Casey Blackwood walked to the room where her yearbook organization club met after school. She dumped pictures of students hanging on one another's shoulder, smiling broadly, and playing sports on the table. Everybody stopped and look at her, like they didn't expect her to be there. She waved timidly with one hand, the other flying rapidly up to her curly brown hair, in a last-ditch effort to smooth it out.
Feeling uncomfortable, she mumbled something about having to go to the bathroom. She dashed out the door and into the cool hallway. Her old tennis shoes slapped against the cracked linoleum floors with every receding step. She pushed the bathroom door open, finding it empty except for the toilets and the sink and the regular bathroom furniture. One of the stalls was closed and locked, which was weird because everybody besides the newspaper club was supposed to be gone. She brushed the image aside and stood in front of the mirror, feeling insecure about her hair, and her appearance in general.
Suddenly, something started to feel extremely wrong. There was a whispering in the stall behind her. All at once, something black shot out of one of the stalls, running into Casey. She staggered backward and fell into the sink, smacking her head on one of the faucets. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She felt cold hands pressing against her throat. The world was going blue. Blue, blue, blue. She felt something warm and moist seeping out of the back of her head. She felt herself going upside down. What felt like grass cut into her back. And then she was being dragged, into darkness