CHAPTER ONE

"DON"T CALL ME MEATBALLHEAD!" a 7-year-old bellowed, shaking with anger. She growled at her blue-eyes companion. Actually, he was a year her senior, with ebony hair than hung over his deep blue eyes of mischief. He loved his best friend but not as much as he loved to tease her. He was in a fit of laughter awaiting her ever-amusing response. Last Christmas he pissed her off so much that she pushed him on the snow and broke his arm. It hurt like hell! But she never failed to entertain him.

He adored her and here was his perfect opportunity to bug her: she had a new hairstyle. So naturally, he attacked it. Could you blame the little feller? His best friend's hairstyle resembled meatballs with two big buns and hair over flowing from each. Especially since she was blonde and red bands held her hair. But he didn't expect her to react the way she did. He'd never hurt her like that. As he laughed at her, her eyes welled up in little crystal tears and she turned as they began to cascade down her cheeks. She was crying. He made his best friend cry! She ran across the street to her house on the other side and banged the door as she got inside. He was still in awe.

"Darien, time for dinner!" a petite 33-year-old called from the doorway to her son. He barely responded. "Aw, honey, she doesn't hate you, at least she won't forever. We'll go over to see after we…" she thought intently at what she could use to distract him, temporarily, "go to the mall!" His eyes brightened a bit. He loved the mall, especially the toy store. As he walked to his mommy, he turned one last time to look at Serena's bedroom window. "Com'on, Dear," she said, gently ushering her son with her hand.

"Yay! What's for lunch, Mommy?" he looked up at her again, still a little sad.

"Hmmm, does whatever you want sound good?" she questioned, smiling at the smaller duplicate of her husband.

"This is the 7 o'clock news and here we are reporting a tragic accident on Flora Avenue…" the reporter began in her pink and black checkered outfit, "…where a black Volkswagen was directly hit by a speeding delivery van. There is one confirmed fatality: Doyle Shields. His wife and son: Emily and Darien Shields have been hospitalized and are in critical condition…"

"Oh my…" a brown haired woman exclaimed. "Kenji! Kenji! Come! Oh my…"

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Serena cried running into the tv room.

"Yeah? Why the yelling?" he averted his attention to the television where the reporter gave further detail of the incident and where a picture of his co-partner in his business was posted. "Doyle," was all he said and he sighed heavily. "Let's go, Karen." He hurried to get his coat and his wife took Serena and her new-born, Sammy to the car.

"What's wrong, Mommy? What's happened to Uncle Doy?" Her mother smiled weakly and sadly at her daughter's nickname for their close friend.

"Honey, I'll explain on the way. Just get into the car," she said while hastily wiping the tears that had escaped her hazel eyes. As they drove away from the house Serena wondered what was really going on. 'I wonder if Dari's alright.'

The hospital was complete confusion. It was crowded with reporters, friends and family. Everyone was trying to get information, especially the reporters. They bombarded her parents with questions they couldn't answer. Serena used this time to disappear, in search of her best friend. She figured he had to be in one of those rooms. She walked until she saw a door ajar. She peered through it.

"DARI! You're fine!" she ran to him, hugging him tightly even though he was covered with tubes in every direction. He jumped out like he was in a deep sleep.

"Ah, where am I? Where's Mommy and Daddy? What's happened while I was sleep?" he was full of questions and is desperation scared Serena. She backed away slowly. "They didn't make it? They didn't make it!" His face fell and she was even more confused.

"Serena!" in the doorway stood Karen, puffy eyes filled with worry. Her eyes moved over to the sight of the newly awakened distressed boy. "Oh Darien! Are you…you poor baby." She was at his side in an instant and she hugged him carefully and protectively. Then doctors flooded the room and some reporters attempted to follow. However, security was close behind and they were unpleasantly ushered away. Serena curled into a ball as the waiting room scenario repeated itself. The confusion of the room was unbearable to the little girl but the utter loneliness and petrifaction of the little boy was overwhelming. His eyes were so distant…

The double funeral was gloomy and depressing. Serena had barely sighted Darien since his release from the hospital. Then at the funeral she was restricted from talking to him. His eyes were still distant and looked lonesome. He never cried, at least she didn't see him cry. On the contrary, Serena was drowning in tears. Her Auntie Emmy and Uncle Doy had gone to some place where they couldn't talk to her or touch her. Strange enough, although she could see them right before her eyes, she knew something was different. She glanced over to Darien throughout the ceremony. He only returned a glance once and his eyes had transformed into narrow slits before he quickly turned away. She missed the laughing eyes he had when he teased her, even the time he teased her about her hairstyle. It was better than this. Much better!

A week later he left without a word to her. She saw him go in the car and for an instant he had a pleading look in his eyes. He didn't want to go, it was obvious. But she could never do anything. She had lost three people in an instant: two to the dead and one to the living. Gone without a trace.