Readers, we love you all. One thing, however, disturbed Stephie and I when we saw some of the reviews for chapter eight… that your faith had pretty much been restored in Paul after he decided to let her go.

People! Just because he couldn't – gah, Aina said it pretty well:

I read through the reviews and someone mentioned how there is some goodness in Paul at the end, because he didn't want to rape Suze. I don't think it's goodness, I actually think it's selfishness. He wanted Suze to WANT him, so that he wouldn't feel guilty about what he had done to Jesse and what he's making Suze do.

Sorry for the long time in updating…

Please review.

Lolly and Steph.

-F&I-

The drive home felt positively dreamlike. That wasn't to say it was a bowl of ice-cream, oh no. It didn't feel real, though. There wasn't a single part of my body that could commit myself to actually being there. I couldn't even remember any of it; mainly, it was just a blur of shocked tears and trembling hands on the cold steering wheel.

It was so, so quiet…

I pulled up in my driveway after what had been an eternity of nothingness, having no idea how I'd gotten there safely. God knows I hadn't been able to see the road clearly. Undoing my seatbelt, I escaped the car on numb, quivering legs. Again, it was as if I'd blacked out because suddenly I was walking into my bedroom with no memory of how I came to be there. This scared me. Just being here with the lights on made what had just happened seem untrue. Surely, that couldn't have taken place… not when my bedroom light shone so brightly. Surely, in the warmth of my room, pure evil couldn't really exist, could it?

And yet, it did. It resided in Scenic Drive.

I placed my keys on the table. The loud clang startled me – it had been more noise than I had expected. Careful of my unsteady legs, I sank into the chair before my desk. I looked up accidentally at the mirror before be… and the face that gazed back at me was one of frozen pain: wide, dull green eyes and ashen skin - trails of moisture descending down sickly cheeks; lips that could not close no sooner than they could stop shaking.

I touched them, never tearing my petrified gaze from my reflected eyes. My fingers felt freezing against my mouth. I covered it with my hand, feeling the constant tremble of my jaw. I waited silently for my features to smooth, for my eyes to blink, but they were either stubborn or they were simply incapable. Accepting that this now wouldn't happen, my gaze flickered away from the mirror and I glanced around my room apprehensively.

Not even daring to believe it would work, I hissed, '…Jesse?'

He would not come.

'Jesse?' I said, my voice louder and twice as panicked.

Only silence and stillness greeted me.

I was alone.

My eyes landed on my bed, and catching me completely off guard was the half-scream that was ripped from my unwilling throat. I stood up and staggered away from it, as if it held some hidden threat. I turned away, feeling the shaking return to me full force.

I couldn't explain why I reacted so adversely or why I couldn't at least control myself now… but seeing my bed –

I knew that it'd be a long time before I could call it a place of rest.

Not that I would have tried, but it was as if I simply couldn't remember everything that had just taken place with Paul. I was perfectly content in not recalling, though. As stunned and as cold as I was now, I knew there was a much worse condition for me to be in.

Abject despair…

My hands were still trembling. I glanced down at them forlornly, suddenly needing them to be occupied with some meaningless task. With another blink of nothingness, I was in my wardrobe, picking up a blanket that had fallen on the floor. I folded it quickly…

I needed something else to do. I needed distraction… I could already feel my memory bleeding back to me, clawing at me and dragging me into awareness once more, where only pain awaited.

I needed to keep moving…keep my hands busy…

Otherwise I'd remember.

Remember how much I needed… him.

And I'd remember that he was gone.

I gasped unexpectedly, pushing my fist against my lips in horror. I needed to stay together. I couldn't fall apart, and succumb to the endlessness. I couldn't, or –

- Or I might not be brave enough to do what was necessary to bring him back…

Unable to even contemplate the thought of being in my bed, I moved unsteadily to my window. It was misty from the night's chill. As I pulled the glass open, a soft gust of cold breath swarmed around me, clinging coldly to my icy skin. I shivered, glad to finally find a scapegoat as to why I was freezing. I settled down on the window seat, tugging the blanket in my arms over me. My eyes stung from the breeze.

The sky was dead. Black painted over my stars, forbidding me from seeing them. I clung my knees into my chest, quivering despite my blanket.

'Jesse…'

My voice frightened me… I'd never sounded so weak. 'I'll bring you home, I swear…'

The first sob broke free loudly, cutting a hole in my heart. I winced from the terrible pain.

'Please…don't hate me for all this, I beg of you…Jesse, I'm so sorry…'

How he could possibly forgive me for my unchaste methods of returning him to safety? Not to mention, it was a very small chance that Paul would stay true to his word… God, I had no idea of knowing if Paul was even telling the truth about Jesse still existing. For all I knew, he could have been exorcised to hell and beyond, and Paul was just planning to manipulate me in my clueless state.

But, did I have any other choice than to hope that Jesse was still out there?

What was the other option?

To crash, here and now?

Give up?

Because if I was wrong, and Jesse was still waiting for me…then I was sentencing him to some unknown hellish torture beyond my nightmares. I just couldn't take that chance, and risk his suffering…

He'd never, ever do that to me.

I needed to do whatever it took to bring him back to me, even if it played into Paul's dark fantasy of having ultimate power over me.

He owned me now.

After I exhaled, I stared as my hazy white breath drifted eerily outward. My hands looked a ghostly white. As I breathed in, I could feel a wretched coldness invading my lungs and freezing my body from the inside. My throat ached from the raw attack of ice.

If only I could stay under this wintry thrall… perhaps it would save me from the destructive heat that Paul had in store for me? Could this ice preserve my soul that little bit longer?

I had to wait for him… I couldn't give up…

I loved him too much to sacrifice him to my own torment. It was an insult to his goodness.

And so, I waited. Armed pitifully with my thin blanket – but physically too frozen to move and get something more appropriate – I leant against the sharp, numbing pane of glass.

Hours slithered by at a cruel pace, and I remained locked in place within my state of semi-consciousness. Just as the sky began to become flecked with signs of sunlight, I felt myself slide away…

I was falling.

Falling was good…

I wanted to fall forever.

I just knew that sooner or later, I was going to land with full force.

-F&I-

I woke up, shivering. For a strange, surreal moment, I hadn't any idea where, or who I was. As I turned my head a little, my bleary eyes drank in the huge window frame above me. I frowned, and closed them again disappointedly. Why had I slept in front of an open window? That was…stupid.

I definitely didn't feel like I had just slept. It was like I had closed my eyes one minute and opened them from a disturbance only seconds later. My thin blanket had fallen off of me in the middle of my limited sleep, and I was suddenly aware of how cold I was.

So unbelievably cold...

A low, sinister fog cloaked my bedroom floor. It certainly wasn't thick enough that I couldn't see my own feet, but its presence scared me…

Every other morning, my window – which was left open as I fell asleep – had been firmly closed.

Not this morning, though.

This morning, the fog had been let in…

After a moment, strength returned to me… well, at least enough to attempt movement. The first thing I noticed was the massive strain in my neck that I tried to flex out, as well as pains in all my other bones. I felt sore, like a tractor had just run over me.

I stood up slowly, my bones creaking painfully as I started walking across towards my bathroom.

I couldn't form a cohesive thought. My brain was dead and I felt numb. Not sad, or angry or anything.

Just numb.

The only thing I could think of right then, was "Bath." That word seemed to soothe me. As if, in relieving one pain, it would prepare me to kick the ass of another. This was some comfort. After shutting the door, putting the plug in the bottom of my tub and running the warm water, I started gingerly undressing. Why was I so goddamn sore? It couldn't have possibly been just from last night's sleeping arrangement –

That's when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. And I saw.

Bruises.

I blinked, bemused. Running cold fingertips down my arm, I cautiously skimmed over the purple circles of skin that covered a considerable area above my right elbow. Four circles…spaced evenly apart.

From four fingers.

That held me down.

My wrists were the worst though. There were large red welts enclosing them like bands of claim. I thought back to those weird psychic handcuffs that Paul had just…created. How they'd dug at my skin as I tried to squirm out of them –

A horrible red mark stained my throat, which looked exactly like what it was. I saw a suggestion of teeth, and looked away before I broke.

I just stared in some kind of awe at what this body now looked like.

Surely it was a corpse…

Darkness marred my lower lids, announcing my lack of sleep to the world. My skin, normally fair, was now deathly pale. I closed my eyes and wished the reflection away, but upon opening them again, the sickly corpse remained.

This grotesque reflection held me captive until I heard the trickling of bathwater spilling over the edge. Snapping out of it, I quickly turned off the water. I plunged my hand down and grabbed the plug to allow some water to drain, before I descended in as soon as I knew I wouldn't make it overflow again.

The relief was only temporary. Whilst warm water cured my chronic shivering, it offered no further comfort.

Jesse, I kept thinking. Jesse…hear me, wherever you are…

I knew he wouldn't show, though. He was gone. Or trapped…I really had no way of knowing which…

All I knew was, Jesse was a fighter. If he was somewhere that was bust-out-able, I knew he'd be out of there in a heartbeat. The fact that he wasn't here only made it clear to me.

He was really gone.

I sank deeper, too tired for tears…

– Suddenly, I lurched over the side of the bathtub, coughing up a lungful of water, gasping for air. Furious at myself for falling asleep in a freakin' bath, I shakily emerged and wrapped myself tightly with my towel. My fingers were prune-y and my skin felt like rubber. It was now seven thirty, so that put my sleeping time up to approximately two hours. I debated whether there was any point in getting dressed and going out to face the meaningless day, but decided he wouldn't have wanted me to let me despair consume me.

The phone rang, but I let someone else answer it. It was rarely for me anyway –

Wrong again.

My mother's still practically asleep voice croaked from her room, 'Suze…it's for you…'

I answered my extension.

'What?' I grunted in greeting.

'Susannah,' said an anxious voice on the other line. My heart seized up, as a sudden guilt devastated my being. Oh my God. Father Dominic couldn't know what I did… It was hard enough now having to live with my stupid mistake, but if he found out what I'd done…

I breathed in sharply.

'Listen, I'm sorry to call you so early, but Jesse was supposed to be meeting me last night, and he…er, he didn't arrive.' A judgemental tone entered his voice. 'Did he spend the night with you?'

'I – '

He groaned. 'I won't pretend I'm not disapproving,' he said with an essence of severity, 'After he assured me that the two of you had…"broken up"... But I really do need to see Jesse immediately. Could you ask him to come here now? He won't answer my calling, which is highly inappropriate –'

'I don't know where he is, Father,' I said honestly, reigning in my own misery. 'I haven't seen him since last night either.'

There was a silence.

'Is that so?' he said finally, sounding confused. He believed me.

'Yes,' I replied, my voice starting to clam up. 'I have to go, sorry – '

'Wherever could he be, Susannah?'

'I don't know…'

It was the truth, too.

'Don't go yet, I need to –'

'I'm sorry,' I whispered breathlessly, before hanging up, unable to speak. My throat was unbearably tight. My chest was starting to heave with laboured breath. I gripped the side of my neck with the hand that wasn't holding up my towel, as if trying to draw the pain in my throat out.

Strangely enough, I could breathe again.

I dressed quickly, wearing a lot of seemingly unnecessary accessories to hide certain parts of my body. I concealed my hideous wrists with armies of bangles, bracelets and wrist bands, and I wore a long sleeved polo-neck to keep everything else out of sight.

No one would know.

-F&I-

Within the hour, I was back at the Second Time Around Bookstore. It seemed like many long and tiring years since I'd set foot in there, when in reality it'd only been four day. As I walked through the doors, a shock of bright colours hit me.

I blinked irritably.

'Suze!' a voice sounded in what could only be described as pure joy. I turned around and saw Robbie, flecked with paint, advancing on me. I smiled thinly. 'Hey.'

As he got closer, he stopped. 'Are you okay?' he wanted to know. 'You don't look so good.'

I shrugged. 'Didn't sleep. I'm fine.'

Dismissing this in favour for getting back to the missing-me thing, he gave me a hug – unintentionally transferring a splodge of paint from his and onto my own face. He didn't seem to notice, and I didn't seem to care.

'What's new here?' I asked him vaguely, feeling somehow far away. I knew that I was here, but it didn't feel real. How could normal things possibly exist at a time like this? It seemed wrong…

He hadn't stopped looking at me since I'd walked in. This made me uncomfortable, and I looked down.

'Well,' he said happily, but with some distraction, 'CeeCee hasn't been in since the other day, because she actually has a job. Adam and I have been painting the walls, and my brother came in to install some new lights… and I started on my pictures, although they're not very good yet – '

'Where?' I interrupted, glancing back up at him. Now that I looked closer, I saw that he wasn't looking too flash himself. His nose looked kind of swollen, and the skin under his eyes looked like it was being pulled to either side of his face. His eyes looked bloodshot, and he looked generally pale and clammy.

'Whoa,' I said after a moment. 'You look like crap.'

He just appeared embarrassed. 'I'm fine too,' he said, before grinning lamely. 'We're both not going to admit anything, so let's just move on.'

'Okay,' I agreed. 'Now where's your painting?'

A little colour returned to his cheeks as he flushed happily. 'Here…' He grabbed my hand and pulled me past one of the bookshelves –

…Wow.

Across the entire back wall – in dark pencil, with only some occasional splashes of colour committed to the wall – was a picture of a girl riding a robust looking horse, holding a large sword which was plunged in the direction of a dragon. A sinister looking man was astride the evil dragon, which was breathing fire in the horse's direction. Upon another inspection, I noticed a long, slightly curving horn on the horse's forehead.

There were no features in the faces of the two characters, but everything else was sketched perfectly.

'That took me two days,' he said, sounding exhausted at the thought. He pointed up to the dragon, of which he had begun one of the wings – a stark black and red. 'I think its wings are too big…they're too big, right?'

'No…' I shook my head.

I looked back at the girl mounted on the…well, the unicorn, I guess. A soft dress was flowing around her legs as she rode, whipped back by the obvious speed at which she travelled. But what drew my eyes most was the pendant which hung from her neck.

A snowflake.

I don't know why, but it made my breath shudder.

I turned away, smiling sadly. 'It's really good,' I assured him. 'Is that the only picture you're going to do?'

'Nope,' he responded, looking at me curiously. 'I'm going to chuck something up above the counter, wherever we end up eventually putting it…'

I nodded.

'Oh, and I'm also getting heaps of new books for Mr. and Mrs. Hughes to sell,' Robbie looked very pleased with himself. 'My dad said he'd send one of his people around with them today.'

'One of his people?' I asked, only half catching what he was saying.

'Um…yeah. A lot of people work for him…'

When Mr. Hughes came in a little later, he designated me to sorting out books, so I was putting them in different genres. He was helping me, but it was the fact that this job had to take place in the room I'd last been happy with Jesse, that was killing me. In that little adjoining apartment room, we'd been so close to…

…Now I'd never know.

Not with him, anyway.

I had no idea what I was doing. My thoughts were anywhere but on task. I didn't want to be here… I wanted to be…I don't know, doing something to try and get Jesse back. Like researching in old musty ancient texts for portals into netherworlds, not flicking through paper back novels to see if it was historical romance or sci-fi.

A few hours went by when CeeCee and Adam showed up.

'Simon!' Adam hollered when he caught sight of me, 'Back with a vengeance, I see – whoa. You look sicker than my great grandpa. Who's dead. Yeah, you look sicker.'

I rolled my eyes, not really in the mood to acknowledge him more than that.

Adam, unable to respond to an unresponsive me, stood there awkwardly for a second before going to harass Robbie. CeeCee on the other hand showed up right in front of me, looking concerned.

'Adam may not reside in Tactville, but there was some truth in that. You don't look so good, Suze. Is everything okay?'

'It's great,' I said flatly, leafing through a yellowing novella and avoiding her eye-contact.

I had no concrete way of knowing, but I had a feeling she was still staring at me. Finally, I looked up at her again. 'What?'

She bit her lip, before kneeling down in front of me. 'What's happened to you, Suze?' she whispered. 'Something has… You just look…I don't know. Like you just lost a limb.'

Hadn't I?

'Suze,' she pressed on. I doggedly threw my current book into the poetry stack. 'Please, talk to me…I know you well enough to know that you're gonna bottle this up rather than actually tell someone you need help, and that is so not healthy – '

She stopped rapidly. I glanced at her again, and noticed she wasn't looking at my face.

'What happened to your wrist?' she gasped, seizing it.

I yelped in pain, before tugging it away angrily. 'None of your business,' I snapped, crossing my arms to hide my hands. 'God, grabby much?'

'God, defensive much?' she countered. 'What's going on?'

'NOTHING,' I exploded, kicking the books in front of my viciously. It was the room…it was remembering, him, what almost – what I'd lost… 'You just push and push, don't you?'

CeeCee's face was blank. 'I was just worried…'

'And I told you to back off!' I spat acidly.

'Suze,' her voice sounded hurt. She went to gingerly touch my arm, but I just…I flipped. 'Just STOP,' I yelled, shoving her back.

She stumbled.

And fell.

I just stood there, my eyes wide; shocked. CeeCee glared at me. All I could do was…stare. I stepped back fearfully, scared I'd hurt her any more. My apology was on the tip of my tongue, but it was too late. She'd already got to her feet, muttered a furious, 'Whatever,' and was gone.

I walked out of the bedroom and back into the chaotic store. All eyes fell on me. I breathed in deeply, trying to ignore how ashamed I felt. 'What?' I demanded of Adam, who was being particularly obvious in his gawking. He just shoved his hands up in an I-surrender manner, and continued mixing paint for Robbie.

I'd just…attacked CeeCee. No I didn't… I just reacted, because she was being such a –

A friend, Suze. She was concerned. You try to maim everyone who tries to freakin' help you?

What are you?

Breaking the silence was Robbie, who coughed vigorously, unable to contain it any longer for the sake of suspense. The gazes fell from me finally. Mr. Hughes, looking nervous, asked Robbie, 'You all right, sonny Jim?'

Rasping slightly, the kid nodded but didn't say anything. He went back to his painting, on which he'd made quite a bit of progress.

My employer looked at his watch suddenly. 'Oh goodness, that the time, eh? Well, I've got to go see young Miranda… Better I go there than she come here and see what we're up to, oh, there's no living with her when she's all mad at me…' He pulled on his coat, and disappeared out the front door.

I'm guessing he just doesn't like crazy people.

We're closer than you think.

Dejected, tired, hating myself and inwardly asking what I did WRONG, I asked Robbie, 'Is there anything I can do to help? I'm so sick of books at the moment…'

He lowered his brush and turned to look at me. 'Um. Not that I know of.'

'Oh,' I said, dismayed.

With that, I turned on my heel and went back into the other room. I stared at the piles and piles of books everywhere, before heaving a huge sigh of exhaustion, and crumpling onto the mattress…

-F&I-

Poke.

Another poke. Harder this time.

And another…

And an-OW, BRUISE…

I jerked up, making my head swim – 'What?' I demanded. Robbie sat worriedly on the bed beside me. 'Are you okay?' he checked. 'We didn't realise you fell asleep…we were calling, and you wouldn't wake up. Adam said you'd died.'

'I wish,' I mumbled.

'There's someone here to see you,' he went on. 'That mean guy.'

My mind suddenly woke up. '…What? He's here?'

Robbie looked apologetic. 'I can tell him to go away,' he promised me. I got the impression that he'd have liked nothing better than to do this.

Having Paul not here right now would have also done me wonders - the seven wonders of the freakin' world, in fact. However, the possibility of him acting vengefully after this rejection made my blood run cold. What if he took it out on Jesse?

So despite how much every quivering cell of my genetic makeup screamed in protest, I pulled myself up from the bed, and breathed in.

All the oxygen in the world couldn't save me.

Marching out – well, more like scuttling – I went into the main part of the bookstore once more…

And there he was, back towards me, quietly observing Robbie's artwork across the posterior wall. How a boy of eighteen could have inspired such horrible physical reactions within me, I would never know. Already, I could feel an icy chill suffocating me.

'I hope you don't expect her to be the…"victorious" one,' Paul remarked coldly of the female unicorn-rider to Robbie, who was standing loyally beside me. He turned and glanced at me, before fixing an arrogant eye on the little artist. 'The man on the dragon is clearly going to burn her to a crisp.'

'She's powerful too, even if she doesn't look it,' Robbie argued back. 'Good always conquers evil.'

Paul smirked wryly. 'Oh, I wouldn't say that…'

I paled as his blue-eyed gaze swerved back to me.

'Naïve,' he said simply, obviously referring to Robbie.

Adam stood up, staring with distaste at Paul. 'Riiiight…' he mumbled awkwardly. 'Well, Slater. What are you going here? Oh wait – I know! Always pegged you for the closet Sweet-Valley-High fan…' He proceeded to throw the book in question at Paul, who didn't bother catching it. He just let it fall to the floor, before walking all over it disrespectfully in order to come and stand in front of me.

'A moment of your time, Suze?' he said quietly.

Guiltily, I shuffled with him into the corner, away from Robbie's defensive ears.

Once he had me relatively alone, his smirk – which he'd been toying with ever since my arrival – widened sinisterly. 'How are you doing then?' he wanted to know.

For once, I didn't restrain any of the hate that flooded from my eyes. 'Don't pretend that you care about me in the slightest,' I spat in hushed tones. 'This whole thing is unbearable enough without any pretence.'

'But I do,' he countered, acting as though this statement had hurt him. 'Care about you, I mean.'

I smiled humourlessly, shaking my head. 'You have a fucked up way of showing it…'

'We hurt the ones we love, I guess,' was his defence.

I hadn't the energy or the courage to launch into my hearts-as-cold-as-yours-aren't-capable-of-love theory. Instead, I pressed my hands against my face, trying to steady my breathing.

This was…mad.

I could feel Adam's and Robbie's eyes on me. They couldn't hear this whispered conversation, though. Thank God…

'What are you doing here?' I asked him slowly. 'You don't do social calls.'

He ran a finger discreetly down my arm; a tiny movement which made me shiver. 'Came to tell you. Be at my place at midnight.'

I looked up at him in horror. I guess in some Miracle Land existing only in my head, I'd hoped that I'd have longer… that he'd give me more time to come to terms with…this.

I was wrong.

'What?' he interrupted my private turmoil. 'You didn't think I'd wait forever, right? God, it was hard enough letting you go last night…'

I dropped my gaze, unable to look at something so callous.

I couldn't do this…I couldn't… I had to.

'Okay. Midnight,' I said tonelessly.

Every part of my body shook with fear at the thought.

Interrupting the appalling silence, Robbie's wavering voice floated in with, 'Suze…we need you to – '

'She's still busy,' Paul replied loudly, his lips thinning slightly. His hand gripped my wrist so I wouldn't leave.

'I work here. I have work-y things to do now. Go,' I glared at him, desperately channelling all fear into my hatred for him. I didn't want to be weak… I wanted to be strong, and capable of saving myself from this terrible fate. And even if I wasn't, I wanted to appear it.

However, the point of this exercise was not for me to stay just because Paul wanted to talk to me still, it turned out.

The point was that I was meant to stay simply because Paul said so.

'You still don't get it, do you?' Paul smiled unpleasantly at me. 'That wasn't up for negotiation… If I tell you to do something from now on, it's done. Consider yourself mine, Suze.'

I stared determinedly at the wall of the corner I was trapped in, breathing erratically.

'You can't control water,' he hissed at me. 'It's too wild, too…ever-moving. But, you can contain it…limit it. Or better yet, you can freeze it. To have that kind of power… it's intoxicating,' he concluded with a leering smirk. His finger brushed the side of my face. I didn't flinch.

'Suze,' Robbie said nervously, obviously trying to save me with subtlety, 'You have to do…that thing. Like, now.'

I blinked, staring at Paul's pale eyes. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

My voice cracked as it came out, but I had to say it. Paul was right. With leverage like that which he had, I couldn't be defiant…

'No,' I snapped back at Robbie. 'I'm busy, Robbie.'

Embarrassed silence greeted me.

'…Oh,' Robbie mumbled. '…Um, sorry…'

Paul's eyes sparkled with triumph.

'That's my girl,' he commended patronisingly. 'Now, was that so hard?'

I didn't reply. I just tried to keep breathing.

Paul pulled back just a little bit, still regarding me obsessively. 'I am going to enjoy this.'

With that, he turned and made for the door as if our interlude had had no effect on him whatsoever.

'Paul,' I called shakily.

He turned from the doorway, brows arched. 'What?'

'You know… you can't stop a… a tidal wave by freezing it,' I rebutted his metaphor.

He smiled.

'I just did, Suze.'

And he was gone.