I can feel it before it happens. The pounding in my ears, the subtle sway of the floor, the pressure building up. And just like that… the laughter dies down. The chatter stops. Everything goes silent.

No one should be moving. No one except me.

It was the click that surprised me and made me turn. I didn’t expect to see someone strutting around, gaze high up, moving. And at the sight of her, I panic and I freeze.

She has steely dark brown eyes and mahogany hair. Her high heels click. She hums to herself, barely glancing at me, and walks around.

The second tick by. I slowly close my eyes when she isn’t looking, just because I was scared I’d need to blink. I start thinking. The world has frozen on and off for as long as I can remember, whenever I felt pressured or scared or angry. I hate parties, especially these kinds where everyone is judging and secretly hates you and you can’t even breathe. But I’ve never seen anyone else who wasn’t frozen. And something told me, this time, she had caused it.

The time goes by. I wait about thirty minutes in that same standing position, not seeing anything, wishing I had chosen a chair. When finally, finally I feel the familiar sway of the floor and the pounding in my ears, and the laughter and chatter building up. Unfrozen.

I open my eyes and look for her. I scan the huge ballroom, but I don’t see her. I don’t know what to think of it, until I hear the screaming.

I jump up and run towards the door. Others do, too. I have this strange dreadful sinking feeling that she is connected to this too. I finally leave the room, into the cold outside, and right there, laying right at the entrance, is something that shocks me to the core.

Oh no. No no no no no.

I gasp, falling on my knees. The world turns and shifts. I feel the pressure building up again and I don’t look to see that everything is frozen.

But I don’t move. All I do is stare at the dead body.

A dead body.

And then I hear the click of her heels. I look up to see her staring right at me from across the street, behind cars and taxis stopped mid-motion. She holds the knife, it drips with red. She smiles a bit. She holds her gaze, steely-eyes, right at me.

Right at me.

And then I run.