The darkened form a girl thrashed about on a small bed. Her dark green sheets had been twisted around her in her movements, and her pillows were on the floor. This was nothing new for Calintha Johnson, the girl plagued by nightmares. She had been experiencing them for some time now, they began a few weeks after the blonde woke up in a hospital bed (which was strange, because she was dead and all).

No one had been able to explain her situation, or her nightmares which haunted her. Everyone she had talked to about them dismissed them as a side-effect of her trauma. On the upside, her baking skills had improved and her apartment was kept spotless, due to her late night escapades.

Most nights her dreams were much the same. Blood, teeth, and claws dominated. It was blind rage in a black space, blood splatters on black. The glint of teeth and claws in moonlight that somehow managed to shine without a moon in sight.

Tonight, however, her dreams were different. The girls subconscious had such hopes for a dreamless night. It had started out just an empty black; calm and soothing with no sign of trouble. And all of a sudden Fallon was there, standing calmly and staring at her. She looked disheveled, her cinnamon hair and clothing out of place and mussed, like she'd gotten in a fight. Howl followed, stepping out of the darkness, looking in a similar state of dishevelment. Others followed too- Cassius, Yvette, Ignacio, Piper. Other students she remembered from Barren Pines that did not wake up with her- Barney, Evie, Macie. Mr. Gordon followed in the line, his sweater torn to shreds. Her mother and father. Her little sister. Her uncle.

The line of disheveled people stood in front of her like a wall, impassive and malevolent. And they were staring, all of them, 28 eyeballs affixed on the blonde girl. Outside of her dream, Calintha had begun turning about in her sleep- something was wrong.

The scenery changed; it was now a field of blood red roses. The thorns ripped at her skin and her face showering the ground around her with blood that fed the eagerly growing plants. The wall of people still stood, though they were now missing their eyeballs. Thorned vines were growing from their fingertips and hair strands, snaking out to ensnare Calintha in their hungry grasp.

Suddenly 28 large roses surrounded her, slowly opening to reveal centers of eyes, taken from her friends and family. They all blinked in tandem, lovingly caressed by the petals which had stolen them. Calintha recoiled in horror, trying to back away but only finding thorns behind her, which slowly wrapper around her. She clawed at her arms and face attempting to remove the offending spikes but nothing worked.

A voice echoed through the space, which now seemed tiny. "Why can't you care for us Calintha? Why do we always die when you touch us?" The girl started crying, knowing that the voice spoke the truth.

Suddenly the vines were loosing color and decaying, and the eyeless people attached to them were choking violently; dying. She reached for them, but quickly withdrew her fingers. Everything beautiful that she touched died. Everything lovely withered; everything precious shattered into a million shards.

And suddenly the brittle, dead vines dropped her. She was falling through the blackness.

Calintha hit the wood floor with a thud, rolling to her side with a choked scream. Her blanket was wrapped tight around her, just like the vines had been. Cold and alone, the haunted girl shivered on her floor, clutching her arms for warmth as she shook uncontrollably. Slowly her vision faded away, and she was tossed back into the blank empty realm of dreamless sleep, still shaking and lying on her apartment floor. In the morning she woke up stiff and cold, barely able to lift herself up.

The sunlight streaming into the apartment seemed dull and lifeless much like a black and white movie. Without a sound she walked to her bathroom and stared at the mirror. A disheveled image stared back; lifeless brown eyes, deep circles, and mussed hair.

Today was going to be a long day.