MIRANDA

I was inwardly agape at myself for telling John all of this! Why couldn't I just shut my mouth, after all I did know what john was capable of when he got upset! Another part of me was sort of glad I had someone to confide in and it was rather like we know each other in some way. Not in a sick and twisted way, but in a way that was the only way and no other way. I blinked several times, realizing how mental that went.

'Do you mind if when we get to your place, I could come inside and we'll have a nice long chat?" John asked and my heart literally skipped a beat. Having a man at our place, let alone John Shooter himself? I actually didn't know what to be shyer of, inviting a man to the house or Raditus's shockingly vivid temper tantrum she'd have when John Shooter came through our door!

"Sure yeah, I mean no, um," I blabbered, blushing. Then I shrugged, "if you want to, you know, show up at our place." I intentionally left out another phrase, which Raditus corrupted me into making nasty with the statement.

He laughed for a short bit then replied, "You are about the most damned shy adult I've seen in all my years!" I blushed, how was I supposed to take this comment? Was I being made fun of by john?

"I am not sure where I got this trait from," I explained, 'my sister is sort of shy but she warms up to someone." This was a total lie. She hated to talk with other people in a behavior that went way beyond shy! She'd even gone to the point to talk about this that scared people away!

John shrugged his shoulders slightly, 'Well in this day and age it's great to have people who are shy. Can't trust people too much too quick, like when you got into my car this quick." my heart stopped and I slipped my right hand down to the latch for my seatbelt. He wasn't going that fast and besides, getting scraped up by jumping from this mad man's car was a mighty fine price to pay for my stupidity!

He gave me a sad look as he stated, "Please don't do it. I could have hurt you way back there." I stopped, he was right and I hated to admit it. Still, his comment chilled me. "I didn't mean to scare you none, but I was just telling you that you should of been more cautious." I nodded while looking away from him to look at the road then I quickly pointed.

"It's that rotted little path," I explained. "Our house is up there." He slowly turned the car around and when we hit the path, his car started groaning with the effort as small rocks flew up and pinged and scraped the underside of his car. I knew or rather felt that his car was a part of him and saw him grimace as he heard the nasty noises his car was giving him. I also felt his pain and I grimaced.

"Um, Mr. Shooter?" he looked at me quickly, still grimacing. "Maybe you should stop the car and we'll walk up to the house. I really didn't know this would affect your car like this." His grimace faded and he gave a brief smile and stopped the car. The feeling that the car was on its deathbed fell away. He opened his side of the door and I undid the seatbelt and got out of my side. I shut the door gently and hurried to walk next to him, not wanting to be disrespectful.

'Why don't y'all get that road fixed anyways?" he asked in a firm tone. I winced inwardly, knowing full well that I and Raditus deserved this gentle scolding. "We only showed up a couple of days past. And I assure you;" I looked at him "I am going to fix the damn driveway."

"Shouldn't your sister help too?" he asked as we reached the front door. I opened and as I opened it, I let out a little laugh.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew my sister." Seeing his look, I replied, "She pushes herself too hard, is too stubborn to ask for help." I walked over to the fridge and opened it, "Pepsi or tea?"

"I don't mind either which one,' he drawled.

I looked back to see him holding his hat. He set it gently down on our coffee table and I, ashamedly admit, peeked when he slightly shrugged his lightweight jacket coat off. His blue shirt hugged on him, and he work brown suspenders. I could see that he had a bit of gut, but that's didn't bother me any. Having an overweight sister and grandfather seemed to dull my sense about people's weight. He moved carefully and slowly, over to our couch. He sat on it slowly; as if half-afraid he'd break it or something. I quickly got out two bottles of Pepsi and handing him one. He glared at it, as if wondering how to take off the top. "I need a bottle-opener, these new bottle sure are weird.' he stated. What planet is he from, new type of bottles? I thought sort of impatiently as I held my soda up so he could clearly see it and I twisted the cap off. He mimicked me, almost spilling his Pepsi. He took an experimental swig, and obviously liked it for he took a deeper swig.

'Where's your sister," he began after his swig. "Can I meet her?"

"Oh sure, no problem," I stated, going upstairs. "I'll be back in a minute."

He stood up slowly, speaking, "I'll walk with you, if it's ok."

"Sure,"

RADITUS

The party was in full swing, but I was busy sitting down against the far right wall, chatting up some people who also chose to sit next to me. Death Metal was playing, some of the bands I knew as I had them on my computer.

'We ain't supposed to be here," A woman stated. I looked at her at this cryptic saying.

'What do you mean?"

"Jus' what I said: We ain't supposed to be here."

I didn't like this woman. She looked really frail and her face was thin and cheeks sunken in. her hair was long, dishwater like mine, but thin, stringy and had a dull shine. After she said what she said, she wandered off. I happened to look over and see her slip into a dark corner. I saw her sneak out some Heroine and shoot it up. I looked back at the people I was with and felt like I had to throw up. If it was indeed that kind of party, I didn't want to get caught by the cops!

"So, um, who's the party for?" I asked to anyone near me that would care, or wouldn't be too stoned to answer.

"We don't know," was the reply. "Invites were placed everywhere and we got in. had to pay a shit load of cash to get the password though." great, I thought sarcastically, this is the best place to be in; a stinking drug party! I sighed and slumped against the wall, watching the other people dancing, ECT.

JOHN

Ok, I thought I saw it all on television and in books; Weird coca-cola bottles that were made of plastic instead of glass and had a weird shape to them. Add the fact that it was called Pepsi instead of Coca-Cola. I kind of didn't like holding them, the plastic felt flimsy and I was plumb scared that I'd drop it. Miranda made mention of seeing if her sister was ok, and I decided it's too rude to hang around up here. Besides, the way things are near a lake, something bad could have really happened.

Miranda and I climbed stairs. I had to reduce my steps to one at a time, while Miranda took two at a time. Damned back, I grimace as I felt an occasion twinge. Miranda was obviously very worried about her sister. I saw the overweight woman sitting on a chair, slumped over a desk. I immediately assumed the worse until Miranda, not hurrying went over. I saw, as God as my only witness, Miranda lay her hand on her sister's arm. Miranda closed her eyes for only about a minute and opened them again.

"She's ok, just sleeping." She explained, smiling brightly.

I nodded, still unsure of what I witnessed. As she turned her back to me to descend the staircase, I shook my head, wandering what the hell I got myself into this time. At time she felt sort of familiar, but other times she just felt creepy. But, manners are manners and it wouldn't do to be rude to her, especially after she invited me into the house.

'Does she often conk out like that?" I ask after I sat back down on the couch.

"As I said Mr. Shooter," She began while she took a small sip from her bottle, "She pushes herself too hard. She won't really accept help from me, I don't know why."

'Well, I don't want to be blunt, but maybe that's just the way she is." I replied after some thinking. "And since we're pretty much friends and all, just call me John." I smiled.

Um, Ok, john," I could tell that this Miranda had issues at calling people by their first names. Just wished I knew why. It wasn't that hard to say a name was it? 'Would you like something to eat?" She asked.

"I'm afraid to say this, but I ate earlier."

'How much, you want to just grab a snack then?" She asked.

'I'm not a heavy eater." I replied. It was true; I've never eaten anything heavy in my life. Mostly due to the fact that I am usually busy farming. A man has no business being a pure glutton when there was farm work to be done!

MIRANDA

I saw how he looked at the new Pepsi bottles in disgust. Down in Mississippi they must be behind a few things, I guess. I dismiss this as I realize that I said earlier about my sister and it would be rude to not introduce her to him!

"How about we go see Raditus is?" I ask. He nodded and we started hurrying up the stairs as fast as we could.

I caught glimpses of Mr. Shooter occasionally wincing as we went up the steps. As I searched for raditus, I felt guilty for his back giving him trouble. We reached the top where Raditus's table was and saw her slumped over, her head on the table. I saw panic quickly fly over his features before I walked over to Raditus. I placed my arm on Raditus and closed my eyes. Yes, she was indeed still alive! I told Jon this, but not how I knew that she was. I saw an unreadable look on Mr. Shooter's face. Uh-oh! I thought as I turned my back on Mr. Shooter and we descended the staircase, leaving raditus to her sleep.

'Does she often conk out like that?" Mr. Shooter asked me after he sat down on the couch.

"As I said Mr. Shooter," I began while I took a small sip from my bottle, "She pushes herself too hard. She won't really accept help from me, I don't know why." I have a pretty good feeling though!

'Well, I don't want to be blunt, but maybe that's just the way she is." he replied after some apparent thinking. "And since we're pretty much friends and all, just call me John." he smiled.

Um, Ok, john," I said, kind of wincing. I didn't like calling people by their first names. I don't know why, but it made me uncomfortable! It wasn't that hard to say a name was it? 'Would you like something to eat?" I asked to break the apparent awkwardness.

"I'm afraid to say this, but I ate earlier."

'How much, you want to just grab a snack then?" I asked. I don't know why, but I was afraid he'd find nothing else to do here and leave the house. Where the Hell did this fear come from? I know it's cool to talk to John Shooter himself, but what was with the wanting to apparently stall?

'I'm not a heavy eater." He replied. I guessed it was true as he was a Farmer and everything. I looked over to my right, really at a loss for words now. "Well, I'd better be going." he replied as with some effort he came up from his seat. I saw him scoop up his black hat with his free hand. He finished the Pepsi and, thankfully, threw the empty bottle in the trash. "It was a real pleasure talking to you, Miss." he replied while scribbling down some address. He handed me the address. "This is where I'm staying at and the number, if you want to talk at anytime just call or come on over."

I shook his hand and he left. I waved at him through the screen over our porch and he waved back before driving away. I turned around to do some dishes when I collapsed on the floor! Some images flashed by of blood... Alot of blood... and body parts!