Tabitha opened her eyes slowly. The first thing that crossed her mind was that she had forgotten to feed the fish last night. With a cry of frustration, she jumped up and grabbed the fish food. Sprinkling some in to the bowl, she hastily apologized to the fish. They had always been a bit frail, especially Jamaica, so she was always careful about their diets.

She pulled out one of her favorite dresses, a green striped one, and considered picking out a pair of shoes. She decided to forego the shoes, however, because she figured that she would just be hanging around the house today, working on her book. It's not like she would see anyone today.

Walking out of her room and in to the living room, she noticed that some magazines were knocked off of her table. With a sigh, she bent down and picked them up. "Lynx! What's your problem, girl? You don't knock over my magazines!" She looked around, briefly wondering where the little white cat had slipped off to. Continuing in to her parlor, she stopped dead.

"What the hell?" Her rug was missing. Her beautiful oriental rug that her mother had given her as a gift when she moved in to her new house was gone. "Oh, jeez! Did we get robbed?"

She noticed her cell phone on the ground by the wall. She picked it up and noticed that it was dead. With a grunt of annoyance, she plugged it in to the charger. She then checked the door to see if she had left i open last night. It was bolted shut.

She figured that she might have just been sleepwalking again. She had developed a terrible case of sleepwalking when she was sixteen. At one point she had actually woken her sister Ashley up at one in the morning and had driven them to Dunkin Donuts. Her sister had walked home, and the next morning Tabby had been very confused as to why she had awoken on a park bench next to five or six pigeons.

Setting about to look for the rug, she first checked in the kitchen, grabbing a banana as she entered. No rug there.

Then she decided to check in the guest room, just as she had finished the last of her breakfast. Throwing the peel away in the trash bin, she strode over to the door and opened it calmly.

She let out a terrified cry as she saw the two pimps. They hadn't moved, didn't look like they were breathing, and worse her beautiful rug had several huge bloodstains on it. And it seemed that she had repressed her memories over the night.

"Well," She muttered. "Can this day get any worse?"

It was then that she noticed the arrow sticking out of Weird Beard the blond pimp's shoulder. And the stab wound he had in his stomach. And Kili's big arrow wound that she had seen in his chest. She quickly realized that it the brother-pimps weren't dead now, the might very well be dead soon if she didn't get help.

She began pacing back and fourth manically. She quickly ruled out taking them to the hospital. Doctors would ask her questions that she din't know how to answer, and she might very well be accused of murder. Plus, her car was out of gas. So, since Tabitha was currently a rather hysterical person, and slightly selfish normally, she decided to call her older sister, Clarice, who was a med student in Pennsylvania.

She sighed, realizing that her phone wouldn't be charged enough for her to make a call. In the meantime, she decided to do the logical thing and check to see if the two dead men were truly dead.

First she checked Weird Beard. She checked his neck, and found no pulse. But, figuring that she could probably just be doing it wrong, she checked his wrist as well. Nothing. His chest was still, his skin cold and his face pale. He was dead.

Then she checked the man who had identified himself as Kili to her. The name was odd, she noted. Not entirely pimp-like, just odd. A nickname, perhaps? Yes, that must be it. "Kili" had to be a nickname.

She immediately noted that his face was normal looking, not pale like the other man's. He was clearly breathing, and he was warm when she checked his wrist. There was also a clear, strong pulse. Why, he was no more than asleep, Tabitha realized.

Surely her phone must be charged up enough to make a call by now. She ran to get it. It wasn't even ten percent charged, but it was enough to call her sister, at least. She quickly dialed. The phone rang twice before a woman's voice sounded over the line.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Clara!" Tabby greeted her sister. "It's me, Tabitha."

"Tabby? Really, now! Well, hello darling sister. How's life?" Clarice (Clara being Tabby's pet name for her) replied, sounding delighted to hear from her sister.

"Umm, it's good. Say, Clara? What do you know about stab wounds?"

"What?"

"Uh, well, you see..." Tabby searched desparetaley for an excuse before sighing in defeat. "Okay, so let's just say that you accidentally stab someone in the stomach with, umm, a knife, I think. And shoot them in the shoulder with an arrow. What do you do?"

"Tabby..."

"Clara, I swear, I'm serious here."

"Tabby, what did you do?!"

"Nothing!" Tabitha exclaimed quickly. "I- I just- Well, okay. There are two pimps in my parlor! Well, they're in the guest room now. I think one's dead."

There was a long silence before a sort of strangled sound that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob came from her sister.

"Clara? Clarice?"

"Tabitha Cheryl Creedon... Are you drunk?!" Her sister exclaimed weakly.

"What?! No, you idiot! I don't drink! And it's 10AM! Why would I be drunk?"

"Well..." Clara stuttered. "It's just that you- you're not typically this... unhinged."

"Unhinged?!"

"Tabby, look. This isn't funny, seriously. Look, if you need any help at all, you could always call my friend Kendra. She specializes in medicine, but she does some psychology work too. I don't have her number right now, but I can e-mail it to you later. Tabby, this isn't funny. I don't understand why you would do something like this, I mean- I mean..." She broke off.

"Clara, are you crying?" Tabby gasped, sitting down on the living room couch.

"I- I'm sorry Tabby, but this isn't funny at all and I'm really worried about you, okay? I'm sorry, but... I'm just really emotional right now. I'm not sure if mom told you yet but... But I'm pregnant." Clarice explained.

Tabby almost dropped the phone. Pregnant?

"Pregnant?! Clarice! Who the hell is the father?!"

"Well, Jeremy, I should hope!" Her sister snapped at her.

"Who the hell is Jeremy?!"

"My husband!"

Tabitha gasped. "You're married?!" She almost choked on her words in her shock. When did this all happen?

"Yes, I've been married for five months! You were to busy with your writing to come to my wedding! And now you phone me up saying this? Seriously, Tabby! I'll send you that number later, I'm just really angry right now!" Tabby heard a click over the phone.

"Wait, Clarice! Clarice?" Her sister had hung up.

Well, that was just great. That was wonderful. Her sister was pregnant, she was married, there was still one dead pimp in her guest room, one pimp was unconcious, both were possibly murderers, her oriental rug was stained with blood, she had a terrible headache, and the cat was missing. Could this day get any worse?

'Yes, it could,' Tabitha realized as she walked back in to the guest room to find Kili awake and staring at her.

"Oh," she muttered. "This day just got a whole lot worse."