***Taylor’s POV***

                “Taylor!” my mom called as the front door opened. Half stoned, I stumbled down the stairs. “What?” I asked and coughed a few times. Man I needed a cigarette.

                “I saw Gavin at Wal-Mart. He was there with some girl. Does he have a girlfriend?” I shook my head and smiled a little. It was probably Emi.

                Mom caught my smile. “You know her?” I nodded. “Emi. Her name is Emi,” I said. Mom handed me a few bags. “Take those to the kitchen, please.” I carried the bags in the kitchen and walked back. I held the door open for mom as she carried the bags in.

                She shut the door and then let out a little scream. “Oh Taylor! I’m so sorry!” she cried, wrenching the door open, causing her bags to crash to the ground. “What?” I asked, alarmed.

                “Your hand! I slammed your hand in the door!” Sweet. I was stoned enough not to feel it. I would surely feel it tomorrow, but I felt nothing right now.

                She pulled me into the kitchen, ignoring the spilt groceries. “Oh dammit!” she whispered and grabbed an icepack. She pressed it gently to my hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all? It’s not broken?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t feel it,” I said truthfully. “I must’ve slammed the door hard enough to make it numb,” she said. Ha. Bullshit. She didn’t really believe that.

                “Mom, I’m fine,” I said, not knowing if it were true or not. “If it hurts tomorrow, I’ll tell you,” I promised her. “Oh god Taylor. I’m so, so sorry honey,” she said, looking horribly guilty.

                I laughed a little. “Mom, it was an accident. Don’t worry about it,” I said, waving the hand that hadn’t been slammed in the door in dismissal of the subject.

                She picked up the spilt groceries and turned on the oven. “Taylor, I feel awful. Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked me again.”I’ll tell you tomorrow mom,” I promised. “Make sure you let me know, honey,” she said seriously before starting dinner.

                I went upstairs and looked at my bowl. I just liked smoking out of a bowl more than a bong. I didn’t know why. I just did. I wasn’t in this to get fucked up for the hell of it. Anything that got me high enough to make it go away was fine by me.

                I sighed and put it back in my desk drawer. I would come down off my high, pass the fuck out, and wake up knowing if my hand were really hurt or not. I looked down at it and saw it was quickly swelling. I placed the ice pack back on it and shook my head.

                I didn’t why to try to go to school sober again. That had ended in a huge disaster. My mom had had to come pick me up from school and as soon as I got home, I went straight to the weed.

                But…Emi had seemed a bit impressed that I was sober. Maybe I could try one more day of going to school sober. Hell, I could always roll a joint in the bathroom if worst came to worst.

                “Taylor!” my mom called a few minutes later. I went downstairs, still a little fucked up, and into the kitchen. “Look at his hand, Zach. I really think I hurt it,” mom said to my dad as I entered the room. He came over to me. “Let me see, Tay,” he said and I held my hand out to him, removing the ice pack.

                “Oh…that’s not too pretty. It doesn’t hurt?” he asked and I shook my head. “I can’t feel anything. I told mom I’d let her know tomorrow,” I said with a slight shrug.

                “Well, okay Tay. But just make sure you can feel it tomorrow. You know. Don’t take any Tylenol or painkillers or anything. We need to know if it’s broken. It looks really swollen,” he said and I nodded. “Okay dad.”

                We sat down and ate dinner before I went upstairs and passed out. I woke up around 2 in the morning and realized just how in pain my hand was. I got out of bed and went into my parents’ room. I shook my dad. “Dad!” I hissed.

                He sat up slowly. “What Tay? What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily. “I think it’s broken,” I said and ground my teeth together. It hurt so fucking bad.

                Dad crawled out of bed. “Okay, Tay. Let me throw some clothes on quick and I’ll take you. Write your mother a quick note in case she wakes up.” While he put clothes on, I wrote a note with my good hand and left it on my dad’s nightstand before he took me to the ER.

                The doctor told my dad that my hand was just sprained. He put one of those…fuck, what were they called? Whatever. Whatever the shit they put on your hand when it’s sprained, he put that on my hand. Dad took me back home and walked into my room with me.

                “Early morning visits to the ER. You’ll be tired tomorrow, kid. You don’t have to go to school if you don’t want to. I’ll understand.” I shook my head, thinking of Emi. “No. I want to go. I’ll be okay. Sorry I woke you up.”

                “Don’t worry about it, Taylor. It was important. I really hope it feels better. Goodnight son.” His mouth twitched into a small smile before he shut the lights off and left my room.

                In the morning, I felt exhausted, but I forced my lazy ass up and made it to school sober. I trudged back over to Emi and Gavin. That Craig guy wasn’t there, thank god.

                “Hey TayTay. You can talk to Emi for a little. I have to go find Cam and buy a cig off him,” he said with a wink before walking away.

                “Two days in a row. Go Taylor!” she said and I laughed and nodded. “Sober and shit. It works.” I smiled widely and so did she.

                But then it appeared.

                Terror shot through me. It smirked behind Emi and let out a bone chilling laugh. The laugh sounded like the combined shrieks of the tortured. I wanted It to go away. To leave me alone. The let me have happiness for once. Emi was finally starting to like me.

                “Oh she’ll never like you Taylor. She might like you for a little, but she’ll hate you in the end. Just like Ari. Oh how he hated you Taylor. He still hates you. You couldn’t change for him, and you can’t change for Emi. Do you want her to have the same fate as Ari? Look at their names, you waste of space. Emi. Ari. Both hate the substances. You’ll fuck with her, just like you fucked with Ari. So go ahead Taylor. Keep trying to impress her. I dare you. Want to see what she’ll look like if you do?”

                And suddenly, Emi was covered in blood. Her mouth was turned up in a ghastly Chelsea smile, and her eyes were gone. Bleeding sockets remained. Her nose was torn and a bone poked out of her arm.

                I stared in terror. “Taylor?” Her voice was filled with concern. Several teeth were missing. She reached her hand out towards me. It was impossibly burnt and the skin was missing off 3 of her fingers, revealing broken bone underneath.

                “No!” I cried and swallowed back vomit. She instantly stopped reaching for me. The mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear her words. I heard other words.

                “Leave her alone Taylor.” “You’ve done it again Taylor.” “Why do you always hurt people Taylor?” “Look what you’ve done Taylor.” “Fucked up again Taylor.”

                All those different voices. I dropped to my knees and covered my face with my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. I wanted to cover my ears, but that wouldn’t stop the voices. I knew it wouldn’t.

                “Stay away, Taylor,” Its voice hissed. It was right in front of me.

                “Taylor!” The voice was Gavin’s. I could faintly make it out through all the other voices. “Hey, come on. Get up. Let’s go see the nurse,” he said gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to op-

                “You don’t have to open your eyes then,” he said. Was I speak out loud? “You are, you freak,” It hissed in my face. Leave me alone. Why wouldn’t It leave me alone? Dear god; the blood.

                Gavin helped me to my feet and started leading me away. I let him. I wanted to get as far away from It as possible. I could still hear Its sanity destroying laugh as I walked away.