The news had never interested her, but it had been the only thing her parents ever watched. That and preached sermons filmed from megachurches that made the skin on the back of her arm crawl once she started contemplating how much money they spent on frivolous displays of extravagance. In a way, that accurately described her parents. They were not particularly good people, not when you peeled back the layers and took a closer look. 

Charity did not exist. They held tightly to their wealth; any penny given was one that needed to be returned with interest. While the Hanson's may not have been considered a rich family, they were safely located in the middle class of society and would do whatever they could to remain in that position. They were also not fond of people who were different from themselves. Words escaped their lips on more than one occasion that made her sit in an uncomfortable, yet complicit silence. 

But they were her family. They had showered her with love and nothing less even if their expectations sometimes exceeded her capabilities. Sarah loved them—or she had—with everything in her heart, flaws and all. The loss was devastating. 

That was why she was watching the news. The sound of the newscaster was a comforting familiarity in the background as her mind wandered. She wasn't listening to what the woman was saying, but her eyes read scroll on the bottom of the screen catching her up with world events. 

A string of violent outbursts had been happening all over the country and they were now calling it an epidemic. There was little comfort to be had in knowing her father hadn't been in his right mind when all she could see when she closed her eyes was the crimson pool gathering on the carpet and the red smear on her father's menacing, emancipated face.

The knock on the door startled her and she leaned over for the remote sitting beside her on the blankets to mute the television. Her head turned towards the door, body erect, and brows lifted. Driven by her paranoia, she held her breath wondering who it could be. Hearing the deputy on the other side, Sarah exhaled a sigh of relief. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she scooted forward and made her way to the other side of the room. Even though she knew who it was, she still took a quick glance out of the peek-hole. 

“Deputy Hall,” she said as she opened the door to allow him inside. She knew him, or more accurately knew of him, from their high school days. They'd had little communication then and even less now. There were little facts she knew about him based solely on the fact that everyone in Fairsburrow knew everyone else and gossip was a popular form of entertainment. “Thank you for coming to check on me, but really, I'm fine.”

It was another lie. The previous night she gotten little to no sleep. By the time she jerked awake from the nightmares, her sheets had been drenched in sweat; it had been embarrassing to call room service asking for a change and she spent the rest of the evening watching infomercials.

“Does what happened have something to do with the things that have been happening on the news?” Her blue eyes drifted towards the muted screen.