Fright jolted Arlo like a shock wave. It shocked her all the way out of her bed and onto the floor in a tangle of sheets.

Her horrid dream turned and twisted her so recklessly that it went far enough to toss her out of her slumber induced trance with forceful aggression.

She blinked away sleep in rapid response. Her heart was running away from her; perspiration soaked her clothing as if she had taken a dive in the deep end; her bed sheets tangled about her legs like a boa—it took the poor girl a minute too long to realize that reality had pulled her back and only then did her lungs stop stifling her airways and her heart deceased its beats.

Her stupid flight or fight reflexes kicked in all at once and made for an uncomfortable awakening. She heaved a sigh and slumped back against her bed. "Only a dream," she muttered, "only a dream." a hand ran back through thick black curls and her face twisted in disgust at the images of her dream.

*She stumbled upon the dead body of Owen Klum laid dead on the floor of the Blackwell forest, his body covered in blood. The thickness of the air only served to strengthen the stench of the blood that was scattered on the dark soil, the tree trunks, her shoes, and Cillian.*

*His pale cheeks were stained with it as he smoked a cigarette. He grinned—hands covered in blood—clothing stained as he stalked towards her.*

*He had a knife in one hand, and a smirk on his red lips. She couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her, she couldn't. He couldn't have done it. He said he wasn't that kind of person—. "But you don't even know me," Cillian said as if he could hear her thoughts. "You know what they say is true." he laughed, his laughter was bitter. It prickled her skin with fear as she watched him advancing on her. "I'm a killer Arlo... and you know it. My void face is my disguise... and your pretty little face will be the next one splattered all over the news... and my knife."*

*She kept backing up, and he kept moving towards her. "Come on Arlo, come give me a kiss." he bubbled over in laughter, he was as dark as the night and as he wiped a tear from his eye. He stood straight then took a long drag from his cigarette and blew it out in the air as he watched it curl in the darkness of the woods. "Wow, this is funny. A—are you afraid... of me?" he chuckled. "I thought you liked my hands on you... and my mouth..." he smirked again, "I thought I excited you, and now you're running away. Come here pretty girl." he charged towards her, she ducked quickly and began to run in the opposite direction. She took off for the pitch blackness of the forest, running from him, trying to get away from what became of the guy who ran her heart rapid.*

Arlo fought away the covers at her feet and stood up in a fright. "Fück." she runs her fingers through her hair as she groaned at the bullshit. "Fück it! Fück!" tears prickled her eyes and she saw blurry.

She scrambled to her feet and moved towards her laptop. She had to find out about this case.

She turned on her laptop and tapped her foot while it came on. She typed in her password and quickly opened her browser once she was in. Her fingers flew across the keys of the laptop as she searched, *"The Bick Woods missing person's case: Owen Klum"*. A plethora of news articles, blogs, vlogs and YouTube channels and a heap of conspiracy theories about Cillian and of this case came up. She was afraid to read it, but she had the ease the pain she was feeling in the pit of her stomach. She clicked on the article by Kerry Anders, a local journalist, one known for her persistent nature and no-quit attitude.

The title of the article screamed at her. Posted with bold thick font and enlarged to fit the entirety of the top of the page.

# "MURDERER IN BICK MILLS: THE BICK WOODS MURDERER SET FREE!"

Arlo's stomach twisted as she begun to read the harsh criticizing words of the article. Kerry seemed to have a grudge against Cillian or his family because her tone sounded spiteful.

Three photos of Cillian leaving the station after they let him go were clearer than that from the new reporters on the news. She was shocked by how close the photos seem and then she read the rest of the article.

### "Cillian Anthony, allegedly accused of murdering his own best friend Owen Klum, whose body has yet to be found. The promise suspect of the case and only person linked towards his disappearance Cillian Anthony was set free due to lack of evidence and poor police investigation. My deductions have pointed to him and only him as being The Bick Woods Murderer. The law might fail us, but justice shall see the light."

Those words burnt the most. It was almost a threat, nothing subtle about it in the least, and Arlo was scared.

If this reporter went far enough to sound that threatening then what would she do if she found out Cillian befriended a girl in school?

Goosebumps broke out on Arlo's skin as she pushed away from the desk and left her room.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, it was like waking up in surreality because Kerry Anders sat at her table speaking with her parents.

The world spun faster; her head began to unscrew; the walls faded, her mind escaped; the voices ran away; and her body kissed the wooden floor.

~ ~ ~

A splitting headache, a bump forming and a foreign surface lay underneath her. Arlo roused, not wanting to, but curiosity will kill this cat even if she had seven lives left to live.

"Hey, hey, don't get up all at once." the deep rumble of a familiar voice relaxed her as she listened and laid back.

"Is she going to be okay?" an alien sound made it back to her ears and her skin prickled with fear. Her body screamed danger, the alarms in her brain pulled until they broke as her sanity ran wild. DO NOT TRUST HER!

A warning in need of heeding if she wanted to keep her friend and herself safe.

"Will I be able to interview her this way?" the unsubtle whispering caught her ears and she let it, her fist clenched in distaste as she began to rise.

She knew vertigo would knock her down again and convince her father to disregard that horrid woman and deny an interview.

Her head turned on its axis and she turned with it, her arms buckled and she flopped back down to the couch. Her eyes were still shut and her father was on high alert. Her mother's footfall came into the conversation and she scoffed. "Clearly, Ms. Anders, my daughter isn't in a proper state to be interrogated for anything right now, so you may take your leave."

"But Mrs. August, this would hel—."

"Did I stutter?" she asked, cutting her off like life support, "I said she isn't doing your interview—gather yourself up and please leave my residence. My daughter will not be used for your repugnant articles, good day Ms. Anders." she stood on four-inch heels watching Ms. Anders walk out with a deep dissatisfaction painted all over her face. Arlo's mother shut the door with finality and walked back to the living room.

Mrs. Alana Gage-August was a dragon of a mother. She was a highly respected lawyer with an attitude that took no bull and a tongue sharp enough to slice diamonds.

She bent before her daughter and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. "Hey sweetheart, are you feeling better?"

Arlo's eyes blinked open, a gasp escaped her mother's lips as tears filled Arlo's brown eyes.