Knock. Knock.
Knock. Knock. “I’m coming!” I shouted as I raced to answer the door, only to find my boyfriend, Alex Collins, standing on the doorstep. “We have to leave town.” He states, “Hello to you too,” “I’m serious.” I roll my eyes, “Okay, I’ll grab my stuff.” As I’m about to walk upstairs, I overhear a news reporter say, “We are sad to report that Alex Collins, 19, was found dead an hour ago...” A shiver runs down my spine as I turn back to Alex. If the news reporter said Alex is dead, then who is standing on my doorstep? by Ellie S Fiander