"You're crazy!" screamed Annalise.

Then something strange happened. The rabid pounding on the bathroom door completely stopped. For a few moments, Annalise Shumacher felt the unease of one waiting for the next wave of aggression to come. But after a minute or so she began to wonder if by some miracle Malcolm had left.

She glanced at the door knob to see if the lock was still set before lifting herself from the tile. The floor creaked loudly as as she took her first step and Annalise froze, holding her breath with a dreaded anticipation.

After waiting a few seconds, she was surprised by the continued silence. What is he doing? Annalise wondered whether the nightmare was over? Had Malcolm, her Malcolm, finally come back?

As she inched closer to the door she began to hear a peculiar sound coming from down the hall. The sound became clearer with each tip-toed step until she finally realized what she was hearing.

"Mal?" she began, timidly placing her hands on the door. "Mal are you...crying?"

"Leave me alone," he responded.

Annalise was confused as to how he could suddenly sound so dejected. She couldn't have imagined the past five minutes when everything that she had known about her life was ripped apart. She hadn't imagined being chased up the stairs and into the guest bathroom by the guy she had thought was her adorably sweet boyfriend. She hadn't imagined cowering against the bathtub while he beat at the door like a pack of hungry wolves. She hadn't just imagined that had she?

No. It had been real, very real! But why was Malcolm crying? What could he possibly have to cry about after what he did?

"This isn't funny, Mal," Annalise shot back. "Why are you doing this?"

"Leave me alone!" Malcolm's scream seemed closer to the maddened tone he had been using earlier. "I'm not crazy the crazy one..."

"Then what do you call all this? What do you call stabbing me with a fork?!" Annalise returned, her eyes glancing over the four puncture marks on the top of her hand. She balled up her hands and leaned her head against the door. Her eyes watered as she recalled the moment Malcolm leapt from the table and charged at her. His coal eyes were angry but distant. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"You're the one who is doing this!" Malcolm's voice was suddenly closer. Annalise nervously backed away from the door.

"I didn't do anything," she replied.

"Are you joking?" Malcolm went on. Hurt had replaced the anger in his voice again. "You're joking...? Do you really not know?"

Annalise stopped her retreat. "Know what?"

She heard his footsteps stop short of the door. "Annalise, why do you think you haven't heard from Sawyer since Monday? Why do you think that is?"

Sawyer Stevens, the senior who had made every day a living hell for Annalise, hadn't been seen since the weekend. The girls in her clique all seemed to think she was skipping midterms to be with her college boyfriend. It was stupid and selfish, everything that Sawyer was. But the sudden jump in Malcolm's tone made her question whether the other girls were right.

"Sawyer's probably still with Brent," she replied. "She's been at Georgetown since Saturday."

"Has she?"

Malcolm's reply sent a cold streak up her spine. "What did you do, Mal?"

Part 2