid of me. Ooh, big bad Kennedy, she is such a bad girl. Tie her up, lock her away, keep her away from us, from the good people. Well I'll tell you this, there are no good people. We're all the same. Only I'm the only one willing to admit it..."21

She paused, as if waiting for me to respond, but she was right. I was frozen out of fear of her. I knew how dangerous she could be, how seductive, how she could sink you right in and ruin you...22

" Look at you. You're shaking. You created me, you know more about me than anyone, and you're still afraid! Do you want me to go away, Jinx? Am I too much for you? Well we can arrange that. All you have to do is untie me, and I’m gone."23

I knew better than to do that. There was no way I was letting her go. And yet as I stared into her mad blue eyes, I found myself rethinking that, wondering if I should let her go, so I could have the bed. I wanted to sleep so badly...24

NO! I told myself in alarm. Get out of here, now!25

As my hand fumbled for the door, I heard Kennedy's laughter from behind me. 26

" Guess I'll see you soon, writer-girl!"27

I quickly pulled the door shut, striding down the hall, trying to get the image of Kennedy out of my mind. I stopped at our bathroom door and went inside, closing it and locking it and sitting on the toilet seat. I was still shaking.2

Why, I thought helplessly, couldn't I just go to sleep, like a normal kid, and not be visited by people no one else could see? Why did I have to stumble upon monsters, and possessed and insane people?!1

Why did I write about so many weird, scary people? I thought furiously. Why couldn't I have written about kittens and butterflies or something?! I wouldn't mind if a gang of butterflies followed me around.2

Sighing heavily, eyelids drooping from exhaustion, I looked around the bathroom. No one was there- yet. Maybe even my characters weren't rude enough to barge in on me in the bathroom. 3

With that in mind, I climbed into the bathtub and pulling the curtain closed, curled up on the tub's floor. Eventually I was able to drift into a light, uneasy sleep.4

**************************************************************5

It was a long, miserable night. The bathtub is a very uncomfortable place to sleep, and I never slept more than an hour at a time. I kept waking up- not entirely because of the discomfort either. I kept hearing running water from the sink faucet. At first I tried to ignore it, but after a while it was so insistent I sat up groggily, peeking through the side of the shower curtain. A skinny, nervous man in many layers of clothes was washing his hands, scrubbing so hard they were red and raw. This had to be Wesley, an obsessive compulsive germaphobe. I didn't even try to make him leave; I just sunk back into the tub and stuck my fingers in my ears, eyes screwed shut.6

By the time morning came, Wesley was gone, but I was exhausted. I'd gotten less than 3 hours of sleep. My eyes slits, my head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, I clambered clumsily out of the tub and tried to stumble to the mirror. However, someone was in the way. A black haired woman was sitting on my toilet, sobbing spastically as she lowered a razor to the inside of her arm. This was Melissa from Not her, and she was trying to cut herself.7

That woke me up pretty fast. My drugged feeling disappearing, I hurried to her, grabbing her arm and snatching the razor from her hand. She looked up at me blearily, sobs shaking her body. I threw the razor into the tub and sat by her, locking my hands around her wrists so she couldn't move. Melissa didn't fight me- she only slumped limply, blood running from the fresh cut on her arm.8

" Don't do that!" I yelled, my panic and fear coming out as anger. " Don'9

t ever hurt yourself like that! I mean it, Melissa!"10

She didn't answer but only continued weeping, tears coursing down her cheeks. Her face was so full of despair it was painful to witness.11

" I'm sorry," I said in a lower tone. " Don’t cry, okay? I didn't mean to yell. I'll fix you up in a second." Letting go of her, I rooted around our cabinets for peroxide, keeping an eye on her. She didn't move- all the energy seemed sapped out of her.12

Suddenly there was someone knocking on the bathroom door. I groaned. Great, someone wanted in- and here I was, with a person bleeding and crying in here! How was I supposed to let him in?13

" Just a second!" I yelled, hunting frantically for the peroxide.14

" Let me in, Jinx!" yelled my brother Grey. " I gotta pee!" More beating ensued. I opened the last drawer and finally found the peroxide, pouring some on a towel and pressing it to her wound. Melissa didn't flinch or make any sounds of pain; I guess with all the cutting she does she's used to it.15

" Hurry up!" hollered Grey, the door practically splintering under his knocks. I looked around hopelessly. Where was I supposed to put Melissa? Then it dawned on me- he couldn't see her. Duh! It didn’t' matter if he came in. If she witnessed him using the bathroom that was her own fault, she should leave.16

Grabbing the razor from the tub to hide, I opened the door. Grey shoved past me rudely. Sure enough, I didn't see Melissa for the rest of the day....
The next few days were nerve-wracking, stressful, surreal, and completely crazy. Almost everywhere I went I could expect to see at least one of my characters, no matter if I was in the public or alone. The worst thing was most wanted to talk to me- even if I was surrounded by people! It was so hard not to let on I saw them. Occasionally I slipped, and people gave me strange looks, thinking I was talking to myself. Which I was, essentially. It got to the point where I saw people from my stories so often I wondered if real people I met were also my characters. I began to examine strangers very closely, making sure they were indeed people, before allowing myself to acknowledge them. I was very wary- and tired. I had been barely sleeping at all. Between Leslie, the monsters, and Kennedy, as well as any others popping in, it was impossible. Two more characters were now regularly terrorizing me nightly as well. Piper Halliwell, who I had written a fan fic on, had nightmares almost nightly and screamed so loudly she kept me up. Especially when her sisters barged in and turned the lights on... Even sleeping in the bathroom didn't stop anyone. Eleanor Vance, another character I'd written a fan fic on, had murdered four friends while they were sleeping. So far I'd been lucky, and she had not visited me, but I was terrified she would. It didn't make sleep come easy to think of her...1

During the day, when I saw them constantly, I was always alert, waiting for the next to arrive. And boy did they....2

At Baskin Robbins with my family one day, I saw Shannen and her mentally retarded sister, Melanie, waiting in line beside us. Seeing the long haired boy in front of us, knowing what was coming, I hurried to the bathroom and hid for a while...3

One day while in the library, I saw that it was not our regular librarian at the check out desk but an old man with a creepy smile; Mr. Linden, the evil librarian from the Harris Burdick picture called Mr. Linden's library. As I stared, he held out the evil book he had given Erika Winchester, only now it was entitled, "The tragic ending of Miss Deaver..."4

I hated to go for walks now, where I'd once walked by dogs every day. I almost always saw a character now. One trip, I saw five in a row! First, I noticed a couple arguing fiercely on the street. I paid no attention to them, assuming they were real, until they came closer and I saw they were Nina and Steven, Jackson's parents. They began to scream at me simultaneously, asking why I had taken both their daughters' from them- Jackson by suicide, Cordelia from mysterious causes. I didn't let them know what had happened to Cordelia- I had to run to escape them.5

I had only just lost them when I saw two girls about twelve in front of a lawn, twins. This wasn't unusual, but the fact that one was levitating the other in the air was. They were Tenley and Caley Addis, evil twins from Enchanted... and right over their heads was a ridiculous looking man in spandex, soaring over the sky, fist raised. Definitely Super Marcus...6

At school one day, I arrived early to class and sat down, getting out my books and stuff. When I looked up, I realized it was not my teacher at the desk but Dr. Drew Malcolm, her stilettos propped up comfortably.7

" Hey Jinx," she said cheerfully, yawning. " School's a drag, huh? Good thing you have me to make your day more interesting."8

One of my classmates came in , so I pretended Drew wasn't there. She is not a person who takes well to being ignored. She cleared her throat loudly.9

" uh hello? You, girl with the frizzy hair! I'm talking to you- so listen! Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to ignore people in authority! Jeez!"10

" Leave me alone," I whispered. Drew heard me and rolled her eyes.11

" Please! Drop the poor pitiful me act, it's not flattering. What, you worried what others will say?" she said mockingly as I shot panicked glances at the kids coming in. " You're afraid they'll say you're crazy. What a hoot! None of my patients ever care- and they babble constantly."12

The rest of that class was a test of endurance. I didn't learn a thing...13

There were several incidents in my room and home, of course. I often caught Eva Florian and Alicia, two severe anorexics, exercising feverishly, and many more times than I was comfortable with I saw Kenneth and Jessica peeking into my windows. One time I went to pull the light switch which is a dangling chain, and screamed, for a rubber monster hand was at the end of it. I had thought it was real. A little prank of Kylie's, the insufferable, often mean spirited practical joker from He comes in the dark of the night. She appeared behind me and laughed herself silly.14

You're probably wondering how with all these people tormenting me, why I didn't just give in and write a story to get them off my back. IT would be easy- it would solve my problem because after that they'd go away. It was the logical thing to do- but for some reason I couldn't. AS much as I wanted them to go away, I also did not want to sit down and write. It was like I had a mental block- I could not think. Every time I picked up a pen, my mind went stupid. I had a phobia of sorts, a fear of writing- as if whatever I wrote would not be good enough to make up for going so long without writing. Somewhere I had a vague, nasty suspicion that even if I did write, they would not go away, that I'd somehow give them even more life and freedom- or find out I was really crazy, they really were only in my head. 15

so as much as I wanted to start writing, I was more afraid to start...16


One day, everything I'd been enduring came to a head, and all hell broke loose. I woke up and began to get ready for school, only to find Brenda Rawlings from Road to Nowhere sprawled on my floor, eyes half shut, bruises on her face and arms, lips crusted with blood. Brenda was the wife of an abusive alcoholic, Jack, so this isn't an uncommon situation for her. However, I had to stop and get her sitting up, check her over to make sure she wasn't dying or anything. I still wasn't sure if my characters were closer to being human or ghost, so I had no idea if it was okay for them to die or not, or what would happen if they did. After tending to her and giving her a lecture, both to leave her husband and to leave me alone, I was running late. If I didn't hurry, I would miss my bus. I had been doing that a lot lately, since my characters started stalking me. It didn't make my mom happy to have to drive me either. 1

I had just sat down to eat breakfast when I heard the sound of my bus pulling up. Jumping up and slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I raced out the door and down the driveway. My brother was "sick" today, so I didn't bother calling for him. I reached the bus a few moments later, panting a little. The door slid open for me, and I climbed the stairs into the bus, as usual, walking past the bus driver without paying attention. I stopped in the aisle between the first two seats, noticing with a start they were not occupied by the usual people, but Mary Youth and Emma from Mary. Mary was talking Emma's ear off, as usual, and seeing me, she smiled cheerfully.2

" Hello, Jinx! It's good to finally meet you! You don't look at all like a Jinx. Your name doesn't really fit you, does it? But that's okay, I don't look like a Mary either! I meant to ask, why'd you give me a boring name like Mary anyway? It's rather blasphemous to give someone like me the name of the Virgin Mother. I'm nothing like her. Emma here, she's so good she could have been a Mary, and you named her Emma!"3

" Oh, Mary," Emma protested, blushing.4

I barely even heard her babbling. I was too busy looking at the seat across from them. For Ann, Mary's adopted sister, was sitting there with Faye Slater. I quickly looked past the first two seats and saw that in the next two seats sat Adrianna, Jada Corde, and Lydia, Doral, and Chrissy, 3 foster sisters. In the seats past them sat Riley Holmes and Wesley from Psycho Psychiatry, and McKenziBeth and Abby. In fact, I saw to my growing horror, every single seat in the bus was taken by two or three of my characters. None of the kids from my bus were there- not one! Somehow, all of my classmates had disappeared, and my characters had taken their place!5

" Hey, doofus, start the bus," snapped someone nearby impatiently. Turning, I saw it was Gale Weathers from my Scream fan fic, a look of irritation on her face. Sitting beside her was Shana Feller, her rival reporter and attempted assassinator, and across the aisle was Sydney and the gypsy hit woman Zeldina.6

" Oh yeah!" said a dim-witted sounding voice from the front. I turned slowly, knowing with dread what I would soon be seeing but praying it was not so. Sure enough, it was not my regular bus driver sitting at the wheel- it was Benny, Lisa's camera man. As I watched in disbelief, he started up the engine. The doors to the bus closed, and he began to drive away. I was trapped inside!7

I began to panic. How had this happened? Where were all my classmates, my driver? What had they done to them? I walked quickly down the aisle, searching in desperation for someone who was not one of my characters, knowing as I did it was hopeless. No one in the whole bus was an actual person- and they were taking me away where no one would be able to find me , or know where I was!8

I hurried up the front, shoving past everyone in a wild attempt to go up front. I had to get out of the bus- I couldn't stay in there with all of them! Who knew what they'd do to me?9

They were all watching me now, some laughing, some whispering, some speaking to me. I didn't respond to any of them, just kept going blindly. When I broke through the front of the bus, I shoved at the sliding door, but it would not open for me. Grunting, I began to pull at the lever, trying with panic to open it. No success. The whole time everyone watched me in vain trying to get out, amused. I gave up and stood there, terrified. Why wouldn't it open? What was I going to do?10

" Let me out!'' I cried. " Open the door!"11

" Uh, I can't," Benny said.12

" What," I said, spinning around to glare at him. " You can too! You closed it, now you open it!"13

" I really can't," Benny repeated, his face intimidated. " It won't open unless you do what we want."14

I couldn't believe this. " What? What do you mean, until I do what you want? Just open it!" I shouted, throwing my hands in the air. Benny looked afraid. His voice shook as he replied, " I told you, I can't!"15

" He really can't, he's not just being retarded," Gale piped up.16

" Why?" I shrieked, losing it. " Why? Why won't you let me go? How'd you do it in the first place? How did you take over my bus? What did you to my classmates, the driver? Where are you taking me? What do you people want from me?!"17

" Calm down," said Lydia, rolling her eyes. " The longer you freak out, the longer you will be here."18

" Calm down?! How am I supposed to calm down?!" I hollered. " I don't know what you want from me or what you'll do!"19

" Well now I guess you know how we felt when you stuck us in a loft with a monster, huh?" Phoenix snapped.20


" Stop it, Phoenix," Connor said gently. " That won't solve anything now." Turning to me, he said, " We didn't take over your bus, Jinx. don't worry. The people on the bus are okay, we didn't even see them. You see, this isn't your bus. It's not a real bus. It's kind of like us- real to you, but not to others."1

I stared at him, barely comprehending what he was talking about. They had conjured up a ghost bus to take me somewhere? Why? Why would they do that? Did they want to punish me, or make me imaginary like them? Were they going to keep me here the rest of my life, so no one knew where I was?2

" Why would you do this to me?" I asked shakily. " Why won't you let me go?"3

" You know why," Connor said. " We've been telling you for weeks."4

" What?! You have not! You haven't said anything except to write, and that can't be why!" I said.5

" Actually it is," said Aidan, Brenda's brother in law, in his deep voice. " We are getting tired of waiting, Jinx. We want you to write. We've been patient until now, but-"6

" Patient?!" I cried in disbelief. " I've had one of you pop in to bug me every five minutes!"7

" We've been patient," Aidan continued as though he hadn't heard me. " But you still continue to not write. We have explained out situation to you- you know if you don't we'll die. You have been told we won't let that happen- and we wont. So we took drastic measures. We've taken you onto this bus, and you're not getting off until you write."8

I stared at him, dread and distress filling me so I could barely think. How do you react to a situation like this?9

" NO!" I said. " You can't do this. You can't just kidnap me, you're not even real! You let me off now!"10

" We can't," Ann said dreamily. " Not until you write."11

" I won't!" I said furiously, eyes darting around the bus. " I wont! You can't make me!"12

" Well, not to be mean or anything, but you'll be here a while then," Cordelia said softly.13

" Yeah, really," Summer Garrison snorted. " You'll change your mind, in less than an hour I bet."14

" Sit down, but don't count on us letting you get comfortable,';' said Maat, a tiny Egyptian goddess perched on the window. That reminded me... windows. Maybe I could escape out one.15

I lunged at the nearest window. They watched placidly as I struggled to pull it open- but it wouldn't budge. I inspected the midsection for a latch, but it was gone. There wasn't a way to open it. I turned to Mary and Emma's window and messed with it, but it wouldn't move either.16

Straightening, I moved down a row and attacked its windows, hoping that by a miracle or enough wishing it would open for me. But they didn't. I continued down the aisles, checking each window, more upset the more I couldn't open. As I made my way down the aisle, I saw each character up close, and each in their own way attempted to make contact with me...17

Jack, Brenda's husband, was passed out across a seat, drool dribbling out his mouth. His eight year old daughter, Sasha, was slumped beside him, eyes wide and scared. She whispered as I drew near,'' Why is he always like this, Jinx? why can't be be like other dads?"18

Nearby, McKenziBeth and Abby, child murderers, huddled over a large, black book they had on their laps, heads bowed, whispering ominously. They shot me a dark glance as I passed, which did nothing for my state of mind. Great, now little girls are casting death spells on me! I thought as I hurriedly checked their window.19

In two particularly disturbing seats, 15 year old Caryn Dunmore held her badly wounded, catatonic six year old sister, Natalie, in her lap, rocking her as tears streamed down her cheeks. She swore at me as I passed, berating me for sending Michael Andrews into her life. In the seat across from her was a rather similar scene: Jackson, a man, not the girl who saw her sister in my mirror, was holding the dead bodies of his seven year old daughter Talia and his wife Lenore, weeping bitterly. I saw the discoloration on Lenore's face and remembered with a shudder how he had strangled her.20

Another seat was occupied by Adrianna, a prostituted teen, and Nikki, a psychotic who had mutilated her own face. Nikki was talking animatedly to Cammie, a spoiled, bratty 11 year old foster child, who had a look of terror and disgust on her face. Hearing the word " Amy", I knew Nikki was talking about how her twin sister haunted her. 21

Nicholas, a murdering man in a Santa suit, sat with 4 year old Eve, who he had abducted, on his lap, whispering as she giggled happily. They shared a seat with Michael Andrews, who looked at little Eve with sick lust in his eyes. Behind them, Riley Holmes's eyes darted nervously as he plucked a barrette out of Eve's hair and shoved it in his pocket. Quentin Dresdon and Phoenix sat beside him, and Connor and Leandra across. The seat behind them was empty, but I got a horrible, scary feeling as I passed it. From the terrified glances they shot at the space, I had a feeling it was occupied by the never before seen Loft Thing- whoever or whatever it was....22

" How do you feel being terrified and stuck in something you don't understand or know how to escape?" yelled Quentin. " Pretty mad, huh? Pretty freaked? Not so quick to judge me now, huh? Well how would you feel if we killed you like you killed us?"23

Across the aisle sat Noah and Leah Donahue, and they quickly joined in at screaming at me as I scratched at their windows in panic.24

" How could you just stop writing about us in the middle of our story?" Leah shrieked. " How could you just leave us forever in an alternate world, with no escape?! You didn't even let us know what was going on- you just abandoned us!"25

" How could you make me telekinetic!?" Noah yelled simultaneously. " why would you curse me like that? You've ruined my life, as well as everyone elses!"26

" Look!" said my parody Cinderella, " I can too fit in our ancestor Queen Rosalyn's dress!"27

" Help me!" shrieked Gale Weathers as Shana Feller's hands tightened around her throat. " She'll kill me!" Dewey pulled at Shana's hands desperately, and across the aisle, Zeldina had her hands around Sydney's neck.28

There was no way I was getting myself out of this mess. I hurried to the next window, where Kennedy Rune was whispering intently to a wide eyed, tense Elizabeth Roberts, who was soaking up every word. Kennedy smiled slowly and gave me a rather chilling wink as I passed. Demon Prue was also whispering to a hypnotized looking Piper Halliwell.29

Everywhere I looked, characters were screaming for my attention- either literally, or their actions were disturbing enough to give me alarm. They screamed my name, firing questions at me. Some even grabbed me, to my dismay. I stumbled my way down the aisle, yelping and cringing as they ambushed me, shoving them away, prying hands off me, but the attacks didn't stop. Throughout my ordeal, I looked for a way to escape- an unlocked window, a fire door, anything- to no avail . 30

I felt half crazed, they were crowding me so tightly and were all so loud and suffocating. My heart beat fast as a hummingbirds, and my head throbbed. Their voices kept getting louder and louder, and closer and closer, closing in on me, suffocating me....

And the whole time, a little voice in my head was badgering me every bit as much as they were. Do it, Jinx, it whispered. Just do what they want and they'll leave you alone. Just give in, let them have what they want, just DO IT!1

At last I couldn't take it any longer. My solid determination and fear not to write gave way under the tremendous pressure being placed upon me, and I made a decision that changed everything.2

" All right!" I shrieked, throwing up my hands in surrender and shaking Wesley's gloved, timid hand off my arm, as well as the clutching hand s of Cinderella, Kristina, and Jada. " All right! I give up! You win! Does everyone hear me- you win! I'll write, okay! I'll do whatever you want, whatever you tell me to, if you just let me out of here! I'll do anything if you leave me for good!"3

I was almost crying from all my conflicting emotions meshing. All my characters stopped suddenly in their mad pursuits of me, not drawing closer. An excited buzz rose up among them as they talked excitedly.4

" Did you hear that?"5

" She's going to write!"6

" We did it, we won!"7

" She gave in!"8

" She's going to write!"9

" Knew it!" smirked Summer, grinning at me. " I knew you're too wimpy to withstand us. It's been ten minutes!"10

" I'm proud of you, Jinx. You made the right choice," Angela said softly.11

A whole slew of people nodded in agreement. Then suddenly I heard someone clapping loudly and whistling. Pretty soon everyone joined in, one by one, until the whole bus was applauding me noisily, even the evil, depressed, or crying characters. Yells of encouragement surrounded me. My head pounded with the insanity of it all. One minute they're attacking me, and the next they're cheering! I stood there numbly, watching, wondering what would come next.12

When the clapping died down, I turned to Jenny from The Sleepwalker, who was closest to me.13

" Aren't you going to let me go now?" I asked. She looked startled.14

" Oh, no! Not until you write!" she said, as if I'd asked something silly.15

" What?" I asked, flabbergasted. " You want me to write here, on the train! I don't have pen or paper!"16

" Please, is that all you're worried about?" Phoebe scoffed. " That's easy enough to rectify." Going to stand by her sisters, they recited, " By the powers of darkness and the powers of light, let there appear to Jinx what she needs to write." I jumped, thunderstruck, as a pen and spiral notebook appeared in my lap. I slowly picked them up, my dread and fear of writing returning. I had no excuses now, no way to delay- I was going to have to write.17

" I don't know how to start," I said helplessly.18

" Just write down the first thing that pops into your head," Rebecca, Jenna's friend, said. 19

" You can write about me," Kylie suggested.20

" No, me!" said her cousin Casey.21

'' Well seeing as how you stopped in the middle of my story, you should write about me," Leah declared.22

" She didn't finish mine either- and I'm pregnant and on the way to Egypt with my boyfriend!" Princess Theo growled.23

A commotion arose again, with everyone yelling for me to write about them and telling me exactly how to do it. I couldn't hear myself think, let alone about a story.24

" Please, stop it!" I yelled, my head in my hands. " I can't write anything with all you doing this!"25

" We're trying to help," Shane Dunmore said, looking offended. " You said you had no ideas..."26

The bus grew silent, and they all sat without speaking and watched me instead. This was unsettling, almost as bad as when they'd been yelling. 27

Trying to avoid their stares, I quickly looked down at the notebook in my lap, opening it and numbering the page. I sat, gripping the pen in my hand, grappling desperately for an idea.28

Rebecca said to write down whatever pops into my head, I thought. But all I could think was " I don't want to be here. I just want to go home. I just want them to go away..."29

So I wrote those words down, just to have something. And suddenly, magically, something clicked in my head. I had a sudden image of a teen girl, in a dimly lit room, backed against a wall, terrified as three men towered over her. The image intrigued me. Who was the girl, and who were the men? How had they come to be in this room? Where was the room? What was going on?30

With that in my mind, I began to scribble away, partly notes, partly lines to add, my rough draft. Before long I'd filled three pages. I was so caught up in my idea I didn't notice for a while that I hadn't heard anything from anyone. I glanced up quickly, and saw with a start that all my characters were fading away, disintegrating into the air. I looked at my feet and saw I was too... I opened my mouth to scream, but it was disappearing...31

My eyes widened, and my body twitched spastically as I reappeared, in my normal form. I held my hands and arms up before my face shakily, flexing my fingers, wiggling my toes, making sure I was okay, that I was solid again. As I was doing so, I discovered I was lying on my bed in my room. I looked around slowly, not sure if I was really home, really okay, really off that bus.1

It took a few minutes for me to assure myself all was well. Once I had, I was still very confused. What exactly had happened? Had I really been on the bus? Had I really been transported back home somehow? If so, how? Were they really going to leave me alone now- or had they ever been here in the first place? Had they ever existed?2

I glanced over at my clock and saw it was 6 pm. How had that happened? Had I skipped a whole day of school- or had I gone back in time? Or ahead to the future? I had no idea- nor was I sure I wanted to know. 3

It was then I noticed the spiral notebook lying beside me- the same one from the bus. I eyed it warily, not sure if I wanted to have anything to do with it. After all, they had given it to me- or so I think, anyway...4

Eventually my curiosity got the best of me, and I picked it up and opened. it. My messy, boyish handwriting covered several of the pages. I began to read what I'd written. After only a few lines, I grew interested. This is a good idea, I thought, however I got it. Maybe if I just fix a few things I can make a long story out of it...5

I began to write, the words first slow in coming, then coming faster and faster until I couldn't make my hand move as fast as my ideas came. Soon I'd forgotten about my earlier worries and lost myself in the story I was creating....6

**********************************************87

It’s been over three weeks since my little bus trip, and a lot has changed since. For one thing, I no longer see my characters- at least not face to face. That is a huge relief to me, of course- though some of them I'd kind of gotten used to. None of them ever drop in to scare me to death anymore- but they have no reason to now. I write constantly now- poems, as well as stories. I manage to make time ever day, no matter how busy I am, to scribble something. I've also gone back and revised and added old stories.8

Now that everything is back to normal, I wondered at first if any of my experiences had actually happened. Your exact recollection of things fades with the absence of them occurring, so my certainty over their reality wavered as I ceased to see them daily. Sometimes I can almost even convince myself nothing happened- but then I'll have a funny dream with one or all of my characters speaking to me.... and the other day, I found a bloody toothpick between the couch cushions- Autumn's. There are marks on our coffee table that look suspiciously like those of a knife. And when cleaning under my bed, I discovered a smelly stain that I think could possibly be monster drool....9

It's occurrences like this that keep me determined to never again stop writing, for fear that one day I'll wake up to all my characters gathered around me once more... this time for good...10

THE END