I headed for my car as quickly as possible, trying to search my mind as to why this man is after me now, what sin did I ever commit?

I franticly pull out my keys and open my car door.  I am still breathing uncontrollably.  "What if it isn't me he is after?"  The horrid thought eludes me as I put the car in drive and placed my arm on the passengers side, turning my head to get a better view while I back out.  As I do Nona's bloody image appears in the back seat, stunned I can do nothing but jerk the car and stare blankly into her eyes.  So black, and lifeless as they seem to be asking me why, why didn't you save me?    

After what seems like hours I turn back around and begin to cry.  Why can’t I help anyone with this gift?  I am inconsolable, putting my head down on the steering wheel, weeping for ever women that died by the hands of that maniac.  I hear my phone ring; it brings me back to reality as I answer.

“Hello?”

“Thou shall honor thy mother and father…”

It’s him again, that deep voice.  Each time I hear it I am reminded of the dream, the women hanging on the crosses, with their supposed sin ravaged on their necks.  Their blood is black as it drips onto the cold cavern floor.  The man is standing in the middle of this horrific scene laughing melancholy with his hands raised towards heaven; as if he is doing gods work.  No, in doing these tasks he sees himself as the all-mighty.

“Who are you!? And why are you after me!?”  I scream hoping for a response.

Silence grips me as no words are spoken.  This grim feeling overcomes me, as if the reapers scythe is slowly creeping closer to my neck.  The answer is not one I want to hear, nor ever want to realize.  This must all be a dream?  No, it’s more real than ever.

“It’s not you I am after…”

Those words cause my grip on the phone to cease as my eyes open wide. 

“No…”

I say as I put my hangs on the wheel and quickly maneuver my car out of the parking lot and towards my daughter’s school.  I swerve past cars with unreal precision as the thought of my daughter’s safety corrupts my mind.  I call her cell phone, but get no answer.

“Please god, no.  Don’t do this…”  I say almost not being able to control my feelings.

I drive 90 down each street, hoping to get there before the next period ends.  The thought of Paige in the hands of that sick bastard sneaks in at each stop light, my panicked face causes an irruption of anger as I continue on my path towards my daughter. 

“She must be safe; it’s all just a trick…”

I finally reach the school.  I don’t even bother to park, just pulling up in front of the school and heading to the front doors.  I quickly enter the building and dash towards the main office.  I enter the office and speak to the women sitting at the counter.

“Where’s Paige?  Where’s my daughter!?”  I say shouting with each word.

“Dr. Davis is there something wrong?”  She asks with an addled look upon her face.

“Paige, where is she?”

“She should be in Biology, why?  Is there something wrong?”

“What room is that!?”  I ask with baited breathe,

“202,” she says.

I leave the office and look for her room.  I am reassured in my mind that she must be in class, nothing is wrong with her.  I pass a number of young students, each with a curious look upon their faces, perhaps my despair is visual.  I finally find the class and enter looking immediately for her.  I don’t see her so I ask the teacher,

“Where’s Paige!?”

“I thought you were coming to pick her up?”

“What?”

“She isn’t here; I thought you came to pick her up.”

A cold chill runs down my spin, such a feeling as never overcome my body.  I slowly back out of the class holding my stomach.  The emotional pain starts to attack me, I feel as though vomit will spew out of me at any moment.  I slowly exit the school, holding the lockers with one hand and my stomach with the other.  As I finally reach the outside the vomit reaches my mouth and is dispelled onto the grass near by.  I kneel down and begin to cry. I can’t believe she is gone.  Just then my phone rings, I look at the caller ID on my phone and it reads Paige.  I quickly answer it.

“Paige!?”

“Mom…”

“Where are you?”