Decemeber Story-not yet titled. pt1

        Sometimes the truth of something can be more horrifying than the darkest of nightmares...Stacey Gallimore found it out the hard way. She had many nightmares of police coming through her door and taking her off in her pajamas to prison for the rest of her life, but none terrified her as much as waking up knowing that she had done, or at the very least was made to have done what she did.
Stacey was a normal, college senior who was looking forward to life after college. She’d be graduating, with honors, as a psychology major. She didn't have any minors, but had taken classes in just about every subject one might wish to study. She had taken computers, sculpture art, photography, spanish and french, and philosophy, to name a few. She was a lively student who could never spend too much time in one area alone. she always wanted to know and learn more, and for this reason she was getting quite possibly the easiest degree there is to get out there in the college world.
The intellect that she was, however, caused her to hang around the sort of people who don't go to college parties and get drunk. Her group of friends were all graduating to become respected members of society, like doctors and lawyers, and even a few nanotechnologists. Sophia was her best friend though, also very intelligent but nobody gave this any thought as Sophia was deep into the paranormal. In fact, she would go into long bouts of not-caring what happened because, as she saw it, nothing physical was real.
Sophia and Stacey had met in their senior year of high school, while visiting the college they would later attend together. The two hit it off really quickly, throughout the day tour through the campus, and by lunchtime had signed each other up as to-be roommates. Sophia was quiet when you first met her, but after a bit she would talk to you, and it was always a most thought provoking and interesting discussion at hand. She was small, topping out at four feet, six and a half inches. She knew this exactly, because during other teens' growth spurts, when they grew inches, she grew quarters of an inch, and her dad had kept up an accurate measuring until she graduated high school. The mark had never changed from ninth grade on, regardless how many times they measured her against the wall.
So Soph, as Stacey was fond of calling her, reminded you of a slightly mature child, although anyone who talked with her would very quickly forget that first impression. No child would stare off into nothing and then suddenly start talking about such simple and yet infinitely complex concepts such as time. Sometimes, Sophia would hold to the idea that time is an illusion. Sometimes, she held to the idea that we were only in existence because of time. As if the fact that is was May 2, 2059 meant that Sophia had to die, and that Stacey, as young and hopeful as any senior in college could be, had to kill her.