~AN: Dreamian and Mr. D'Salle are my own creations. I don't own Charlie. That one is Mr. King's. * denotes a character's thought.~
Charlie attended anger-management classes every
Wednesday night. She had to. Living on campus among so many
people…so much stress. She didn't want another incident like the
Shop to occur.
Seated beneath a large oak, Charlie watched her
fellow classmates hurry off to whatever party was happening that Friday
night. She never went to any of the campus parties. Too much
risk. Plus, she enjoyed being alone every once in a while.
It was autumn, Charlie's favorite season.
The temperature was always perfect for sitting outside and watching the
sun go down. She reveled in the warm colors of the changing leaves.
Such beauty…Charlie sometimes felt she did not deserve it.
*Daddy would love it here,* she thought sadly.
*I wish he were here.*
Charlie sighed, letting herself drift to sleep beneath
the dancing leaves of the oak tree.
The room was a drab gray, barely reflecting what
little light came through the dirty windows. It was a small room
with just enough space for a cot and a small desk. There was no chair.
Dreamian had broken it several months earlier.
Dreamian sat in the center of the room, starring
at the blank gray walls. His eyes, an odd shade of gold, though seemed
to be focused on the wall, watched something far beyond the confines of
the room. They moved quickly from side to side as if looking for
something. Any random person would have thought him to be nuts; just
another lunatic watching imaginary images. But Dreamian wasn't nuts.
At that moment, he was standing among a constantly moving crowd, though
he remained in the bleak room. Faces and expression filled his vision
briefly before disappearing amongst the sea of people.
Dreamian growled, his patience running short.
Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people had walked past him within the
six hours he had been searching and still no sign of her. Mr. D'Salle
had said she would be at the campus. Then why couldn't he find her?
"Dreamian," a voice called from the other side of
the door.
*Well, speak of the devil.*
"Any luck on the girl?"
Dreamian shook himself from the trance, long black
hair brushing against his bare shoulders. One of these days, he would
teach that man not to interrupt him like that.
"No, Mr. D'Salle. No sign of her anywhere.
Are you sure you gave me the right campus?"
Whispers erupted beyond the door. Dreamian
only smiled, slipping back into the trance. He would find the MacGee
girl. No matter the cost.