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I slowly made my way to my bedroom, trying to not to think about the kid in my school: Gabe. He's so... Strange. I pushed my thoughts aside and slowly crawled into my bed, shut my light out, set my alarm clock for school in the morning, and then I slowly drifted to sleep. Now, I usually don't have trouble sleeping, but... something was interfering with my dream... some sound...

I suddenly woke up, not hearing anything at first, just my own thoughts jumbling in my head. But after a few seconds of the incessant incoherent thoughts, I heard a laugh. I knew that laugh, but I couldn't put my finger on it. After a few seconds, I realized where that laugh was from... It was Gabe's laugh. I should of known... I'd know that panic inducing, manic-like laugh anywhere. But how? This can't be happening, I have to be dreaming... but I knew I wasn't.

The laugh was coming from under my bed. I felt my body shake and my heart beat irregularly. I... I... I don't know why, but somehow I knew this was going to happen. But I thought I was just paranoid. I gained all the courage I could, bent over my bed, looked under and saw a little tape recorder on repeat. The laugh was louder and even more frightening now. I grabbed it and shut it off. I calmed down a little, but I knew I wasn't... safe, not yet.

I sat in bed for a few minutes trying to regain some rational thinking, when I heard an off-key whistle coming from the living room. It wasn't loud, but it was very distinct. I've never been this scared. Never. I always knew that Gabe was a psychopath, but I couldn't fathom how crazy he really was. I slowly climbed out of bed, turned my light on, and headed out of my room. As I approached the living room, the whistle became louder and even creepier. I saw a figure on my couch, and I knew I had to get over my fears and somehow get him out of here. As I approached him, the whistle sounded like.. It wasn't even coming from him. But I kept approaching him, and he was right in front of me. Something wasn't right, though. The whistle wasn't coming from there. It was... It was coming... well I didn't know yet.

I reached to touch Gabe on the shoulder, and when I touched him... when I touched him he fell over, and his face was looking at me, and there was a big smile on his face. But... But... his eye sockets were empty... and he wasn't moving. It's like, now I know this might sound crazy, but it's like his body was a shell and there was something hiding inside of that shell. His "shell's" odd smile was still formed onto his face, like it was glued there. And the whistle. I could still hear the whistle, it was coming from... under the couch. Nonetheless, I lost all of my rational thinking and ran.

I don't know what happened after that, but I woke up a few days later in a mental hospital. Which is where I'm currently writing this. I know no one will believe me, but I have to get this out. I still hear that whistle sometimes, seeping through the barred window of my cell. I hear it every night. And I always close my eyes and try to fall asleep, because I don't want to know what's on the other side of that window. I don't know how long I can take this, but I'm planning my suicide.

Please, if you're reading this, do NOT mess with Gabe.

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