So I'm writing the story about Evy before I start my huge crossover one. This way I can write another sad story that all of you can cry through (you know you love it) and I can pretend like I'm working out my own issues (because the family shrink says if I don't then I'll "spend the rest of my life miserable, alone, and unable to trust or love anyone".) To think, I actually sit there and let this woman insult me.

Anyway, moving on. I'm taking this from a few hours after her mother's funeral.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed my other stories, hope you enjoy this one just as much. I guarantee that you'll be misty eyed by the end of this chapter, but if you don't like really depressing ones, give this a chance anyway, cause it's cool.


Evy Mercer sat on her new bed and stared around in shock. Gross, she thought, taking in the pink, fluffy decorations that filled the room her grandmother, Rosalee Winston, had made up for her. No wonder Mommy never brought me around here, there oughta be a law against this kind of abuse.

"Evy, dinner is in twenty minutes!" her grandmother's voice issued suddenly out of an intercom box by the bedroom door. "Please wash and change before it's ready."

Evy snickered. Change? What was she supposed to change? Her worn out punk/Goth clothing? Her hair that stuck out all over the place? Her orphan status? The fact that she was six years old and thought more like a teenager than a kid? Change sucks, she thought, walking over and clicking the off button on the intercom so that she wouldn't have to hear her grandmother's wheezy voice anymore.

Walking back over to the bed, Evy started to rummage through the stuff she'd been given from the apartment after her mother died. The CD collection that Jack and Grace had put together, books (mostly about old rock stars), a few photo albums, her dad's old guitar, the family snapshots that had covered the walls, all the clothes that had been in her room and a few things that had belonged to her mother, the old notebooks that had belonged to Jack, and two small leather-bound journals she'd never seen before.

Evy grabbed a Queen CD and popped it into her player before dropping onto her bed and opening the first journal. Tears filled her eyes as she read the first page.

THIS JOURNAL BELONGS TO:

Jack Lansid . . . as if you fucking care

It was her Dad's journal. He must have started it during one of his foster home stays. She didn't know much about her father's childhood, her mom had always said that it was too painful for Jack to talk about and that Evy was too young to understand anyway. I guess we'll see now, Evy thought bleakly. She flipped to the next page.

"Fuck you people, that's what I really wanna say. My social worker is making me write this shit down so that I can 'deal with and work through my issues'. God, I'd laugh my ass off if that asshole wasn't serious. Sorry to disappoint you Trevor Jonsen, but writing down the fact that I've been beaten and raped all through my first eleven years of life isn't going to help. If you're the kind of sick fuck who gets off on that, then you'll enjoy this, but if not, it's stupid. Wait, there is no 'if'. This is the stupidest fucking thing anyone's ever made me do. I'll be a good boy and write down all the gory details, but I'll be damned if I ever, EVER talk about this shit again."

Evy closed the journal. He sounded so angry, Jack had never been angry around her. Never once could she remember him raising his voice or having a harsh word for anyone. God how she missed him.

"Evy, why on earth are you still up here?" her grandmother demanded, throwing the bedroom door open. "Dinner was ready nearly ten minutes ago! Why did you ignore the intercom?"

"I didn't," Evy said, standing up and turning to face the old woman.

"Of course you did!" the old hag insisted. "I've been calling you and you don't come, that's called ignoring someone!"

"No it isn't," Evy replied coolly. "I turned that damn thing off, so it wasn't ignoring you, it was just not listening."

"How dare you?" Grandmother Winston snapped. "How dare you speak to me with such disrespect? If your mother were her she'd-"

"She'd tell you to get the fuck out of my room," Evy snarled, anger welling up inside her. "And she'd remind you that you aren't my mother, you're just the bitch grandmother who thought that everything my mom did was wrong. and she's tell your wrinkly ass to fucking knock before you came into the room, that's what she'd do! Now get the hell out of my room!"

The old woman drew herself up and gave Evy a disgusted look. "All of that obviously came from the useless idiot my Gracie took up with," she snapped. "I raised my daughter with manners, ones that drug-addict loser obviously killed in you!" Before Evy could reply, the woman stomped out of the room and slammed the door.

Evy was shaking with rage. Useless idiot? Drug-addict loser? Bullshit. Evy would be sure that her dear grandmother regretted those comments. She'd make sure the woman crawled on her knees to apologize.

Even though she was starving, Evy turned away from the door. She'd wait til the old bag went to bed and then go find something. She searched through her stack of CDs until she found the Rent soundtrack. She popped it into her CD player and pulled on one of Jack's old sweatshirts. Curling up on the bed, Evy turned the volume up and slipped on her headphones. Skipping forward, she felt tears start to fall as the opening bars of "One Song Glory" trilled into her ears.

One song, glory, one song

Before I go, glory

One song to leave behind

Jack had been writing her a song when he left. He said it would be his best work ever. Not that it really mattered to Evy. The simple fact that he wrote it for her would make it the best song ever.

Find one song, one last refrain, glory

From the pretty boy front man

Who wasted opportunities.

Jack had said once that he wasted the first twenty-two years of his life because he wasn't with Evy. When she'd pointed out that she was only three, he just smiled and said, "If I'd been paying attention, I would've realized that I'd been waiting for you my entire life.

One song, he had the world at his feet, glory

In the eyes of a young girl, a young girl

Find glory, beyond the cheap colored lights

Grace had once told Evy that Jack had been on his way to being a really famous singer and that he'd given it all up to come stay with them. That night when Evy asked her dad about it, he had laughed. "So long as you love me, what do I need with a fancy career?" Evy sobbed into the pillow, she could still hear him, still feel his arms holding her while he read a bedtime story to her.

One song, before the sun sets

Glory on another empty life

Time flies, time dies

Time didn't seem to fly anymore. It felt like it stopped the instant Evy knew that her daddy was never coming home.

Glory, one blaze of glory

One blaze of glory, glory

Did Jack have glory in Heaven? Was he happy even though he wasn't with her anymore? Evy's sobs got louder and she buried her face in the fluffy quilt, desperately trying not to scream as the sadness inside swelled.

Find, glory, in a song that rings true

Truth like a blazing fire, an eternal flame

Find one song, a song about love

Glory, from the soul of a young man

A young man

Old people died, Evy knew that. She understood that sometimes people left and never came back, but dying was what grandparents and pets did. Jack was too young to die. He wasn't old yet and Evy wasn't a grown-up, kids had to be grown-ups before their parents died. It was just the way things were, every kid knew that. My parents didn't know, Evy thought. If they had known that it was a rule, they would both still be alive, they wouldn't have left her.

Find the one song

Before the virus takes hold, glory

Like a sunset

One song

To redeem this empty life

Life felt empty now that her parents were gone. Evy wondered if she'd ever stop feeling like there was a big hole inside her.

Time flies
And then no need to endure anymore
Time dies

Jack and Grace didn't have to endure anymore. Evy knew they were both better off where they were. Jack wasn't thinking about the things he'd written in his diary. Grace wasn't staying in bed for weeks at a time only to suddenly wake up and think that Jack was still there, that he'd just run to the store. They were in Heaven with the angels. Evy sobbed even harder but she could feel herself starting to pass out. Sad, so sad . . . but so tired, so ready to dream and not think about what life was really like.

Just as she started to drift off, she could have sworn that she felt Jack's arms around her again.

- - - - -

When Evy woke up she felt like her head was splitting in half. Crying always did this to her, deep down Evy had always suspected that the reason she was in so much pain after she cried was because she wasn't supposed to cry.

"Right," she said, forcing herself to sit up. "No more crying then." She looked over at the pink, flower-shaped clock on the nightstand, nine o'clock in the morning. Running a hand over her face, Evy scrambled out of bed and grabbed some clothes before going into the powder blue bathroom her grandmother had "given" her. After a quick shower, Evy went back to her room and locked the door. She slipped Breaking Benjamin into her CD player and started going through the boxes full of her parents' stuff. Evy knew she wouldn't be staying in one place for too long until she could find her uncles, so it would be better to travel light.

All the pictures came out of their frames and were put into a large manila envelope. Most of the books would have to go, they would be too heavy to carry, besides, some of them were rare and were worth more in money than in memories. The CDs had to be thinned out as well. Taking all the clothes would be fine. If she could fit everything in two bags, she'd be good.

After about an hour, she'd done it. All her clothes were now (somewhat) neatly packed into a duffle bag while the few books, CDs and the pictures were in a backpack. Evy surveyed the remains dully, sadness creeping into her heart. Her dad's guitar would have to go, there was no way she'd be able to carry it around once she finally managed to hit the road. She knew that no one would try to help her find her father's family since he and Grace had never been married, but she had a name and a place and she would get there no matter what.

Her grandmother banged on the door. "Come out and eat something," she ordered in her high voice. Rolling her eyes, Evy shoved her duffle bag and backpack under the bed and got to her feet.

"Coming," she snapped, throwing open the door and stomping down to the dining room. Her grandmother was sitting at the table, anger twisting her face. She looked Evy up and down and her lip curled.

"Haven't you any more appropriate clothes to wear?" she asked. Evy looked down. Her jeans were old, but they didn't have holes in them and the hems were only a little frayed. The black KISS t-shirt she wore was clean as was her father's black hoodie she was wearing over them. The Converse sneakers she was wearing were new, Grace had gotten them for her about a week before she died. "What's wrong with this?" she asked.

Her grandmother sighed and gestured for Evy to sit. "Tomorrow I'll take you shopping," she said, ladling soup into her bowl and reaching out for Evy's. "We need to get you some proper clothing. Jeans and band t-shirts are not proper attire for a young lady."

Evy barely managed not to roll her eyes. Mom had told her about Grandmother's weird ideas of being proper. "Skirts and dresses and stupid little hats," Grace had told her with disgust. "I hated it and promised myself I would never make my daughter wear that crap unless she wanted to."

Evy tried to eat her soup in peace, but no sooner had she put the first spoonful into her mouth when her grandmother started in on her. "Don't hold the spoon like that, Evy." "Don't slurp the soup." "Run the spoon slightly along the side of the bowl so that it doesn't drip." Finally Evy threw down her spoon and glared up at the old woman.

"If you want me to eat, leave me alone," she snarled. "If you want to bitch at me, tell me and I'll leave the table."

"I will not have you take that tone with me!" her grandmother snapped. "You will be respectful when you speak to me!"

"Fuck you!" Evy yelled, slamming the bowl off the table so that it shattered on the polished wood floor. Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the dining room ignoring her grandmother's yelling. Fury was coursing through her like fire. Evy really had no idea why she was so angry, but her temper had been boiling just below the surface for the past few years and it was starting to explode.

Running out the front door, Evy slammed the front door shut, pausing on the front porch to yell "Up yours!" as her grandmother screamed at her to come back. Whirling around, Evy saw a group of kids standing on the sidewalk at the end of her grandmother's lawn. There were two girls that were maybe a year or two older than she was and two boys who both looked older. Evy grinned at them. "Fucking nag," she said, jerking her head towards the front door.

The kids grinned. "No shit," the oldest boy said. He looked about 10 and was carrying a black skateboard under his arm. "I'm Dray. This is Liz, Greg, and Mags."

Evy nodded at them. "Evy," she said, walking down the porch steps to stand with them.

"You moved in here for good?" the younger girl, Mags, asked.

Evy shook her head and gave them another grin. "I'm just passing through." She fell into step beside the kids as they headed down the street. "Where do you live?"

Greg shrugged. "Wherever," he said. "We're all runaways."

"Is it hard to live like that?" Evy asked, a plan starting to take shape in her mind.

"At first," said Liz. "But once you get used to it, it's not too bad."

Evy nodded and turned the conversation to other stuff. While she listened to the four kids talk about the places they'd been and the things they'd done, she wondered why they were so open to her. Most people would've been more careful of the things they said around younger kids like her. Looking down at her reflection in a puddle, Evy shrugged. She didn't look six, she might be able to pass for nine or ten just because she was taller than most six-year-olds.

When night fell, Evy made her way back to her grandmother's house. When she turned the corner, she ducked back behind a large oleander bush. Police cars were parked in front of her grandmother's house as well as the grey car she recognized as her social worker's. "What the hell are they doing here?" she muttered. She smelled her breath and cursed the fact that she'd taken that swallow of booze before she headed back here, but there was nothing for it now. Gritting her teeth, Evy hitched an innocently surprised look onto her face and walked up the street to her grandmother's house.

"Hey Ms. Critchon," Evy said, walking up to her social worker. "What brings you here?"

Ms. Critchon glared down at her. "You should know perfectly well what brought me here, Evy," she snarled. "Running off like that, my God what were you thinking?" Grabbing Evy by the arm, the woman marched her past the police and into the house.

"It's alright officers," she said, casting Evy a withering look. "I've got our little runaway."

A fat officer with thick blonde hair and a fluffy moustache smiled kindly down at Evy. "You need to be more careful, sweetie," he said. "There're a lot of bad people out there and your grammy would be really sad if something happened to you."

Evy fixed the man with a mischievous grin. "Mister, I am one of those weirdoes," she said. Jerking her arm out of Ms. Critchon's grasp, Evy swept past the policemen and went up to her room. "Call the cops on me, you old bitch," she hissed, fury twisting her face. "You'll regret that for sure."

- - - - -

Two weeks, several temper tantrums, packs of stolen cigarettes, and $1000 worth of brand new clothes cut to shreds later, a supremely pissed off Ms. Critchon was dragging Evy out of the San Francisco Court building. "Jesus," Evy said loudly, struggling against the woman. "That's all a bunch of lies, I didn't do anything to her!"

"A likely story!" Critchon snapped. "Then explain why we found cigarette butts and the scissors that went missing from you're Grandmother's sewing room in your bedroom? Planted them did she? Trying to frame you? Wanted to get rid of you?"

"You said it not me!" Evy shouted.

"Stop it!" the social worker yelled, grabbing Evy by the shoulders and shaking her. "You better shape up, young lady," Critchon said sternly. "If you keep behaving this way you'll never have a real family. You'll just be moved from foster home to foster home until you're eighteen and you'll never really belong anywhere. Is that what you want?" Evy glared down at the cracked sidewalk. "Is it?" repeated Critchon, shaking Evy again.

"I have a family," Evy snarled, shoving the woman away from her. "And if you people would just listen to me, we'd be able to find them and you wouldn't have to worry about me anymore!"

Ms. Critchon rolled her eyes. "Again with your supposed father's family," she said scathingly, pushing the button to unlock her car doors. "We have no proof that this Jack Mercer was really your father and we sure aren't going to go badger men with their own lives about some little girl that might not even have any relation to them."

Evy looked up, ready to smart off to the stupid woman, vent some more of her fury on someone else, but something brought her up short. Jack was standing there, glaring down at the woman. "Don't listen to her," he said, his voice taunt with anger. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. You wouldn't be a bother to your uncles, they'll love you." He glided forward, right through the car to Evy's side. Wrapping his arm around her, he whispered: "Find them, Evy. Find them." And then he was gone and only a tingling in Evy's shoulders remained.

"You coming or should I just leave you here for some bum to pick up?" Ms. Critchon snapped. Shaking her head as though to clear it, Evy climbed into the back seat. As they drove back to her grandmother's house, Evy ran through a list of things she'd done to make sure she'd be ready to go. Everything she was taking was squeezed into her bags and she's sold everything else that she'd gotten from her mother's apartment. Now, two thousand dollars was hidden underneath the insert in one of Evy's worn out sneakers. When the time came to run, she'd be ready.

- - - - -

Jack stepped back from the pond in his Heaven and dropped to the ground. Whoever that horrible woman was, she deserved nothing but Hell for the way she was treating Evy. "Fuck lady," he muttered angrily to no one. "She's a six year old who's lost both her parents, cut her a fucking break."

Getting to his feet, Jack walked back to the edge of the pool and knelt again to see what his brothers were up to. It was strangely addictive to him, watching the world continue without him. Even though he knew that the world kept turning even though someone died, he hadn't been ready for it to continue after his death. The idea that Evy still had to go to school, that Jerry still had to raise his kids, that Angel had to report back to the Marines, that Bobby had to go to work . . . it all seemed somehow wrong to him.

"I miss life," he whispered, his breath making little waves across the image of his brothers sitting at the dinner table. "I really fucking miss life."


So, does it rock? Is it crap? Should I give up writing and become a hermit in the mountains who steals children from Wilderness Jamborees and eats their liver?

Anyway, next chapter coming soon.

Review bitches, or I shalt smitith thee with mine Keyboard of Doom!