She woke up, her whole body covered in an ice cold sweat. Her mouse blonde hair stuck to the sides of her pale white face and the back of her neck. She shivered as the memory of the dream that had woken her up began to fade.  The whole thing had seemed so real, like it was actually happening, but the teenager knew that was impossible. There was no way she could see what was happening in a place so far away from where she was sleeping. It had all just been a terrifying dream.<br/>She sat up in her bed and switched on the lamp that rested on the bedside table to her right. The bright light illuminated the entire room, revealing the dark blue walls and grey carpeting. Clothes laid scattered all across the room and on the end of the girl's bed. Hanging out of the laundry basket by the door, was a shirt splattered with red stains. She stared at the shirt, wondering how the bloodstains had gotten there, but the answer never found its way into her imaginative mind. She walked over to the basket and picked up the shirt, touching the stains carefully as she did so.  They felt wet and cold underneath her warm hands, just like the way fresh paint felt before it was applied to the walls.  Since she was too awake to go back to sleep, she decided it would be the right time to wash the stained shirt. The girl sauntered down the hall towards the laundry and threw the shirt into the washing machine with a few other clothes she had found on the ground along the way.  As she turned on the machine, the rustic smell of blood began to envelop the room as the water flowed into the appliance and  spun the clothes through it. The girl then realised that the stains on the shirt had been blood, but the smell had already begun drifting up to her nostrils. She felt a twinge of hunger and a sudden urge to suck the blood from the shirt, but she couldnâ€™t explain why. Her hands curled up and her nails scraped themselves against her skin as she tried to stop herself from opening the machine. Her efforts failed to work and she was about to open the washing machine and grab the shirt when she heard the footsteps of someone coming toward her from behind. She turned around to see her sister staring at her, an angry expression on her face.<br/>"Michellan? What are you doing?" She asked, wiping the sleep out of her eyes.<br/>"I was just washing my shirt. It had blood all over it." Michellan answered.<br/>"Okay then. But, why are you washing your shirt at three in the morning?" Her sister then asked. Her mood has switched from tired to angry, and Michellan wondered how angry her sister could get without becoming a danger to her.<br/>"I couldnâ€™t sleep." Michellan lifted herself up onto the top of the washing machine. The tantalizing smell of the blood had started to disappear, which left her a little bit disappointed. "Did I wake you up?"<br/>"Obviously."  Her sister dropped her arms and walked off towards the lounge room. "Now I donâ€™t think I can get back to sleep."<br/>"Sorry, Lizabeth." Michellan shouted loud enough for her sister to hear.<br/>When the washing machine had completed its rounds, Michellan slid off it and began to unload the clothes. The shirt was now completely stain free, but the inside of the washing machine was covered with the red liquid. Michellan scraped a finger across the side of the appliance and licked it clean. She didnâ€™t know why she did it, it just smelt so mouth watering and addictive. Her pupils dilated to the size of olives, turning her eyes into large black beetles. She lifted herself over the appliance, scraped more blood off the sides and proceeded to devour it like a ravenous animal.<br/><br/>Lizabeth sat on the cushioned seat that leaned against the large balcony window. She stared out at the suburban streets of Western Sydney and watched the lights begin to switch off one by one. From down the hall, she could hear the faint noise of  a metal object being shoved around, but didnâ€™t think much of it. She stared at the clock on the wall opposite the window. She had been sitting there for almost an hour and the sun would start to rise soon. Lizabeth was about to turn away from the view of the open suburban road when she heard the faint sound of a car turning into her street. She watched as the vehicle moved closer to her home and identified the vehicle as a yellow Mercedes Benz. Though it was four in the morning, the car was driven by a young man about her age. She continued to watch as he parked his car in the drive way of a house just down the street and stepped out of the driver's side doorway. Lizabeth couldnâ€™t see his face clearly, but she did know that the house he was now opening the door to didnâ€™t belong to him. The bone coloured house his car was parked at belonged to a small family who had gone on holiday for a few months. It was unknown to Lizabeth whether or not the family had hired a house sitter or not, but if they had, he was about a week too late. She continued to stare at the house as the windows began to become a darker black than usual. It took her a while, but it finally registered that the windows were being covered from the inside with a type of black cloth. It became harder for her to see inside the house, so she eventually gave up looking and stepped off the window couch. She felt hungry, so she decided to have her breakfast earlier than usual.<br/>"Michellan? Do you want anything to eat?" She yelled up the stairs as she stepped into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and searched though it before Michellan even had a chance to answer her question.<br/>Lizabeth stared up at the ceiling, waiting for an answer, but it never came, so she placed one of the packets of raw meat she had gotten out back into the fridge before opening the other one she had gotten out for herself. She placed it on a plate she had pulled out from the dishwasher and drizzled the blood left in the packet all over the meat, licking her lips as she did. Lizabeth then sat down at the dining room table as her eyes turned a hazel colour and sunk her teeth into the raw meat, blood streaming down her chin and arms, landing in red droplets on the white dish. She ripped through the meat as she devoured it, leaving nothing behind. When she had consumed the last morsel of raw meat, she licked the plate clean and placed it back into the dishwasher. Blood stuck to the ends of her long brown hair and it plastered itself to her neck as she sat back down, her eyes returning to their usual blue colour as she did.