A/N: Thank you guys! I really need more reviews, though, so that I know
whether to keep this story on ff.net or not. I'm really bombarded with
work, and I need to know whether to keep writing or to remove the story. I
think if you give me 3 or 4 good ones... you guys really are the best, and
your reviews have really helped me. But please, please, please... I really
need to know whether or not to finish the story. Your support really helps.
(Kisses) I love you all!
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Roxanne sat upright on the stiff cot, her back as rigid as a board. Her eyes were still tightly closed, and her hands were groping in the air, as if trying to grasp an invisible hand. Luke gently eased her against the fortress of pillows leaning against the wall, rubbing her back and murmuring incoherent words. "Take me instead... Take me instead..." she shrieked, writhing underneath the tangled sheets. She licked parched lips and shrank away from Luke, her eyes opening slightly, so she could only see a hazy mist of colour. "Don't hurt me, please!" she squeaked out, edging away from Luke until she had plastered herself against the wall, bringing the whirl of ashen coloured bed sheets with her.
"It's okay, Roxanne, it's me, Luke. Remember, the guy with the hair that looks like a rat died, who makes fun of your best friend, but secretly likes her, whose life is messed up, and get's confused all the time? That's me." Luke nodded his head sullenly, staring at the peeling wallpaper of the room. The green wallpaper was decorated with huge, oversized bright yellow sunflowers. The wallpaper was mismatched, so some flowers had two centres, like some kind of floral mutant. Luke glanced back at Roxanne, who was finally starting to gain her senses. Understanding filled her eyes. "What are you doing here? And, where's Meg? Where's Meg? Why isn't Meg with you? And, why I am I screaming so loud?" She asked frantically, her voice going up a notch every time she spoke. She braced her hands on his shoulders and shook him.
"Because I feel like it, I'm not sure, I'm not sure, and because she's not here, and I have NO idea," he replied, ticking his fingers off, while flicking away from Roxanne's iron-grip. "You women sure can squeeze and scream when you feel the need to," he complained, kneading his raw muscles like a piece of fresh dough. Roxanne pouted, and gently cradled her throbbing fingers to her bosom. "Well, you didn't have to HIT me," she whined, her lip curled down and her perfectly shaped eyebrows knit tightly together. Then, realization hit her hard. She jumped up off the divan and seized Luke's shoulders once again. "Ow," he complained, his face contorting into his own version of a pout. "Listen here, mister, and listen good. We're going to do everything we can to find Meg, you hear? Whatever it takes, as many broken nails as it needs, I'm ready." She released her vice-like grip from Luke's tender shoulders and stood up straight, jutting her thumb into her chest.
"Um, you might want to change out of your long johns, first, Roxanne. Don't want to startle any squirrels out of their trees, now do we?" He teased, relishing the flustered reaction that Roxanne delivered. "Just so you know, there are no squirrels at this time of the year, and secondly, I was just about to change," she haughtily replied, striding away arrogantly. Forgetting about the trail of sheets that was streaming behind her, she tripped over a cream coloured bed sheet, and tumbled down, exposing her cotton covered bottom for everyone to see. Luke stifled a snort, and turned around to see a squirrel plummet out of a tree and scurry away, his tiny paws drumming on the asphalt road.
"Wrong about two things now, are we now?" He grinned, enjoying every minute of her tomato coloured face. "Oh, don't worry dear, I'm sure it was all a coincidence. He was just acting a little squirrelly, isn't that right." He leisurely checked his wristwatch. "Run along now, sweetie, we don't want to startle anyone else." He smiled innocently and swivelled around sharply, leaving Roxanne to tend her sore bottom, and to smoulder at Luke's poised back.
As soon as Luke was sure that Roxanne had padded softly away, tears filled his eyes. A long crow perched atop a snow-laden branch cawed, flailing his wings furiously. Within seconds, he thrashed his black feathers until he soared past the horizon, only a speck of black against the sapphire sky. As a lone tear slowly inched down his cheek, he propped his chin on the nest of his hands and watched as the crow gradually grew smaller and smaller, until he totally disappeared.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Roxanne sat upright on the stiff cot, her back as rigid as a board. Her eyes were still tightly closed, and her hands were groping in the air, as if trying to grasp an invisible hand. Luke gently eased her against the fortress of pillows leaning against the wall, rubbing her back and murmuring incoherent words. "Take me instead... Take me instead..." she shrieked, writhing underneath the tangled sheets. She licked parched lips and shrank away from Luke, her eyes opening slightly, so she could only see a hazy mist of colour. "Don't hurt me, please!" she squeaked out, edging away from Luke until she had plastered herself against the wall, bringing the whirl of ashen coloured bed sheets with her.
"It's okay, Roxanne, it's me, Luke. Remember, the guy with the hair that looks like a rat died, who makes fun of your best friend, but secretly likes her, whose life is messed up, and get's confused all the time? That's me." Luke nodded his head sullenly, staring at the peeling wallpaper of the room. The green wallpaper was decorated with huge, oversized bright yellow sunflowers. The wallpaper was mismatched, so some flowers had two centres, like some kind of floral mutant. Luke glanced back at Roxanne, who was finally starting to gain her senses. Understanding filled her eyes. "What are you doing here? And, where's Meg? Where's Meg? Why isn't Meg with you? And, why I am I screaming so loud?" She asked frantically, her voice going up a notch every time she spoke. She braced her hands on his shoulders and shook him.
"Because I feel like it, I'm not sure, I'm not sure, and because she's not here, and I have NO idea," he replied, ticking his fingers off, while flicking away from Roxanne's iron-grip. "You women sure can squeeze and scream when you feel the need to," he complained, kneading his raw muscles like a piece of fresh dough. Roxanne pouted, and gently cradled her throbbing fingers to her bosom. "Well, you didn't have to HIT me," she whined, her lip curled down and her perfectly shaped eyebrows knit tightly together. Then, realization hit her hard. She jumped up off the divan and seized Luke's shoulders once again. "Ow," he complained, his face contorting into his own version of a pout. "Listen here, mister, and listen good. We're going to do everything we can to find Meg, you hear? Whatever it takes, as many broken nails as it needs, I'm ready." She released her vice-like grip from Luke's tender shoulders and stood up straight, jutting her thumb into her chest.
"Um, you might want to change out of your long johns, first, Roxanne. Don't want to startle any squirrels out of their trees, now do we?" He teased, relishing the flustered reaction that Roxanne delivered. "Just so you know, there are no squirrels at this time of the year, and secondly, I was just about to change," she haughtily replied, striding away arrogantly. Forgetting about the trail of sheets that was streaming behind her, she tripped over a cream coloured bed sheet, and tumbled down, exposing her cotton covered bottom for everyone to see. Luke stifled a snort, and turned around to see a squirrel plummet out of a tree and scurry away, his tiny paws drumming on the asphalt road.
"Wrong about two things now, are we now?" He grinned, enjoying every minute of her tomato coloured face. "Oh, don't worry dear, I'm sure it was all a coincidence. He was just acting a little squirrelly, isn't that right." He leisurely checked his wristwatch. "Run along now, sweetie, we don't want to startle anyone else." He smiled innocently and swivelled around sharply, leaving Roxanne to tend her sore bottom, and to smoulder at Luke's poised back.
As soon as Luke was sure that Roxanne had padded softly away, tears filled his eyes. A long crow perched atop a snow-laden branch cawed, flailing his wings furiously. Within seconds, he thrashed his black feathers until he soared past the horizon, only a speck of black against the sapphire sky. As a lone tear slowly inched down his cheek, he propped his chin on the nest of his hands and watched as the crow gradually grew smaller and smaller, until he totally disappeared.