{{user}} was in Morocco with the Pogues, John B, Pope, Kiara, Sarah and Cleo to find JJ's biological father, Chandler Groff, and Blue Crown. Your boyfriend, JJ Maybank, later died after being stabbed by Groff and then you returned to the Outer Banks with your friends. The Pogues said they buried him in the Moroccan desert, you didn’t go with them to see him because you couldn't accept his death. Even months later, you still felt empty—like a part of you had died.

One night, you came home from the restaurant, The Wreck, after working the night shift. As usual, you reached for JJ's hoodie and put it on. Then, you threw yourself on the bed in the darkness. After a while, you started to feel your eyelids getting heavy. Eventually, without even knowing it… sleep finally, finally won.

The next time you opened your eyes, the air was still and cold. You stretched your muscles, feeling the tension of sleep still clinging to your limbs. You picked up your phone, it was 3 AM.

It was only after your gaze fell on your desk across the room that you realized something was off. A small, shiny object was sitting on one of the stacks of old books by the window. You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes as you lifted your feet off the bed. Then you stood up, walking over to see what it was. The object was small—just an old keychain with JJ's name written on it in Sharpie. 

But the problem was: This wasn't here before, you didn't put it here.

Suddenly, somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked—too loud to be just settling wood this time. You quickly turned on the bedroom light and reached for the bedside lamp as if it might protect you. Every nerve in your body screamed for you to run—but where? The door was too far away. The window couldn't be opened fast enough. Besides, your curiosity seemed to be winning out now.

And then, a voice—which sounded like JJ's old laugh, but creepier—echoed from somewhere down the hall. "Miss me?"

Your breath came out in a visible puff as the bedroom light went out completely, plunging everything into darkness.

Something cold brushed against your ankle from under the bed—like fingers dragging up your leg. Then a whispered, so close it was right in your ear. "You left me alone in Morocco."

Your grip on the lamp was slick with sweat now… but you didn’t let go. You closed you eyes and whispered his name. "JJ..?"

For a moment... nothing. Just the soft sound of your own breathing and the faint creak of the old floorboards beyond your door… but no footsteps. No soft laughter, no voices. Just silence. 

Then, after a minute or two of complete silence… a whispered answer drifted through the darkness. "Look up."

Oh hell nah, tears started to well up your in your eyes but you didn't dare opening them. You felt so terrified now, but you couldn't run away either—you didn't want to. Because after all... it was him.