My name's Katie and I never fitted in anywhere. I was teased, bullied, labeled an outcast, and hated by everyone around me, I never had friends and hated leaving my house. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone and go burn in hell, it's not like I asked to be this..this freak that everyone was bent on thinking that I was and why did they all believe this? Simple because I was different, I dressed differently, listened to different music, everything about me and what I did was different then what was considered "normal" at school and around me but who would ever want to be normal. What a strange word too, "normal" I hated the word just as much as everyone hated me.

I always thought that I was doomed to be this freak for the rest of my life being hated and scorned more then the prospect of death, that was until I Jeff. Jeff was different but he also wasn't real instead he was an online character meant to scare the crap out of everyone that every came upon his story putting the image of a killer dressed in blood drenched clothing with a permeant smile and unblinking eyes holding a knife telling you to go to sleep before slashing your throaght open. Oh how I loved his story I loved all of their stories cause it made me feel less freaky to know that there were others even if they were fictional. That's another reason why everyone hated me because I liked horror, horror movies, horror stories, anything that was considered horror or had blood and guts and slashers killing everyone around them that's what I like about Jeff he's everything that I enjoyed. He was dark, a ruthless killer, and scared everyone sleepless, that horror was what gave me goosebumps the more chills that slithered down my spin the more I enjoyed the story.

Beginning to see why I'm a freak because I enjoy others pain and torment, I enjoy watching people get murrdered ruthlessly in stories or movies, I take pleasure in feelings that would scare anyone senseless. I know their all right that I am a freak but that's who I was and I didn't like being bullied and beaten every time they could throw a good punch or two without anyone seeing. Underneath all of the darkness was someone else though, I wasn't always creepy and tough in fact I'm actually the opposite. I'm weak, fragile, and a different type of killer. I used to be happy and girly that was until I opened my eyes to the world and I killed her because she reminded me of the past of a person who I was taught to be when that wasn't me. I had scars, and bruises that were from my own hand, I've cried through countless nights because I had no one to talk to and my parents were never home at all always working so I would spend every waking moment of my life alone.

"If only you were real Jeff."

I sighed looking at the carefully drawn photo of the killer that I had just finished before lying down to sleep. The house is usually quiet, if a mouse ran across the tile floor in the kitchen it could be heard all throughout the house, if a tree creaked outside it would boom loudly through the halls. That's what woke me, the loud creak coming from outside, it had to be just a tree branch or something else that was stupid and useless to worry myself over. But there was no use in trying to go back to sleep now, what was the point of sleeping anyways? All we do is just dream of stupid fantasies and other crap that will never come true or do they?

The creaks were getting louder and it sounded like they were coming up the stairs.

"It's just that crooked tree outside. Come one Katie don't be so stupid."

We had a crooked tree that rested agains the second floor landing window and it bugged me so much. Seeing as I'd be getting no sleep I reached behind me to grab my notebook but it was gone. That couldn't be though, I had placed it on my nightstand with the pencil where I last left off, but they were now gone or maybe they were just out of reach. I turned over to check the bedside table but found neither book nor pencil but when I sat up I saw him. He was standing there in the corner of the room looking at my notebook through his smile I could see his true lips frowning slightly, his knife on the ground at his feet and he was just staring at the picture.

I didn't say anything or move for I didn't want to surprise him that I was indeed awake and watching him in the dark. I saw watched him set the notebook down on the desk, pick up the knife and walk out of my room as though I was never there at all. That night I haven't forgotten at all nor would I ever. After he had left I picked the notebook back up and noticed that it wasn't the picture I had drawn last night but the one I drew a few nights back, a picture of him when he was younger before he became who he is now. There was blood smudges where he held the book, and I understood the frown hiding behind a smile, even though I knew he would never admit such a thing I knew he slightly regretted that night as well as all the others that came afterward.

My hopes had risen that soon I would see him once more standing in my room watching through the darkness but he didn't come back and my life down hilled more. I soon came home with more scars and injuries, more hatful remarks and the pain of cruel jokes ringing through my mind. I hated school, I hated my life, I hated Jeff. He could have killed me, it would have just taken one quick swipe of his knife and all of this pain would have been gone and I wouldn't have to worry about it any longer. But even he suffered through what I have, he faced bullies and their torment but he lost his sanity and now he was liberating people like me from our own nightmares. Like I once heard "Every villain is a hero in his own mind," and that's exactly what Jeff was. He was a hero, he was doing what he believed was right and I stood behind his goals. In my mind he was a hero, he was an idol and after that night I looked even deeper into who he was finding even more to like about the killer and soon I had a file of pictures drawn of him and as well detailed as I could possibly accomplish incase he should return and I'm asleep.

I always hoped that he would return and that hope grew when one night I heard the familiar creaking of the floorboards outside in the hall but I still remained silent, waiting for the killer to walk in but instead I felt something soft nudge against me and sitting up I came eye to eye with a black and red furred dog. It took me a moment to comprehend the presence of the dog but he circled once before laying his head down on my legs as I carefully stroked his head wondering how he got into the house. I didn't have to wait long for an answer for within seconds Jeff came in looking furious at the dog, sadness twinkled in his eyes but it was clear that he couldn't stay mad at the dog .

All the while it seemed as though he didn't even notice me but I know that wasn't the case he was avoiding me for some reason. Jeff motioned for the dog to follow him and I knew that I had to do something before he left, something to get him to notice that I was there and knew he was there as well.

"Why do you keep coming back?" I called after him, he stopped for a moment before continuing to walk out the door and I followed him into the hall.

"Why haven't you killed me yet? Isn't that what your notorious for? For killing people and yet you come here night after night and yet I'm still here. Why?"

He stopped and looked down at the dog before looking back up but not turning around to face me.

"My reasons are my own. Let's go Smile."

"Then your no better then them!" I yelled as he went down the stairs."You're running away from something only to face someone you deem weaker." he kept walking and I went after him. "Are you really going to stoop to their level after all these years? I hoped countless times that you'd come and end it all just as I always heard only to find out that your just a coward."

I knew that I was either crazy, insane, or extremely brave. Not many people would call after a killer and call him a coward especially if said killer was Jeff the Killer but for some reason I was angry that he had come a few times and just stood there in the dark watching. Tonight he came but was leaving right away, what was he running from? After my outburst I expected the madman to start laughing or look at me with a murderous look in which he did neither, instead he just stood there for a moment before finally looking behind him.

"You're either brave or extremely stupid to follow me. Most would be relieved to see me walk away with no damage done and yet you stand there calling me a coward." he slightly laughed but more out of amusement rather then insanity. I saw him pull out his knife but I was ready and pulled one out as well. He starred at the knife in my hand before returning his gaze to the dog, he whispered something and soon the dog was gone, Jeff climbed the staircase.

"At least tell me why you come?" I asked

"You already know the answer to that."

It was because of the bullies, my parents, I was suffering in life just as he had, just like all of his victims. He mad his why closer leaving only two or three steps between us and yet I stood my ground. If I was going to die by his hand then I at least wanted to know why I was still alive when he had so many chances to kill me before and yet he hadn't.

"Why am I still alive?" I asked

His eyes showed his confusion at my question, I understood it was probably a question he wasn't used to hearing, he was more used to hearing people beg for their lives before he slit their throats or stabbed them to death and yet here I was questioning him as to why I was still alive. He laughed again and locked his eyes on me and we just stood there looking at each other.

"What a stupid question. Wouldn't you rather.."
"Live? No I'd rather die a thousand deaths then continue on with this crap, Hell's going to be better then this."
"How do you know that Hell is like?"

How did I know? How could I possibly answer hims? It was simple, he should know the answer and yet he was asking anyways.

"You may think you want to die, that what I'm doing is right but your wrong. I'm killing people because I lost all control, because I had nothing left to live for. THis isn't justice I"m just a monster."
In that moment he wasn't Jeff the Killer he was Jeffery, in that moment he had gained some sanity as to who he was but it didn't seem to bother him at all. He pocketed his knife and he kept his hands inside his pockets, head bent low as though he lost some sort of fight. For some reason I stepped down and placed my hand reassuringly on his shoulder, it felt strange comforting the killer but that's not who he was in that moment. An awkward silence fell over the house but neither one f us moved not until Smile had returned and nudged against Jeff's leg. He bent down and petted the dog's head smiling as though he was remembering something that had made him happy.

I'll admit that it felt strange for a moment just standing there in front of the killer who everyone believed was a myth and yet what I saw was an innocent boy dealing with the consequences of the actions of his own bullies, could I end up like him too? Would the constant beatings and teasing drive me into insanity? Jeff finally stood up and walked downstairs with Smile but before leaving he turned around and within his psychopathic smile there was a genuine smile, he waved his hand behind hime as they left the house and I was left to pounder over the events of that night, the dog, Jeff, the argument, the silence. It stayed on my mind for days and days but just like before Jeff didn't come back and once i got over that night the bullying got worse. Their pranks became harmful, their rumors were wildfire, everything they did hurt me mire but the worse were the self-harm injuries, the binges, the cuts, the purges, the burns, everything we were taught about I had done to myself and why? It was my way of dealing with the pain, it was my way to feel like if I continued then I could not only escape the pain but also maybe meet their requirements and become someone they could respect.

It was an idea and soon the scars got darker, the wounds were deeper, more blood stained my hands, and the pain was extreme but it numbed the pain away from the bullies. Again tonight I went for my blade to fight back the pain only to find it wasn't there, none of the blades I hide throughout the house weren't anywhere to be found. The next week I felt terrible I missed the blood, the pain, the numbness that helped me get through the beatings but when I got home I found that the pills were gone as well where the fuck was everything? When I stormed into my room I was greeted by a pair of dark, un-blinking eyes, a figure in a bloodstained jacket, and a frown within a smile permanently carved there.