Part One: Stereo Hearts

Just Another Dusty Record on the Shelf

Cheerio got another shipment of notepads from her father. They had little pink bears on the front of them and flowers and butterflies on the corners of the pages. This initially began as something that he did for her when she was stressed and couldn't figure out what she wanted to say. He told her, just write it all down, even if it is incoherent and that way, if you really want to share it with me, you'll have already found the words…" But, he had never actually read a single thing that she had written on the pages of notepads and after she tried to commit suicide, these were her best friend.

He sent them in care packages with felt tip pens (the only pens that she was allowed to have) and other items deemed safe in the institution. They picked the baskets apart before ever giving them to her. That was fine. All she wanted were the notepads. She had chronicled and doodled her entire time in this place via notepads. She put a number in the corner of the cover and continued one wherever she left off. Someday, if she made it big or became important - someone could use these to look at who she was at this point. "Because, my life is still not yet over," she wrote on the front page of her newest notepad.

"He's gonna be coming here," she heard somebody say while watching TV and she turned around to see what they were talking about. There was that boy on TV, again. Steven Evans. He had killed a white pride motivational speaker/author/counselor and it must have finally been determined that he was criminally insane… Or whatever terminology that they used for that. He wasn't going to be tried as an adult, but, "Is he really gonna come here?" she asked the nurse at the desk.

"They're drawing up the paperwork, as we speak. They'll most likely have him here for assessment, then move him over to the dangerous criminals zone if he can't hack it with you calm kids."

"He looks very gentle," Cheerio said.

"Cheerio, I forbid you to latch on to that boy. He's a white supremacist, sweetie. He's not for you, as a friend or anything else."

"But, he killed the other one, so maybe he's not. Even still… He's coming here to get fixed, right?"

"Honey - we rarely fix killers here. They're kinda just… stored here for everybody's safety."

"And the calm kids are stored here for our own safety… Or in my case, to keep my parents' from having to deal with my failures."

The nurse gave her a small smile, "If that was true, your daddy wouldn't send you these packages every couple of weeks."

"These packages are pocket change to my daddy. Do you know what my parents are worth? My mother is a fashion icon. My father is an entrepreneur. Both of them inherited companies. These baskets are as meaningful to them as sending me a pack of gum." She looked at the television again and told the nurse, "I am completely ignoring your forbiddance, by the way. Look at him. I'd lick the sweat off of that boy."

"I don't see it, Child. But, expect me to be blocking that, if God Himself doesn't." Cheerio laughed and took her notepads to her room. "You're leaving your other things!" the nurse called, but she was already in the zone.

.

Whenever Stevie was brought into the hospital, he was still in this weird, surreal trans mode. What happened could not have possibly happened. That would mean that Stacie was now motherless, that Mary was going to be buried, that his father was a widow, that Sam… was out there, with that girl, and living with his enemies… That didn't really happen. None of it happened. The nightmares seemed extremely real. He could feel his mother's body shaking in his arms. He could hear the moment that the gunshot hurt his ears. He recalled details of Sam and Dwight trying to collect him. But… there was no way that these were memories. These were nightmares. He was having nightmares again, like when he was a kid and these were simply recurring and more realistic. He was examined, asked a lot of questions about what happened. He dodged a lot of those questions.

"What happened after your mother was shot?"

"That didn't happen. Can I see her? She's not doing very well. She's very sad. My brother is mad at her and my dad is going to divorce her. She can't be dead, because she didn't have a chance to fix things."

"But, do you remember seeing her get shot?" He froze. He did remember it, but it couldn't have happened. Maybe, he was crazy. Maybe not taking his meds messed him up worse than he thought. "Steven, you held her in your arms. The police had to separate you to bring her in."

Tears fell down his cheeks and he shook his head. "That never happened. Um, I think I need my medicine back. I haven't taken it in a long time."

"We've given you the medicine that you're supposed to have. You can't remember that either?"

"You didn't. Because the medicine takes away my nightmares and I'm having them all of the time, even when I'm awake, now."

Now, he was being taken to a mental institution. They told him that he had been declared criminally insane and committed to an institution equipped to help him work through his breakdown.

But, Stevie had been on medication since he was 12, for his night terrors and nightmares, explosive anger, and incapacitating anxiety. A "break" for him was smashing his fist through his ex-girlfriend's car window, instead of her face, not… This. This was demolition. He got to the door of the institution and it occurred to him, for the first time - this was real. He was honestly going to spend time locked up because of something that his mind had let him do. "Wait… If my mom is dead, I have to say goodbye to her," he said. He looked over at Stacie and Dwight. (They had decided that maybe seeing Sam might not be good for him, right now. It had been difficult to even get him to respond and when he did, he was in denial about what happened. His current state of mind, as they knew it was that Sam was a traitor and because of him, their family was in trouble.

Stacie was trying not to cry as she insisted, "It's gonna be okay, Steves, okay? We're gonna be here for you. These people, they're gon' help you."

"Stacie!" He screamed, trying to rush to her. She stepped forward, but the escorts grabbed Stevie, so Dwight pulled Stacie back. "NO! That's my sister! That's my sister! Stacie! Tell Mama I love her! Tell her I'm sorry!" He was crying and the escort was giving him a sedative. "I didn't tell my mama goodbye," Stevie told the escort, crying.

"It's okay, Kid. She knows you love her."

"She's dead, though," Stevie said. It was the first time, since the shooting that he had said it. "She's dead..."

He was calm enough for them to settle him in the quarters that they had for him. Stacie and Dwight were allowed to say a few last things to him, but his brain was foggy. He was just staring out of the window. Stacie asked if he could be set with the other kids, so that he wouldn't have to be alone. They left him at a table in the common room and she cried the whole way to her newest home, with Dwight fruitlessly trying to cheer her up.

.

Cheerio noticed that the new boy was drooling. His family was gone, so the guards were no longer concerned. He could sit there for hours without them giving him so much as a glance. She sighed and went to see about him. She just had her notepad and a red and white cheerleading headband in her hair. She used the headband to clean him up and told him, "There." She left it with him, even though she was sure that he wouldn't be well enough to wipe his mouth the next time, either. They must have really gave him a strong shot! He also had a pair of glasses tucked into his pocket, that she presumed were taken off of him whenever whatever happened for them to sedate him. She took them and put them on his face, "There's not really nothing to look at, but you already full of drugs. Your vision doesn't need to be any more blurry."

She saw the nurse watching her and she left him alone, before she got in trouble.

When they brought him into his room, they dropped him on his bed and he was pretty much dead to the world. She sighed and crept into his room. "They kinda suck around here, sometimes. She fixed him on the bed to be more comfortable, and removed his glasses so that he wouldn't crush them while he slept.

An orderly passed by and called, "Hey! Cheerio! What are you doing in here?"

"Your job. You guys just dropped this kid on the bed like a load of heavy laundry that you're not about to even fold this week," she said.

"Get out of this room. You know that's against the rules."

"I was trying to help," she said and left the room, glaring at the orderly. He shut the door and locked it. Cheerio made her way to her own room and then noticed that she didn't have her notepad, "Hey… I think I dropped my notepad in Steven's room…"

"Tough. You can get it tomorrow, if he doesn't break your neck when you knock on his door."

She smiled, anxiously and asked, "Can you just go run in and get it for me? It's not that far."

"Princess, I know that your parents got a lot of money, but you're a ward, here. You aren't in charge."

"I feel like I asked nicely," and now, she was wringing her hands.

"My answer is no," he said and practically shoved her into her room before locking the door behind her. Cheerio sniffled and huffed. How goddamned hard would it have been for him to just grab it for her? There was stuff about Steven INSIDE of that! What if he woke up and read it? She took a deep breath.

"It's okay. It's alright." She began to cry and climbed into bed crying. "It's okay. It's alright."

.

She barely slept. As soon as the doors were open, she rushed into Stevie's room and looked around for her notepad. He stared at her, blankly, but didn't say anything. She let out an excited cheer and rushed to the floor near his bed and snatched her notepad from the floor. Stevie looked around for his glasses and found them on the nightstand. He put them on to see a strange black girl with light skin and wavy hair hugging a notepad, next to his bed. Was she real? He reached out and touched her and she gasped and he jumped and hurried out of the bed, then out of the room. What the fuuu…? It took him a moment to realize what this unfamiliar setting was. He was in an institution. He had not imagined that. He had not imagined that girl, either. She must have been one of the crazy people…

The nurse saw him and said, "Whoa, there… Where are you trying to go, Mr. Evans?" He looked around. He had no idea. He just wanted to get away from that girl in his room, but now - he didn't know what the hell he was planning on doing.

Cheerio came walking from his room and the nurse pursed her lips and put a hand on her hips, "Cheerio, if you licked this boy, I swear, I'm throwing you in lockup."

Cheerio shook her head, "No, of course I didn't LICK him. I just went to get my notepad… And I dropped it last night before lockup when the orderlies threw him in the bed and were gonna leave him there like a trash pile! Then Surette wouldn't get it for me, AND he shoved me. I actually want to file a complaint about this."

"You don't have anything to stand on. You're not supposed to be in other residents' rooms."

"So, Surette gets to push me?" Cheerio fussed. Stevie was still standing there, but when he saw a television; he went towards that. There were other teenagers here, but they all seemed to be in their own worlds. He sat near the television, still unsure if this was all real, if the stuff prior to it was real and how long he would have to wait to know that for sure.

He still heard that black girl's voice. She was annoyingly loud and he hadn't really processed what was said, but the room that he woke up in, the room that she rushed into… that was his room and she was in it for some reason. Who did she think she was, barging into his room? He fumed, but looked around to see if anyone was watching the education channel before switching it to the news.

After a while, she was in the doorway of the room and he was trying to ignore her. She was watching him and he couldn't tell if she was going to come over or not. He glared at her until she went on her way, then he returned his attention to the news.

Cheerio wrote in her notepad about her stressful night of being separated from her notepad, opting to talk to Steven later on. He was still trying to get used to the place. He did not look happy.

She surfaced after a while and saw Steven sitting alone, and he looked a little bit dazed. She wandered over to him and asked, "Did you get sedated again?" He slowly turned to face her and even slower pointed towards her face and touched the tip of her nose. She blushed and smiled brightly. He semi smiled, too. He was clearly sedated, but she didn't know if that was an accidental touch while trying to point to her and form a thought, or a purposeful bloop… so she catalogued it under purposeful bloop. What was he gonna do? Fight her for thinking it? She went to the nurse's desk and said, "Sandy, they sedated Steven again, didn't they?"

"He got irate," the nurse said.

"I didn't hear anything," Cheerio said.

"Well, he didn't say anything. He just put Chase Madison in a headlock and cut off his circulation. I think Chase got too close to him and he reacted, but we had to get him off of the kid. It wasn't as strong a dosage as last night, so don't fret. You don't have to lose another headband today." Sandy gave her a look to let her know that she had seen last night's interaction.

"Oh… Any chance that I can get that back? Because, I obviously can't go into his room and…" Sandy pulled the headband out from under the counter and slid it to her.

"He threw it in the trash earlier."

"Ingrates. Everyone here is so ungrateful for me."

"They don't deserve ya, Cheerio."

.

Stevie woke up for a second day in this place. He still hadn't spoken to anyone, caught on a pendulum of thinking that everyone was fake and this was an elaborate mental paracosm to deal with Mary's death, then realizing that this was real and just hating everything so much that there were no words that he could speak to express really anything. He was likely here for the rest of his life. He… killed Hank. But, Hank killed his mother. Kyle may have pulled the trigger, but Hank called the order. He began to cry and he heard the door unlock. He wished that he could lock it right back. He got up to see if he could… No such luck. They probably didn't want them trapping themselves and being able to harm themselves… But, wait… If they had a key, it should still… He tried it again and opened the door. Nope. He studied it for a moment and tried to see if he might be able to Jerry-rig some way to make it lockable from inside.

"Morning, Steven!" She cheered. He jumped at the sound of her voice and looked up at her. She was putting on lip gloss and she had that headband that he had found on him yesterday, in her hair. He should have known. He almost told her to beat it, but it occurred to him that the less he said, the less that he should have to deal with people. In fact, not only was he not going to respond to her; he wasn't saying anything to anybody. He turned back towards the lock and continued studying it. She… wasn't leaving. He looked at her again, this time, annoyed. What the hell did she want? "Did you hear me say good morning to you?" She asked. Actually, she said, "Morning," which always annoyed him. Say "Good morning" or skip it. Can't be bothered with one syllable added to your friendly greeting? He ignored her and went back into his room and shut the door. "They're gonna expect you to come have breakfast," she told him and went on her way.

At breakfast, she noticed that Surette had Steven grabbed kind of hard by the arm and flung him into a seat. "He should not be allowed to work with people!" She hissed to her breakfast buddies.

"That's no person. He's a monster," Chase said.

Cheerio touched his hand and said, "I think you just scared him. I told you. You can't hug everybody, especially not in here. Remember when you hugged Myron?"

Myron Muskovich shivered, thinking about the meltdown that caused.

Chase clarified, "I wasn't hugging him. I saw that he had your headband and I was gonna get it back for you!"

She placed her hand over her heart, "I gave it to him. He was drooling on day one. I think that they shot him up too much. Never ever try to do stuff for me, unless I ask; you know that. I would have felt so bad if something happened to you over me. We ALLLLLL know I ain't worth it."

Myron chimed in, "I don't know if any of us are…"

Dani came to the table and sat right on Chase's lap, "Hey - did anybody call dibs on newboy?"

"Cheerio," Chase and Myron both answered in unison.

Dani snarled and hurried to the seat next to Chase when she saw Surette heading their way. "Fuck me. Manhandle McGee is coming."

Surette asked, "Any reason that you were in Mr. Madison's lap, Dani?"

Dani circled her finger around her head, "You know I'm loopy, Surette. Thought it was the chair. In this moment of clarity, may I say… PLEASE shave the pornstache…"

The others laughed and Surette snatched up their trays. "Breakfast is over," he said. Myron shook his head, "I didn't get enough nutrients. My blood sugar will not be balanced, and my medication will not properly work!"

Cheerio fanned him with her notepad and asked, "Where is your inhaler?" Surette slammed Myron's tray back in front of him, dropping much of his food on the table and went to throw Cheerio and Chase's away.

Cheerio sighed and said, "I gotta watch my figure anyway."

Dani chuckled, "I don't know why. That boy will not want you. He's one of those Nazi people that have been making the news lately. His brother is that Free Nazi that was involved in some murders when we were little. Remember that?"

"I do. My parents were friends with them. I have been to that house before, before then, of course. To be honest, if they had lived, I can see my mommy pushing for a marriage between our families."

"Do all black people in Lima know each other?" Myron asked.

Cheerio threw him a look, then reminded herself, "He's a small boy. He don't know no better." She left the question unanswered. Chase leaned to Dani and wondered, "Are you getting breakfast, because I hardly ate anything and it's your fault that me and Cheri lost ours."

"How is it my fault? I didn't make you laugh."

"You did. That's the exact definition of making somebody laugh," Chase said.

Dani shook her head, "Even if I wanted to go grab a tray and give it to you, that's just gonna make Surette mad."

"He should not be allowed to work with people!" Cheerio repeated.

Surette came to the table again and asked, "Didn't I tell you all that breakfast was over?" Dani, Cheerio and Chase got up and left Myron, looking timid and bothered about losing his company and having to finish eating alone. He had to get his inhaler so that the stress wouldn't push him over the edge.

.

The three of them went to the yard and knew Myron would find them later. Myron was the youngest person in their ward and Chase was the oldest. Chase's mind worked like a younger person's so he was put in this ward, despite his age. Technically, this wasn't a "teenager" ward, but most of the people here were teenagers, and they have meals, classes and social time together, so it was like being at camp with friends… Who are likely to have some sort of extreme issue, at any time..

This place had several different areas and people didn't always stay where they were initially signed. Just like Sandy said that Steven was probably going to be in the violent criminals area. They just called it "juvie ward," usually, but there was an adult division, too that they didn't discuss much, since none of them ever wound up there.

She, herself had began in the "suicide watch ward." She was a beauty queen and a cheerleader. She made the varsity team her freshman year. She had been in pageants since she was 6 months old. She had been in commercials and as an extra child in some television projects. She was more focused on her gymnastics and dance. Her mother got her some of the finest training that money could buy. She performed in a couple of movies. She competed and won gymnastics trophies and cheerleading was supposed to just be a fun thing to put on her transcript before going to performance arts college and hopefully going on to star in several dance series, like the Step Up movies… but like… better. She loved them or whatever, but that wasn't exactly what she wanted. She wanted Step Up routines with Antwone Fisher poignancy. She wanted a dance movie with a plot and actors and actresses that made you actually feel for Lil' Saint, not just doing dope dances for the little dude. She had high hopes and pipe dreams… And last year, she injured her knee and in her recovery depression (unable to do so many of the things that she loved, lost hope of it getting better and tried to kill herself.

She wrote a detailed note on why in one of her notepads. She wrote, "I know that you don't usually read these, but this is my suicide note!" on the front of the notepad, so it wouldn't be lost and she practically filled the pages up with why this was going to be a good thing for everyone, being sorry about hurting herself and hoping that her death would be a good thing for everyone.

What ended up happening was she fell unconscious trying to hang herself, her weight was too much for the holder, she crashed to the floor and made her temporary knee injury worse… and wound up in this place, where she was not allowed to own most things, because of the danger of them to herself. She had thought about suicide many times, but only tried once and failed. That honestly made her feel horrible, but now - she had no way to punish herself. That was likely why she took to Steven. He did not pay much attention to her. He didn't seem to like people very much and he gave her no sign that it was okay for her to speak to him or come near him. Myron told her that chasing after him was clearly her self harm manifesting itself in other ways. Her response was to go sit across from Steven at breakfast, the next day. She watched him sigh, but he didn't look up at her. She knew that he knew it was her. Who else would it be? Everyone else was already afraid of him.

"I was told that you would end up in the dangerous criminals ward, but it's been days and you're still here, so I think that they're gonna leave you here…" He began to stuff his food in his mouth, to hurry up and finish so that he wouldn't get any shit from that orderly that acted like a ballbusting cop. Then, he got up, took his tray and left the table.

"Stevie Evans - where are you going?" Surette still asked him. Stevie showed him his fully eaten tray. "I asked where you're going, not to see your tray." Stevie stood silently for a while. "I know that you can talk. I've heard your voice, when you were first brought in here. And I know that you aren't having a psychological breakdown, so it's basically, you've decided that you're too good to answer me?" Stevie rolled his eyes and walked off. What was he going to do? This was an institution, not a goddamn prison… "Get to your room, Evans." Stevie tossed his tray at the stack and turned to do just that. That's what the hell he was going to do anyway. Surette followed him to the room and when they reached it told him, "Hey… Don't test me."

Stevie raised an eyebrow at him. He… hadn't been testing him. He looked at his name badge, for the first time. Bobby Surette. He studied his face. For a moment, he wondered if maybe he had been sent by them. But. he didn't seem familiar and he wasn't saying something to indicate that he was with the organization. Surette locked the door and went on his way.

.

Three months. That was the period of time that he gave himself to accept that this was real, to not kill anyone, and to actually start trying to do whatever it was that they thought putting him here would do. Until then, he wanted to be left alone and he remained silent. If I don't kill anybody in three months, I will start talking. He went to the juvie ward, not saying anything or responding to anyone. After a few weeks, he was sent back to T ward, where Cheerio and the others seemed very excited about him being there. He kept himself inside of his room. Whenever the doors would open, he would step out, show his face, maybe eat or something and make his way back to his room where he would stay, unless something happened. He had started getting letters from Stacie and they both cheered him up and made him sad. She was in a new school, a new home, and they were in Ohio, to be closer to him - living with Sam and that woman. Stacie really loved her. She said good things about her every letter. She folded them into little shapes and he could never get them back that way, instead straightening them against the door and setting them flat in his drawer.

The cheerleader pissed him off. She walked into the common room while he was watching the news - a story about the Saunders' family creating a foundation in Hank's name to lead and guide youths into the light - and she turned on something else. "You weren't watching that, were you?" She sat down in front of the television and he thought it was rude, but then again… He never spoke, so it wasn't like she would expect him to answer. He rationalized for her. Then, she turned right around and fussed at the television for the entire 30 minutes of her show. He wasn't sure what infuriated him more: turning off his news, watching something terrible, or watching it and complaining about it, when she was the reason that they were watching it! He got up and stormed to the desk and gestured for a pen. Sandy stared at him. This particular nurse didn't like him. He was halfway convinced that she must have been a Jew, because she often didn't seem like she was going to help him.

"You can't have a pen," she informed him. "Or a pencil, or anything with a sharp point. But, you could ask Cheri if she will lend you one of her safe felt tip pens." He furrowed his eyebrows. Who the fuck was Sharee? "Cheerio!" Sandy called. Cheerio looked up from the TV, saw Steven at the desk with Sandy and rushed over. Stevie frowned. Cheerio is Sharee. He simply walked away and heard Sandy say, "Guess he didn't need you."

She watched him have a visit with his family. Then, another, with more family. His group kept growing, then stayed steady at three blondes, one of them a pretty girl, about their age, the Free Nazi, and the guy she presumed must be his daddy, because he was old and sorta looked like his brother, if his brother was old.

Steven was different around them. Whenever they were there, he actually seemed sad. That was bizarre to her. She wrote it in her notepad. If she could see her family, that would make her so happy, but here he was, getting regular visits and it seemed to make his mood more melanchology than as was typical for him.

Cheerio wasn't really bothering him, but someone mentioned that she was depressed because it was the holidays and her family didn't love her enough to even send her a card. He glanced at her and could tell that she had just heard that said about her. Her eyes changed. They got darker and damp. He prepared to see an explosive show of emotions. It was more internal. It was disappointing.

That really cute girl Dani began talking to him, specifically, "The notepads, it's kinda like her therapy, kinda like her curse. One of these days, she'll be good enough to actually pull off a suicide and the things that she has written in those pages could make or break her rep, you know?" He looked confused. "She totally shit the bed when she tried to kill herself." Stevie's eyes widened and Cheerio's eyes wettened. "She tried to hang herself, but just cut off her circulation and landed… get this… on the knee that she hurt that she was killing herself over!" Dani laughed and snorted. Cheerio shed a couple of tears and wiped her face before Dani insisted, "You know I'm fuckin' with you. Nobody mess with my girlfriend. She's sad, now. Holidays got her crying and shit. Upset that she don't get a Robinson priced Thanksgiving, I bet! I'd be upset too!" She touched Stevie's arm and asked, "You ever seen her family's place? It's that BIIIIIIG white house with all the different pink flowers all around it looking like in Alice in Wonderland when they paint."

"Those were red."

"Pink. I passed by that place enough when my mom had to work as a maid in that neighborhood."

"My family has 16 pink flowers that are grown on the grounds and maintained by a landscaping professional. Alice in Wonderland, they are painting the roses red."

"16 pink flowers?"

"I picked them out. If I'm out by the time I turn 16, I'm going to have a Pink Flower Super Sweet 16."

"Ummm… You're not gonna be out by then. You're not any better than when you came," Dani reminded her. She moped, but the rest of group, she was as quiet as Stevie always was. He made note of it. It wasn't like her, but maybe it was the holidays getting to her.

When they left therapy, he watched her walk out by herself to the grass and sit down. That seemed a good place to collect your thoughts, despite the fact that shen Surette found her, he was gonna go ape shit. That might be funny, but then again - her life sounded like it sucked, Parents can't be bothered to let her know if they'll come to the stupid family dinner in the common room? Botched suicide attempt? Injured knee? As much as she seemed to love cheerleading? She needed that moment, he was sure of it.

.

Myron was hitting his inhaler pretty hard and Dani was sedated and still crying. Stevie walked up to them and Chase jumped at the sight of him, but then simply said, somewhat cautiously, "They're both a little upset. Our friend Cheerio, the very pretty cheerleader? She had to be rushed to the infirmary. She must have been saving her pills over the past few weeks or something and she took them all. They found her out on the grass, foaming at the mouth."

"No… She had choked on her own vomit!" Myron said and began crying.

Dani mumbled, "My fault.."

Stevie shrugged his shoulders. She was kind of a dick to the girl, but they all were in an institution, Cheerio wasn't remarkable at communicating things tactfully at times, either. If anyone was to blame, it was probably him. He was a little bit less… off… than they were and he saw her there. He knew that she shouldn't be there and he did think for a moment that he ought to point her out to someone. But, he didn't. He frowned and wondered why he even cared so much? She didn't even care about herself, obviously! He marched off and went to watch the news, now that she wasn't going to bother him.

.

Whenever NUrse Sandy rolled Cheerio back into their ward, in a straight jacket, dazed and hollow-looking, Dani clutched Stevie's arm and then leaned on him to start crying. He shook her off and pushed her onto Chase. Myron went to Sandy and said in a quiet voice, "I held on to this for her," and handed over her notepad.

Sandy suggested, "Why don't you hold on to it for a little while longer for her. In fact, why don't you get all of her friends to write her some encouraging words, for when she comes back to us?" He nodded his head and gave Cheerio's body a hug. She didn't move, but a tear did fall down her cheek. "Come on, Cheri… We'll get you settled back into your bedroom, pretty girl."