Survive him, Thrive with him.

Claire Mathews had a particulary normal life; good friends, nice education. The only things thatmade her different was her paranoid friends, and complicated family life.
She never really experienced more than her little secluded box of life and comfort.
In an eventful short period of time, that little box is stretched far and wide, opening up past what her mind can comprehend and bringing her 'normal' life to a screeching halt. She wasn't Claire Mathews anymore, and she wasn't the same girl who did all her homework and kissed her mother goodnight over the telephone.
What happened? A certain man of myth decided to knock on her door.
A certain man with surprising news and a shocking, if not believable, story to tell.
A certain man with no face.

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1. Chapter one

I suddenly wake from my light sleep, feeling even more tired than a few hours ago, looking at the clock and groaning.

 

Three thirty in the morning.

 

I re-position myself more and try to get comfortable, nothing working. It was as if something just didn't want me to sleep tonight, and hasn't let me sleep for the past few nights either.
  I snort in defeat and rise from my bed, trying to find something that will induce my sleep faster. Well, I'm not doing the stupid warm milk trick.
  With a cough, I blink several times to keep my eyes open and then rub then, wiping the tiredness from my mind. I've really been annoyed with the lack of sleep my body mysteriously decided to have each night.
  I walk away from my bed and open my door as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone else in the house on my journey for amusement. The cool doorknob makes noise when I let go of it and I wince, creeping along the hallway and groping the wall for the switch. As my hand slides over the rectangular object, the lights flicker on and I stand in a small zone of brightness, the rest of the living room and house dark and mysterious. I shut the lights off again, not liking the feeling of being able to be seen, just standing in the light.

 

My heart rate suddenly speeds up and I press against the wall, waiting for it to calm down before moving. I fight to control my thoughts and tell myself that no one else was here, and I was alone.

 

I slowly step across the floor and my feet hit tile, expertly missing all the creeks in the floor boards on my way to the kitchen. I manage to bump into the counter top and spread my hands across it, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. I make out decent shapes, good enough to not end up tripping over the stove. In a few steps I'm at the fridge, moving a little to the right and bending down to open a cabinet and take out a smooth cylinder. The hot chocolate mix wasn't to heavy and suggested that we needed to buy more, if my dad would even consider buying me something that brought me happiness.

 

I place it on the counter and pull off the lid, reaching above me for a glass and filling the bottom with powder. I cover the mix again and replace it back into it's spot, opening a drawer and pulling out a spoon. I walk out the kitchen slowly and into the bathroom softly lit up with a blue light, giving me just enough to see the faucet and turn it on. I push the handle to the left and let the running water heat up under my fingertip, reaching it's max. I drop the glass under the hot water and fill it up, stopping the water and mixing my drink with the spoon. I leave the silverware in the sink and walk into my bedroom again, the lights on. I spasmodically close the door behind me to keep any monsters out, taking a hot sip from my beverage.

 

I hate the dark.
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