A/N The rest of this story has been in third person, but I had put this story in first person for the sake of the content in this chapter. I believe it will continue to stay in the first person point of view until the last chapter, which it will then go back to the third person point of view. Hopefully this doesn't bother anyone too much

Read and Review, and I hope you enjoy!

Calm down. Breathe. Remember. What are your surroundings?

I'm in my living room. That much is obvious. The lights are off and so is the television. Nothing will turn on. It is pitch black and I cannot see a thing. Jack is in my arms, crying, and he is shaking and his breathing is erratic.

Then there is the voice. The voice that Jack calls his "nightmare". I feel like I am going crazy, hearing bodyless voices, but Jack can hear it, and it is scaring him, so I will fight this, this thing.

How touching the voice said. And to think that I thought you did not care Aster.

I jumped. How did this thing know my name? It did say that Jack has mentioned me. Maybe that's how? I don't know.

"Who are you," I screamed into the air. I probably looked like an idiot, screaming at nothing.

Jack already told you, child. Did you not listen? It chuckled, and it sent shivers down my spine. I hated it.

"I want you to tell me," I replied. I wanted him to tell me everything that Jack couldn't. He shuffled closer to me, and I continued to hold him.

Why? Don't you trust your brother? If that party of yours is any indication, you are the epitome of a loving brother.

I balled Jack's hair in my fist, and his shirt in the other. This voice knew things. He knew how I felt, how Jack felt, he knew a lot. And he knew what you get to me. He knew what would push my buttons.

But I wouldn't let it get to me. I couldn't. Jack needed me. I held in my anger. I held in my rage. I needed to stay calm. For Jack.

"I trust him. And I don't trust you."

Then why do you want me to tell you who I am? You do not trust me, so I could say anything.

"Then tell me what you want," I said. It was silent. He wouldn't talk, and I did not know whether to feel scared or relieved. The lights were still off, and Jack was still in my arms.

I am fear, the voice suddenly said. There was no emotions behind the words, but it still scared me. Maybe it was because he said it without warning. Maybe it was because there was no emotion with the voice.

Or maybe it was because it was still here, and there was no way for me to pretend that it isn't real.

I am why kids cannot sleep at night. I am the reason children have to sleep with their parents at night. I am anyone's worst nightmare.

I was still looking up into the dark. I don't know why, but that was where I felt like I needed to look. I didn't talk. I didn't want to interrupt it until I knew it was done speaking.

Some have called me death, but that is not who I am. Death is a much kinder person than me.

While still looking up, I started to stand with Jack in my arms. He started to unfold with me until we both were on our feet. He was shaking, and I thought that the only reason he was standing was because I was holding him. I want to be ready to run if I had to.

But what is scarier than death? Knowing that you should be dead.

His voice had gotten tighter and Jack stopped shaking. I still held him, hopefully not too hard.

Jack, does dear Aster know why you are here? Why you are not with your own family?

"This is my family," Jack whispered. I was barely able to hear him from how quiet he was.

Really? Did this woman birth you? Were you with them from the very beginning? I do not believe so.

"This is my family," Jack said again, still as quiet as before.

"He is my brother," I yelled. I don't know who this thing thinks it is, but he is my brother. I don't care if we are biological. We were raised together. We love each other. We are brothers.

Your birth parents boy. The voice started to sound annoyed. Does Aster know why you are not with them?

"I do," I said immediately. He wasn't going to get the upper hand. It was silent for a moment.

Interesting. Tell me then, why is poor Jack not with his birth parents?

"A fire. There was a fire in his house. It killed his parents, not him." I smirked. This voice was not going get the better of me.

So you do know. Now tell me, what caused the fire? Or better yet, who caused it?

I was taken aback by the question. Who caused it? I thought it would have been an accident. An unfortunate event. But, I could be wrong.

Jack, care to tell him? Jack was silent, and his arms grabbed the front of my shirt. Come on Jack, do not be shy. He held tighter each time the voice talked. COME ON!

"Shut up," I screamed. "Just shut up!" I wanted him to stop. I know Jack wanted him to stop. "We don't have to ans-"

"It was you," Jack said. I stopped yelling mid-sentence.

"What," I asked.

What was that? Speak up.

"It was you Pitch." Pitch? Who was Pitch? Was it the voice? I guess it was, because once Jack said that, it laughed whole heartedly.

Yes Jack, you remembered. I am flattered.

"How could I forget you? You haven't left me alone since that day." Jack's voice was getting louder, closer to a normal tone of voice, but it was shaking. Each word seemed like agony to get out for him.

I have been with you longer. And I will not leave you. I will not leave you until you are with me.

Dead.