Margo was spendning a long weekend at her childhood home. When her mother had called and asked her to house-sit while they took a vacation, Margo had been a little too excited to go home. For the past four years Margo had been living alone in New York, waitressing by day and spending most of the night painting. That same amount of time had seen her trying every possible way to get her art into galleries; she hoped against hope that someone would take an intrest and make her pieces famous. So far the only place her art was being hung was in her own apartment -- and Margo was beginning to run out of space.

It felt odd being in her old house again. Being older always shed a light on childhood, made you see things that you had never realized before. There was a certain coldness within the house now -- a lack of warmth that Margo didn't remember not being there. Despite that fact, Margo remembered being happy as a child. The reassurance of being told what to do and still being full of hope and dreams was something that she missed terribly. Margo thought it would be nice if just for a weekened she could get close to that feeling again.

Her first night back had been relitively uneventful. She had sent the house staff home early; their constant fussing and asking if she needed anything was beginning to be more than she could handle. Even still, completely alone, Margo couldn't help but feel as though there was someone still in the house with her -- a not all-together uncommon feeling in a large house. After making dinner for herself and watching as much late night tv as she could stand, Margo decided to call it a night. The feeling of someone watching still nagged at her insides, but rather than investigate the entire house by herself at night, she decided it would be better to quickly excuse herself to her room and lock the door behind her.

As Margo snuggled deeper into her pillow she thought about the next day. It had been ages since she had taken a horse ride around the house property -- a thought that she chuckled at herself for having. Before Margo could entertain another thought the sound of the floorboards creaked in her room, a sound that could only have been made by someone else. Her heart instantly began to race, the pulse pounding in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes tight refusing to believe that what she heard had been real. Another creak and Margo felt her as though her blood was burning with fear. The last thing she wanted to do was open her eyes, but deep inside her she knew that being able to see that nothing was there would put her to rest -- she had locked the door behind her, there could be no way that anyone had gotten into her room. With a shaky hand and her eyes still closed, she reached out for the lamp on her beside table.

The actions that followed all seemed to happen within the same second. The lamp light came on and Margo's eyes flashed open to the sight of a masked man standing over her. Her mouth opened but before a scream could be formed the masked figure plunged a surenge into her neck. The effects of whatever she had been injected with hit fast. Margo felt her limps grow weak and the image of the masked man standing over her slowly began to fade into blackness.