June fifteenth.

The words echo in my head, in a haunting chant, chilling me to the bone.

The date had been haunting my nightmares for months, and I had no idea why. Haunting, scratching voices whispering it from behind, as gruesome images appeared before me. A knife flashing in a blur of silver, a pool of fresh crimson blood, a white rose laid on a grave.

I had told no one. It had been eating me alive, and I dreaded the date, sure I had seen some kind of warning. I would simply sit in my room with the doors locked, and try not to get murdered.

But it wasn’t so easy.

It was my best friend, Carrie’s, sixteenth birthday on June fifteenth and she was throwing a huge party. Of course, she invited me. I tried to decline, but she begged me, and how could I turn her down? So here I am, in a room packed with teenagers, knowing I am about to die.

Carrie and a couple of my other friends have tried to get me to join the party, but I told them all I wasn’t feeling well, and went to sit alone on a kitchen stool, sweaty and nervous. Glimpses of the horrible dreams flood my head, filled with screaming, splatters of blood, and the sickening sound of a knife piercing flesh.

My head hurts, and my vision is blackening on the edges. I’m panicking. Slowly I pull myself off the stool, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles turn white. The world spins before me, and I want to throw up. I go to get a glass of water, when I see it before me. A long sharp, kitchen knife, facing directly towards me.

I react before I even look to see who’s holding it. “DON’T COME NEAR ME!” I yell, just as the song playing in the background ends. “DON’T TOUCH ME!”

I look up to see the startled face of Carrie’s mom, holding a kitchen knife and a birthday cake. Carrie had made her way over, behind her mom, and everyone nearby had turned to stare. “Sara, what-“ Carrie began, as I burst into tears. “I’m sorry!” I sobbed. “I’m sorry, I just-“

Then it happened. In a blur of movement, Carrie crumpled to the ground, utter shock on her face, as a streak of sliver disappeared behind her. “CARRIE!” I cried, diving towards her, her eyes rolling back in her head. Around us, utter confusion breaks out, some screaming, crying, running off, or pushing to get closer. In the confusion, a figure dressed in black darted out before anyone could stop them.

Carrie’s mom and I clutched onto Carrie, as blood pooled out around and her eyes fluttered closed. Shrieks came from the crowd of high schoolers standing around us.

The nightmares were not about me. For months, I had been watching my best friend die.