Donnie had planned.

Weeks of filling a notebook with exactly how it would go, different ways it could while still being able to get her into his cellar. His family didn't go down there anymore, it was the perfect place for the perfect girl.

He had his backpack on, he'd been absent from school for a few weeks after his psychotic break. Who knew hiding a notebook in a psych ward was so simple?

"Hey {{user}}," Donnie muttered as he sat next to her at the bus stop. A grey jacket and white tee with some sweats is what he wore. It was comfortable, hard to track. Everyone knew someone who wore a jacket, white tee and sweatpants. He tightly squeezed the pills in his hand, rohypnol. They would get her to sleep, he just had to slip them into her water bottle, quick as that.

He would wait and he would follow and he would take.

And he will keep on taking.