Yay finally updated!! I was so caught up with my ps3 I forgot all about my story P But now I've done something. Thank you again to E Muja SN and TN and mrs.Charlotte.K.jonas for taking the time to read and review. You are really appreciated and I hope you and anyone else who'll read this will like it D Devil May Cry 4 rocks socks!!

xXx

"Why, Namine, how nice."

I sidestep. Sora steps with me.

"Hey what's up? You're crying?" His blue eyes don't quite match his hair. "Wanna talk or something?" he asks. "It's just phys. Ed . next period. I was gonna skip anyway."

"You'll get into trouble," I say, conveniently forgetting the fact that I'm about to skip class too. For the first time ever!

"No problem," he says, gently heading me to the exit. "Don't start sounding like Roxas."

He helps me on with my jacket as we walk quickly out of the side doors. I tuck my hands into my sleeves.

"You don't look like the type." He says out of the left field.

"What type is that?"

"Oh, you know, the type to wear all those zippers, the ready-to-party type." He gives me a lopsided grin. Definitely cute. "How's you get out of the house looking like this?"

"My mother wasn't paying attention. She hasn't been too worried about what I wear recently."

"Lucky you."

"Yeah, well, you can't judge a girl by her jacket." I wish I had worn my denim jacket with fringes and the lamb's-wool lining or a good sensible parka.

"It's not just the jacket," he says. "There's the well looked after face." His eyes jump to my breasts and back-up. "You're not geeky little Namine Saehara from kindergarten any more."

"Geeky?" I glare at him. "I don't need this."

"Chill." He opens the door of the little restaurant. "I'll buy you a pop or something."

I stride ahead of him to the counter and order a milkshake. He orders an entire breakfast special. We sit upstairs up the window that looks down on Nursery Gardens. I really want to talk – to tell him about my parents' divorce, my mum's weird behaviour. But Sora rambles on about the hockey season, his computer, his bike, his childhood illnesses. He seems to have forgotten he invited meto talk. So, I sip my milkshake and listen.

We return to school in time for lunch.

0o0

I hurry home after school. I have to pick up my music books and get to Mrs Gainsborough's for my lesson. But I keep thinking about Olette. What'll she say next time. Ifthere is a next time. The look on her face. I was such a bitch.

As I step off the elevator, my guilt is replaces by a gripping fear. Our apartment door is open- not wide, but open. Have we been robbed? Where is Mum?

I press my back against the wall just outside our apartment and slowly push the door open with my fingertips, like I'm a TV police officer. The hinges squeak slightly.

My heart hammers against my rib cage. Do I go in? What if the robber is still inside? What if my mum is lying hurt somewhere? I take a deep breath and step in.

"Who's in here?" I shout. "Is anyone here?" Silence. "Mum?"

I tiptoe in, ready to run if anything's the least bit suspicious. The living room seems OK. I check my room. Neat as a pin. I squint into the bathroom. Messy-still!

I shove the door to my mum's room open with such force that it bangs against the wall. I see nothing unusual except that the sheets are off the bed and lying in a rumpled heap on the carpet.

"Namine, is that you?" Mrs Lockhart is walking into the living room, wringing her hands. "Oh, how I'm glad your home," she says breathlessly.

"Why? What's happened? Why is the door open?"

She blinks with each of my questions.

"Well, I don't wanna appear nosy but..."She gives an apologetic smile.

"Just tell me," I say curtly.

"About ten minutes ago, I started hearing a lot of banging coming from here."

"Banging?" I repeat. "What kind of banging? What do you mean by banging?" Whilst my mind going crazy with all sorts of disturbing thoughts.

She crosses her arms. "Banging, you know like, cupboards and doors being slammed shut." She shakes her head. "And angry voices, well, one angry voice. Your mum's."

I stare stupidly at her. "How could you hear all that?"

"I had my door open, duh," she says taken aback. "Not like I was spying or something, Miss Saehara. I was talking to a friend."

"Then what?"

"The next thing I know, Eileen, I mean, your mum whips open you door." She demonstrates. "Just whips it open. And out she cones. Now, I don't mean to, like, scare you or anything, but she just didn't seem herself. A little...wild eyed, I would say."

"Wild eyed?"

"That's right. She can't find any washing powder, she says, and is going to the store to get some."

"What? Is she nuts? We just bought a humongous tub of laundry soap, two days ago, together." I walk to the little closet where we keep the cleaning stuff. I point to the yellow tub. "See? It's right here. No way she could've missed that."

"Maybe she didn't look in here."

"But this is where we always keep it."

"Well, I wouldn't know about that," Mrs Lockhart says. "She was muttering something about the car. But I don't think she should drive. She seems very upset. Maybe you can catch her in the parking garage. She can drive you to your lesson and get the washing powder."

"We don't need more – oh, right! Good idea."

I get my music case, usher Mrs Lockhart out and fly to the elevator. It stops at the second and the third floors on its way up.

I push 'p' and hope for a speedy descent to the underground parking. No such luck. We stop on every floor. I am gnawing my lower lip by the time I get off.

"Please, please, let me see that green car. Please, please, be there."

I turn the corner. The car is right where it should be. Mum is frantically trying to get the key in the lock.

"What are you doing?" I sound as pissed off as I feel.

"Stay back," she says. Her voice shaking. Her eyes do have a wild look.

"What do you mean 'stay back'?"

"Stay back," she repeats, thrusting her key ring into my hands. "Take them. Just don't hurt me."

Tears flood into my eyes. "What? I'm not going to mug you. Oh, Mum, what's the matter with you?" She stares vacantly. Frustrated, I stamp my foot like I used to when I was little kid and not getting what I wanted. Right now, I want my mother to be herself. I want my mother to know who I am. "It's me. Namine. Your daughter! And I'm not old enough to drive. Why are you doing this?"

"Daughter? Namine! Of course." She laughs nervously and straightens her jacket. My jacket – the denim one with the fringes. It's as though she's only pretending to know who I am. I don't understand. She must be sick, very very sick. I have to get her upstairs. I have to get her to a doctor. Quick!

She tosses her head and says, "I couldn't see very well. This place needs better lighting. I couldn't find the right key. I've fiddled with it so long that I've forgotten where I wanted to go."

She starts to sob, deep heartbreaking groans. I take her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder, which means she has to bend down a little.

"I'm so scared," she says, "I think I'm losing my mind, Namine. I'm so scared."

She's scared. I'm petrified.

I stroke her hair. Usually it is silky soft and tied with a fancy bow. Today it looks as though it hasn't seen a brush for months.

"Shhh, shhh. It's all right. Let's go upstairs and I'll make us some tea."

"OK," she says, like a three year old, sniffing and wiping her nose across the sleeve of my denim jacket. She is composed by the time we reach out apartment. Mrs Lockhart is hovering in the hallway.

"Oh great, you caught up with her," she says, smiling broadly. "Now you can go to your piano lesson."

Mum turns to me, puzzled. "You have piano? Today?"

"It's Thursday, Mum."

"Well, then. You should get going." She nods towards the elevator.

"I'm going to call Mrs Gainsborough and tell her I'm not coming. You are not well."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine."

"No, you're not!"

"Namine! Don't talk to me like that." That wild look has returned to her eyes.

Mrs Lockhart pipes up. "Go to your lesson, Namine. I can stay with Eileen until you get back."

"I'm not staying with you!" shouts mum, her cheeks growing scarlet. "I don't know you."

Mrs Lockhart clamps her hand over mum's mouth. I see understanding in her eyes, and a little annoyance.

"Mum, Mrs Lockhart is only trying to help."

"I don't want her in my house," she says turning her back.

"But, Eileen," chimes Mrs Lockhart in a stroke of genius, "Surely you remember inviting me for coffee this afternoon. Oh please...don't tell me you've forgotten."

Mum brings herself to her full height. I wait for her to chew the lady's head off. Instead, she gives us both a glowing smile. My mother has never invited Mrs Lockhart or any other neighbour in for coffee – she guards her privacy – but she's so screwed up she'd rather take Mrs Lockhart's word for it than appear rude and stupid.

"How silly of me," she says, "Do come in. And don't mind the mess. I was changing the sheets on my bed."

"I know," says Mrs Lockhart. "Perhaps you'll allow me to help you with that while the coffee's brewing." She pushes my mum ahead of her and then whispers over to me, "Off you go, Nami. I'll wait her."

"Are you sure?"

She smiles. "I'll be fine. We'll have coffee – even if I wasn't invited. Your mother won't know the difference.

xXx

Woohoo feb 29th!! Well hope you'll like this chap even not much really happens but I promise next should be better and if it isn't...I'll drown myself in the toilet

Reviews are very much appreciated