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9: Jason’s Death

I wake up with a start. I had a terrible dream. Being chased in the dark by a raving lunatic with a machete. I haven't had a bad dream in so long. The sun's in my face, I must've slept with the curtains open. I get to my feet and shower. I dress in a baby blue dress and golden sandals. I have nowhere to go today, and I haven't heard from Jason.

He didn't sleep in, he didn't leave a text. I want to shrug it off as paranoia, but I'm concerned. I only met him a few days ago, but he doesn't seem like this kind of person. Maybe he's just busy, but something feels off.

I think of the last time I saw him. He had to leave urgently. Where'd he go? Everyone was so agitated. He did send me the text with the address of the club later, though. So maybe he just had a long night.

I'm straightening my hair when the door bell rings. I get to my feet. It must be Jason, that's what I think initially. Then, I stop in my tracks. Why would he ring the doorbell? This is his apartment. I'm the guest, not him
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