The Story

    Julie felt a cold hand clasp around her ankle and pull her under the bed.  "Ray!" she screamed, but the bathroom door had slammedshut.  He couldn't hear her.  Her mind desperately scrambled for what she was going to do.  She twisted around, as the hand pulled her under the bed, and she looked into the eyes of her attacked.  "Will!" she gasped.  She had thought he was dead; she saw Ray shoot him.
    He held in his hand his father's hook, and he slammed it into Julie's leg.  She screamed in pain, and kicked at him with the other leg.  "Julie," he hissed at her.  "Julie, I want you.  I've always wanted you.  And now I'm going to have you."
    She kicked again, and got him square in the crotch.  Angry, he hit her again with the hook, and it scraped against the hollow of her neck.  She could feel the blood welling up.  "Ray!" she screamed again.
    "He can't hear you, Julie."
    "Did you--?"
    "Not yet," he told her.  "But I will.  But you'll hurt more than he will."
    Suddenly, the door burst open, and in a reflexive effort, Will hit Julie in the head, the hook wedging itself in her temple.  She couldn't think, the pain was so fierce.  In the distance, she heard-- "Julie?" before she passed out into oblivion.

    "What's your name?"
    "Julie James."
    "When were you born?"
    "September 10th, 1980."
    "Good."  The psychiatrist tapped against her clipboard with a mechanical pencil, and the sound resonated against the blank walls of the room.  "Have you remembered anything else?"
    Julie looked at Ray, and shook her head.  He was so sad, almost crying.  He had told her he loved her, that they had been in love, but she felt none of that.  She couldn't even remember his face; he didn't look familiar at all.