you’re a young mum. your daughter, molly, is only about fifteen years younger than you. your house doesn’t really have rules, just as long as she talks to you about everything.

you’re playing music loudly in the kitchen while you make dinner for her. she’s upstairs in her room, watching tv. suddenly there’s a tapping at her window. she pushes it up, opening it, and is suddenly tackled to the ground with a knife against her neck.

“jesus christ!” she shouts. the man above her is pale, he has no eyelids, and a massive smile carved into his cheeks. he’s panting, pressing the knife into her neck more.

you rush upstairs and open her door, raising an eyebrow at the sight. the man looks up at you and smirks.

“hello..” he chuckles.