At first I was confused, and then I was terrified.

Grace?

It was twenty after midnight, and for the first time since I was a child, I saw my best friend.

The problem is, she died a long time ago.

Let me in, Jessica.

Nearly jumping out of bed, I stared through the thin red curtains and stained glass.

Her face was muddled in the darkness, but I knew it was her.

I knew.

Something told me not to look further that, that if I were to stare into her eyes, I might never come back.

Still, I had to be sure.

I had changed locations recently, moving to the 14th floor of an apartment building in a forgotten part of Los Angeles.

There had been complaints of rats and other vermin, and though the place wasn't yet condemned, it was most likely on its way.

Jessica?

The voice repeated, seeming to float gently just outside the glass.

I summoned all of my courage and asked her the only question I could think of.

How are you here?

The soft breeze from the window suddenly became violent, and one strip of wallpaper tore clean off of the wall.

You know how? Now let me in.

And with that, I felt my knees and began to cry.

Ten years later, ten years of therapy and ten years of prayer and ten years of them saying I had imagined it all,

that I had imagined the thing in the forest, it hadn't been there when the police returned.

Oh, sweetie, you made that all up. Everyone has a different way to cope.

...