After about an hour of waiting around for Ms. Ericsson to show up, Riley decided it was just no use. She got off the picnic table and turned on 'Wanderer' by Dion. She had always been a fan of old music, and older things in general. She suspects that it came from her aunt, seeing as she was around her so much when she was younger. Her aunt loved all things "Rockabilly", so because of that, so did Riley.

Riley put her phone in her pocket as she heard the drum and piano lick in the beginning come through her earbuds. She began walking in the direction of the bus stop, which was luckily close to the school (unluckily, however, it was a three mile walk back to her house from the bus stop in her neighborhood). She used to hate taking the bus, seeing as she was always alone and surrounded by strangers who looked intimidating. Now that she was older, however, she was much more used to it, and had just about lost count of how many times she had taken the bus.

It was less than a minute before the bus rolled into the stop area. Riley reached into her bag for bus fare, counting it to make sure she had enough. As she walked on, she put her money into the box and took her seat towards the back, allowing the beginning of 'Earth Angel' by The Penguins to set her mind adrift as she blankly stared out the window.

XXX

After a nearly 3 mile walk from the stop she got off on, the sign with the words 'Paradise Estates' written in dull neon cams into view. She sighed and took out her earbuds, her senses on high alert and her eyes adjusting to the light. Her neighborhood could barely even be considered a neighborhood at all, seeing as it was just one long road with a bunch of run down houses. It definitely wasn't the safest place to live; it had a high crime rate ranging from car and home break ins to hostages and drug violence.

Luckily for her, it seemed to be a quiet night, no gunshots with no origin, no shouting or yelling, and no cop cars thankfully. She walked up to Ms. Ericsson's driveway, the grass and dirt very noticeable underneath the numerous cracks that covered it. The house itself wasn't much to look at. It was old and run down, with paint peeling off of the door and shingles missing from the roof.

She sighed as she walked up the driveway, noticing that Ms. Ericsson's car was missing. 'Probably out partying with her sleazy friends' Riley thought to herself. She took out her key as she walked up to the door, struggling to move the giant overgrown bush from out of the doorway. She unlocked the door and shoved it with her shoulder, but it didn't budge. It had a tendency to stick to the frame, and proved difficult to open most of the time. She shoved again, and again, and with a final grunt, the door swung open, revealing an empty house.

Riley closed the door and turned on the lights, setting down her backpack and heading towards the kitchen to grab a snack. As she grabbed the handle for the fridge, she noticed a note attached to it by a magnet.

It read:

'I'm out with Stephanie and Mike and won't be back for a while. We are going to Oregon for the week.

Here's the number for the hotel we're staying at (541-638-7476), and don't call unless you're dying.

P.S. Don't die.

-Lita Ericsson

Riley inwardly groaned. She knew this would happen. She always did this and Riley hated it.

On the bright side, however, this meant she had the run of the house for the week, and she didn't have to constantly listen to Ms. Ericsson yell at her.

She settled on a banana, grabbing her bag and heading to her room.

She walked into her room at the back of the narrow hallway and turned on her light, shutting the door behind her and setting her bag on the ground.

Books from the library covered her bed, each one about the young reporter from the 1930's that she held so close to her heart. She laid back on the bed and began to peel her banana, grabbing the book nearest to her and opening it to one of its many bookmarked pages.

On this page was Tintin in his mid thirties, standing next to Captain Haddock, who looked older, but yet somehow just as strong and lively as when Riley had met him. Tintin had longer hair in this picture, his bangs coming to the top of his eyebrows and swooshing to one side. He looked rather dashing, much older looking, yet still just as handsome as when he was seventeen.

Her heart began to ache once again, and she just felt like crying her eyes out. She set her half eaten banana on her dresser (if you could even call it that), and laid back on her pillow, turning the book to a different page. This one was a picture of him when he was much younger, most likely a year or so after Riley had first met him. She propped it up so that she could look at it as she was lying on her pillow, and sighed. She felt a hot tear roll down her cheek...and then another...and another, until they started to come so fast that she couldn't have stopped them even if she wanted to.

She shut her eyes tight as a sob wracked her body, her breaths coming out in shudders. Eventually she succumbed to the sadness, as her mind drifted off and she began to feel sleepy.

XXX

Riley woke up in her bed, sitting up quickly and rubbing her eyes. She turned to her right as the body next to her stirred, sitting up to face her.

"What's wrong my love?" It said, "Another nightmare?"

"Tintin?" She asked. It couldn't be. It couldn't be him, with her, there, together...it just couldn't. She reached out and touched his face, feeling his soft skin with her fingers, tracing lightly over his freckles.

"It's ok my love," He said, grabbing her hands and kissing them. "I'm right here, and I always will be."

She smiled and laughed, going in to kiss him, when she heard a bell go off. She sat back, stunned, both off them wearing a confused look as it came again.

"What is that?" She asked, looking all around. She waited for a response but none came. "Tintin?" But as she turned around, he was gone, no where to be seen. The bell came again, louder. "TINTIN!" The bells came again, louder, and louder, and louder, so loud that they filled up all of the space in the room. They continued until everything stopped, and the room went black.

Riley sat up with a start, tears streaming down her face. 'It was all a stupid dream' she thought as her heart dropped like a stone. She felt like crying again, and was about to lay down when she heard a bell go off, quite like in her dream.

She turned to her dresser and saw that her cell phone was ringing like crazy, Celia's name flashing across the caller ID. Riley sighed and picked it up, squeaking out a small "Hey,".

"Hey, listen, ok so, this is gonna sound really weird and you're not gonna believe me," she sounded very nervous, her voice talking in a quivering, fast manner.

"...Yeah...?" urged Riley. A knock came at the front door. Riley was hesitant to answer it, especially because she wasn't expecting anyone and she was alone.

"Well, I got a strange phone call, and I don't even know if it was, like, real, but it sounded pretty real- he sounded pretty real- u-unless it was a prank, which I'm still not sure if it was or not..." Celia continued on as quick as she could, all of her sentences mushing together into one long one.

"Celia, I need you to calm down ok?" Riley said, trying to make sense of what she was saying. The knock at the door came again, this time a bit louder. Riley got up, and began to walk out of her room and towards the front door very slowly.

"Ok...ok..." she sighed and took deep breaths.

"Now, tell me exactly what happened." Riley said, taking cautious steps towards the door. The knock came again.

Knock knock knock.

"Ok, so he called me and told me he needed to find your house, and I was like 'Woah, is that really you?', and I'll tell you what, I almost passed out right there, but anyway, he was like 'Yes, now tell me where she is.' And I was like 'Ok,' so I told him and then I called you so I could war-"

"Who Celia, who called you?" Riley said, her attention still on the door, her hand grazing the knob.

"Well...they said they were..."

Riley was no longer paying attention to Celia, and began to turn the knob. She slowly began to open the door, her eyes shut tight in fear.

"Can I help you?" She asked with a quivering voice.

"...Riley?" It was a quiet voice, a man. She knew that voice. The voice that haunted her thoughts and dreams. The voice she had longed to hear for so long.

She opened her eyes. There before her, stood Tintin, boy reporter of the 1930's. And then, the world went black.