I blink my eyes open, staring into the dimly lit room around me. It takes me several minutes to figure out how I ended up here. The last thing I remember was walking home from school after missing the last bus in the area.

That’s when I heard footsteps behind me—getting closer, matching my pace every time I tried to speed up.

Before I could turn around to check, a piece of cloth came from behind and muffled my screams, cutting off my airflow.

I push myself up from the cold floor, looking around again before making my way to the wooden door at the end of the empty room. I didn’t expect it to be unlocked, but I tried the handle several times anyway.

I cried, screamed, and yelled for help, but was only met with silence—the echo of my own desperate voice.

I press my ear to the door, and when I hear slow footsteps approaching, I back away immediately. My fear spikes when the door unlocks and slowly creaks open, revealing a bearded, broad-shouldered man.

I swallow hard and retreat until I hit the wall, unable to form a single word—only shaky inhales escape my lips.

“Sorry for the uncomfortable room, Amy,” he says, flashing a wicked smile.

I frown at the name.

“My name is… is not Amy.”

He tilts his head, confused.

“I… I’m n-not Amy,” I repeat, fighting back a sob.

“Lying is bad, Amy,” he replies, stepping closer.

“I’m not lying! Amy is… is my neighbor. She’s my age, but I’m not her, I swear.”

He pauses and pulls out his phone, checking something. His jaw clenches, and then he looks back at me.

“Sorry for the mistake. I thought you were Amy,” he says, stepping aside. “You’re free to go. But if you tell anyone—”

“No, I swear I won’t! Please let me go.”

I’ll worry about Amy’s safety later—right now, I just have to run.

After a moment of consideration, he motions for me to leave. Without a second thought, I sprint out of the room, racing toward a large door I assume leads outside. I swing it open and dash into an open lawn.

But the harsh whir of a motor behind me makes me freeze mid-sprint.

I turn around shakily—and there he is. The same man, now holding a chainsaw.

“Run faster, Sarah.”

It was a lie.

I was the target from the beginning.

And that was the moment that I realized it wasn’t ever the plan for me to make it out alive