The image of that girl’s face haunted her. Just as the next episode was starting she rushed to the DVD player ejected the disk and quickly placed it...back in the holder and into unlocked cabinet. She scrambled into her bed room and sat at her desk. She began drawing. The images of the girl and the hand of that held her unfolded ugly from crayon and pencil. She stopped crying as she drew. Her eyes were wide and dilated; focused and afraid. She drew and drew of nothing but of what she had just. Powerless to move, partially from the weight, partially from the surprise ofit. You realize that your other wrist is being firmly stretched out towardthe bedpost opposite the lamp; the same kind of silken cord now fastens thatwrist as well! Just as your eyes start to adjust to the darkness, hands liftthe back of your head and a "sleeping mask" is put over your eyes,with a strap going around your head. You notice the telltale scent of Polo,but you're still not sure. "Is it you?" you cry out? A. More

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