Sup? I haven't written anything in awhile. Thought I'd give it a shot again. I don't own the characters, so don't sue and blah blah blah. Do we really have to put that on top of very story? Anyway...here is my latest invention...

The Crow & the Butterfly

Chapter One

Gossip spread like wildfire in this small town. If Mike Newton would kiss Jessica Stanley at noon in the corner of his shop, his great grandmother, who rarely ventures out of her house, would hear about it by 12:05. So when I rode my bike to the grocery store early Saturday morning, it didn't surprise me that four middle aged women were crowding the aisles to talk about the latest scandal. Last week it was all about Jasper Whitlock being spotted without his wedding ring. This week, we had a new resident.

I immediately began to question this mysterious person's sanity. Who, in their right mind, would move here? This place shouldn't even be on maps. It's barely a town. It's a itty bitty corner in the state of Washington. Then I heard the additional details.

"Prison. Real prison!" Ms. Cope said. "With security guards in watchtowers, barbed wire fences and plated glass in visiting areas!"

Mrs. Greene covered her mouth. "Oh my. I wonder what he did."

Mrs. Knox got a panicked look on her face. "I'm goin' to see Officer Swan about this! What if it involves," she quickly glanced around and whispered, "little kids? First bullies, now predators? A mother can only handle so much!"

"No, no," Ms. Cope protested. "Nothin' like that." She leaned in close to her circle of gossipers. "He killed a man."

Miss Cox, the crazy spinster, gasped. "That's awful. He clearly doesn't have the Lord in his heart."

"This is a bad man, ladies," Mrs. Knox said. "I say we get him out of here, before he kills one of us."

The women nodded and discussed plans to get rid of our newest neighbor.

I stood in front of the soups and furrowed my brows. I must've looked like I was trying really hard to decide if I'd get chicken noodle or beef. An ex-convict was moving here? Really? Cool.

I proceeded to shop, occasionally glancing at the doors whenever someone stepped inside. Maybe the new guy would be the next one to enter. Everyone's gotta eat, even bad guys. I tried to imagine him in my head. I bet he was old. Probably 60's or so. Who'd go to prison for murder and not serve a long sentence? He probably had a lot of tattoos and long greasy hair. Maybe a pierced nose. And a boyfriend named Bubba back in the slammer.

Ms. Cope stepped over when she noticed my presence. "Oh, Bella, dear. Have you heard the news?"

I didn't even have time to reply before she repeated the whole story. As soon as she was finished, she spotted another person and moved on to tell them. I went back to shopping.

As I was deciding which brand of tampons to buy, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over to see Mrs. Knox standing there.

"Do you know anything about this?" she asked.

I turned back to the shelf of tampons.

"About what?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you get smart with me, Miss Swan. You know what. That disgusting killer across the street. Does your daddy know what he is?"

Without looking at her, I calmly replied, "Doesn't your precious book tell you not to judge others?"

"How could such a good hearted man have such a heathen as a daughter?"

I shrugged. "Guess it was a gift from above."

I peeked at her. Her face had turned pink and she pressed her lips in a tight line. She hated me since I was 5. I was a 'bad seed' in her eyes. A rebellious brat. I was tempted to grab a box of condoms in front of her. Just to see the shock and disgust on her face.

From a distance, I could see Ms. Cope retracing her steps and head directly for us. I groaned. I really didn't want to be stuck in the middle of a store to talk about killers while PMSing and craving an ice cream sandwich. They were in my cart. I could see them, and I wanted one. I didn't feel like talking to a bunch of bored women with too much time on their hands, but I was stuck. In the back of my head, I wished the ex-convict would burst in and cause everyone to scatter so I could escape.

Twenty minutes later, I stuffed the grocery bags in my bookbag and jumped on my bike. I didn't have a car. I had an irrational fear of driving. Every time I got behind the wheel, I imagined myself driving off a cliff or into a ditch or a house. Sixteen year old kids thought it was embarrassing if they didn't have a license. Imagine being twenty-two and not having one. I also lived in my dad's basement. Talk about a dream come true! I could be the poster child for success.

I could've gone straight home, but I took a quick detour to enjoy the wet scenery. It just happened to be in the exact location the new guy moved to. It was a coincidence, that's all.

Drops of rain plopped down on my head, making my frizzy hair wet and stringy. I didn't let that stop me, though. I really wanted to see the...new mailbox in front of the Blacks' house. It was also the house next to the newly purchased one. Also a coincidence.

I turned onto the quiet street. There was a U-Haul parked along the curb of the ex-con's house. A silver volvo was in the driveway. Maybe his grandmother was visiting? I rode past the house, causally trying to peer in the windows. The curtains were wide open, but all I could see was the other side of the wall. No furniture. No boxes. No killer.

When I reached the end of the street, I turned around. That wasn't the way to my house. Again, upon passing the recently occupied house, I stared at it. Nothing. Nada. Not a sign of human life. At least not from my point of view, but I could only see the front of the house and into the empty living room.

A horn honked, my head snapped forward and I saw a car a few feet in front of me. My heart pounded in my chest. I could've died. If that driver hadn't been paying attention, it could've hit me and killed me. Cars were killing machines. Evil fuckers.

The car window rolled down and Jacob Black stuck his head out. "Trying to get yourself killed?"

I stuck my middle finger up at him. It was okay. We were friends. That was how people showed affection these days.

He returned the gesture. He was so sweet.

Jacob pulled into his driveway after I moved out of the way, and when I glanced at his neighbor's house, I saw the front door open. A tall man with reddish-brown hair stepped out and onto his porch. He squinted his eyes at Jacob's car, and then looked at me. He couldn't have been older than 30. He was more like 25. The killer's brother? Or butler? Pool boy?

We were having a staring contest when Jacob leaped out of his car and jogged toward me.

"What are you doing?" Jacob asked, and then looked at the dude standing on the porch. "I wouldn't make direct eye contact if I were you. Word on the street is he just got out of prison."

It took me a second to absorb what he said. I turned my head toward Jacob. "What? That's him? The kid with a staring problem?"

"That's him," Jacob confirmed.

I looked back to see the alleged murderer walk back inside his house, almost slipping along the way. "Talk about anti-climatic. I was expecting some big guy who could throw semi-trucks and make wolves tremble."

Jacob looked down at me. "Real life is disappointing, eh?"

"Very." I sighed. "I have to go home to eat my ice cream sandwich and put a new tampon in."

To continue or not to continue?