Hello, Nightmare at My Window.

January 13, 2009.
9:00 PM.

"Ten new murders have occurred in the Great Lakes Area of the United States in the last month, alone. One can't help but to think what our society is coming to. Your thoughts on this, Katie?"

"I couldn't agree with you more. What is our society coming to? And why is the FBI refusing to release the information on these murders? It seems that either these criminals are really good - that is enough to not get caught, or our security in the United States is failing. My bet is that some people aren't doing their job as well as they should."

"You took the words right out of my mouth. But as for now, people at home, it would be best to stay inside your homes." The first news anchor stated, directing his attention towards the camera.

"And that's exactly what I'm doing, Rick." I said, stuffing a spoon of peanut butter in my mouth and taking the remote control in my other hand, turning the television’s volume down.

I looked towards the ground, sighing that I wasn’t home on a night like this. It was snowing uncontrollably outside. The school board already posted a notice stating that all classes would be canceled the next day due to freezing rain. The roads were slick and covered with ice, which was nice to know that I wouldn’t have to go to classes. Not so nice to know that I would be stuck here in the dorms.

My mother was calling every hour or so, checking to see if I was alright.
Ever since the divorce, she’s felt that I needed “special” attention. I’m nineteen years-old, and it’s not like I didn’t see it coming anyways. I’d been pleading with her lately to start dating again, so she wouldn’t be so paranoid about us. Us?...you ask. Well, I have two brothers. Technically, they’re both older than me – but Oli was my twin so I concluded that I wasn’t the youngest in the family no matter what anyone told me.

Oliver Jehk Donahue was the typical “you look at me weird and I’ll make sure you don’t have offspring” male teenager. Except, he wasn’t so typical… Oli not only knew how to handle himself in any circumstance, and he had a fascination with murder cases. If we didn’t look so alike, people would assume we weren’t related. But we were identical – despite the fact that he was a male, taller, and dyed his natural blonde hair to black. The "twins" labeldoesn’t automatically mean wehave to beexactly alike. We have the same birthday, sapphire eyes, smooth jaw-line, AB positive bloodtype, and, ontop of all that, matching finger prints.

My older brother…he's a bit more complicated. I could say that he's the typical “bad boy” but that is only a front he puts up. Ever since our father left, he’s put up this abrasive, “I don’t care about anything” wall – but, trust me, he cares more than anyone you will ever know; about everything. But to make sure nobody sees it, well, he hides – behind alcohol, drugs, popularity, and, even in some circumstances, crime.

Sometimes, I wish he would just admit that he’s been hurt. After all, isn’t that why most crime is initiated?

I turned off the t.v. all the way this time, and opened the window.

I loved nights like these in Michigan. The snow was piled onto the sidewalks in the plowers' attempts to clear the roads. What I loved most though wasthat on winter nights in Michigan, there were no night and day skies – but white and grey. The snow sent off an alluminus glow to the thick black night sky, and it almost seemed as if you were looking into a thick cloud of gas.

My attention averted to a group of teenagers, playing in the snow just outside of the dorm. I laughed as a boy threw a snowball at a young girl, who cried in response.

Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to the room, searching for something to entertain me, as well. I hadn’t really gotten to know anyone in the dorm, or even the college for that matter. I wish that I could hold the excuse that I was new over that for reasoning, but that wasn’t exactly the case. I had been there for a whole semester already, and the only friends I seemed to have accumulated from the beginning of classes till then, were my professors and a small group of pot-smokers that dropped out halfway through the first semester. Sad, I know. Though, some part of me still held onto my past so strongly that I wasn’t ready yet to let go of my old high school acquaintances. Unlike the typical freshman at the university, I already knew exactly what I wanted out of life. Honestly, how many nineteen-year-olds do you know who can say that? The students I had met at the college seemed to me, as dim-witted followers of the latest trends. They couldn’t decide what they would drink that night at a party, let alone, what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives.

So, I considered myself to be alone. Not in this world, all-together (I'm not that naive), but in this universtiy. Sure, there were decent people that lived on campus. I’m certain there were. But, I still didn’t desire wasting my time to impress someone into becoming my friend when I had my own already.
I flopped down on my bed this time, rummaging though my bags and tossing aside various books, finally grabbing ahold of my cell phone. I heaved a stressful sigh as I dialed a number I knew better than my own, waiting impatiently for the other line to pick-up.

Kate Hudgens was my best friend since the day we laid eyes on each other in second grade. Oh, geeze, now I sound like I’m describing my soulmate. “Once, on a mid-summer’s night, my eyes laid upon I beautiful lass. And – and I knew it was fate.”

I gagged thinking of the stereotypical love stories I had been forced to read in my school years. If it weren’t for Kate, I don’t think I would have been able to survive. And I’m not exaggerating. Do you know how it feels to spend every waking day of your life alone? Well, neither do I…but I can only imagine. Kate saved me from that. She likes to remind me of that often – how if we would have never met, that I would die a lonely, miserable death with many cats and a stock-up on vanilla yogurt.

Which is outrageous…I absolutely despise yogurt.

After my move to the university, it had become surprising to me that Kate and I had stayed friends through it all. Not that I was expecting her and I to stop talking all-together, but rather, I had an intense fear that we would lose that closeness that I had grown to love. This was after the first time in our lives that we were forced to live away from each other. I always told her that she should’ve skipped grades with me, I couldn’t stand not having her with me. I struggled throughout the year in being civil around new friends she made during my vacation visits home. Though, I couldn’t help but to leash out some jealousy. Each new friend to me meant less and less talking, and as a result, our pact to be best friends forever would become weaker and weaker, until I would eventually lose her all-together.

And that was something I wouldn't tolerate.

Finally, a static ‘click’ issued from the other line and girl’s voice muttered, “Yellow” in an un-amused tone.
“Hey.” I greeted, smiling slighlty at her tone. “Working?”
“Mmmhm..” She answered. “Let me guess, En,”Kate began, calling me by the nickname she had created for me years ago when she noted that “Annie” just never would fit well with me. In fact she scolded me whenever I allowed others to call me the name.

“You’re bored to death because you’ve had no school today, will have no school tomorrow, and you can’t even go home?”
I bit my lip at the accusation.
“Possibly.”

I heard her laugh on the other line, then, a loud noise as she set down whatever she had been working on – most likely reading from a chemistry or anatomy book which could rightfully kill someone if used properly. We've tested this out already. Well, we haven't killed anyone - but we did manage to knock her 14 year-old brother out cold. In which, afterwards we concluded that Kate could never be harmed as long as she had her books nearby.

“No room mate yet?” She questioned, now obviously putting her full attention into our conversation.
“No…not that I mind not having one, since what happened last time. But you know, sometimes I feel like I’m about ready to talk to a wall.” She laughed, again.
“You would do that, too. Promise me you won’t lose it before I get to become your roomie next year?”
I smirked at the question. “I’ll be fine for a month or so…but we’ll see how I hold out after that.”
I smirked, expecting another laugh to escape her lips, but instead was given an exhasperated sigh.
“Annette…”
“Uh-oh, you called me by my real name. Something wrong?” I joked.
I heard her smirk. “I’m serious. I know you aren’t that social of a person, but don’t you think that ….”
“That, what?” I questioned, daring her to continue.
“That you should at least be making some new friends. It’s not normal to live somewhere for six months and not know anyone there.”
“I know people here.”
“Besides your teachers.”
“Okay…you got me there.”
She sighed once more, as I bit my lip.
There was silence on the other line.
“I guess I’ve just never been very good at making new friends.” I added. “I like my old ones too much and no one else measures up.”
“Oh, hush. Flattery won’t stop me from nagging.” She said, adding with a yawn. “I’m starting to fall asleep..”
“So?” I questioned, examining the elegant decor on my plain, violet bed sheets.
“En!” she whined. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I have a test in the morning and need to catch some sleep.”
“Hold on. Let me think it over.”
“Think what over?”
“Whether or not I should let you go.”
“En!” She whined.
“Okay, okay.” I said, rolling my eyes at her annoyance. I looked towards the window and bit my lip again.
“Night, Katers.” I whispered barely audible. For some reason I didn’t want to say goodbye then, I wanted her to stay on the phone all night if possible.
“Night En.”

I sighed and flipped my phone shut to end the call. I missed my old friends; my old life. And I concluded then that you knew you were truly pathetic when school’s called off for the rest of the week, and all you can think of doing is homework.

Lifting my macbook open, I turned on my webcam, waiting for the green light to come on.

“Hey, guys. Annette here.” I bit my lip glancing back at my appearance on the computer screen. “I don’t really know what to say.” I laughed more of to myself than to my viewers.
For the past six months, my only connection to the world I grew to love was my webcam.

It began with the occasional random video that I would post on the internet. And then a wonderful creation appeared in front of me; youtube.
The moment I uploaded my first vlog on the site, was like a dream come true. I got over a million views within a month and it felt amazing that people liked what I had to say. They wrote messages to me constantly giving ideas and showing support. Mostly, they loved the funny little sketches and songs I made with Oli and Kate. But, every now and then such as this night, I would just wing it and speak my mind – after all, I could edit everything out later.

“Yeah, we’ll edit that part out...” I muttered, moving my fingers through my long, blondehair in exasperation.
“What to say. What to say…” my hands fell to my sides, brushing against my literature book.
I sighed, picking it up and flipping it open to the poem I was supposed to be paraphrasing.
“Well maybe I should’ve actually come up with an idea before I turned on the webcam. But whatever.”

“Now I’ve come to realize that I am a jukebox.” I began to read. “A very old jukebox… Nope, I’m only nineteen.” I noted.

I skimmed through the rest of the poem. “Blah. Blah…Oo! Pretty line! Okay listen to this, viewers. I am an analogue thing. I participate in your consciousness, as you participate in mine. Yeah – you’re right. This is so boring.” I sighed flipping through the book looking for some idea of what to talkabout or something at least interesting to read for that matter.

Finally I landed on one poem in particular, reading the haunting imagery outloud.
“Now she visits without calling first, weeps tears thin as lightbulb filament - running down her forearms and my walls, the color of the houses on the hills where she colored in her childhood. Blood runs through the locks of every room she enters.” At saying this, I threw the book down in annoyance.

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?! God, poetry’s so annoying.”

Just then, the green light on my web cam turned off, as well as the rest of the lighting in my small humble abode.

I heard some commotion in the hallway.
“What’s happening?” I questioned, pushing my feet off of the bed onto the cold tiled floors, and making my way to the door.
It seemed like everyone on our floor was out of their rooms.

“What’s happening?” A red-head questioned, reflecting my thoughts exactly.

Our R.A., Amanda stood in the middle of all the girls with a flashlight in hand, and from what I could tell, she had been disrupted while taking her shower.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a power outage. Nothing to worry about. A snow storm is passing through and it must’ve knocked out a power line.” She tried to assure us. But I rolled my eyes in response. It was clear that she really had no idea what was going on.
“For the mean time, get some sleep. It’s going to get cold – so bundle up. If you need more blankets, contact me.”

I crossed my arms and sighed in annoyance. This was great…I mean really,who wouldn’t mind sleeping in the middle of winter in Michigan, during a snow storm with no heat and a shortage of blankets? Oh, I know I’d be the first in line.
I walked back into my room, locking the door behind me. Then, walked over to my bed, as I realized the only activity I was able to partake in now was sleeping. Something in the back of my mind willed me to attempt to sleep through the whole storm.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.