Disclaimer: I don't own Mirai Nikki or any references mentioned.

Warning: Brief descriptions of injury and mild swearing.

Chapter 11

Q&A

13:10 [Park]
The soda machine is broken. Just my luck.

Robin kicked the machine. It wasn't a hard kick, just one enough to get the point across that he was less then contempt at that instance. The tips of his toes were still pricking when he had returned to the bench where Spencer and Mona had seated themselves at opposite ends of the bench, leaving him to fill the space between. They really wouldn't listen to what he had to say and this ordeal was looking more and more like a lost cause.

"Soda machine is broken." Robin said dully, kicking at the ground. He almost apologized but he didn't feel sorry. It was dumb of him to even begin to feel the need to apologize for something that wasn't even in his control- what was he thinking? Robin had far more taxing issues right now to deal with then a damned soda machine. He always had been easily distracted and being up to his nose in stress was apparently no exception to the matter… this was just the beginning of his worries.

No one had really taken much notice of him in the past days and even months before he had gotten himself into this mess. It wasn't a real change of pace when he said that no one listened to him, but with Spencer and Mona, no words of his own could ever make it into one of their conversations without being threatened in some fashion. It was annoying to say the very least.

He took a step forward to sit down, but stopped. Instead, he settled on crisp grass. It was a bit damp and he figured that the ends of his jeans would be wet but that wasn't what he called a difficult situation. However, the two headstrong females casting unfavorable glances in Robin's direction all because he had opted to sit on the grass was a bit uncalled for. Of course they weren't mad about that, but his brain chose to take that way out even just for a second.

The wind picked up, causing Mona's braids to smack lightly against her face. She crinkled her nose and readjusted herself. Spencer was sitting, knees crossed and hands folded in her lap. The sun's light reflected off her golden hair making it look like it was glowing. The two nodded in response to the comment about the soda machine not presently working.

A scowl wormed its way onto Spencer's face. "Why did you bring us here?" She messed with a novelty ring on her left hand. Robin had observed her doing that multiple times and had written it down as a nervous reaction.

"Yeah," Mona piped in. "I liked the coffee shop better." She sniffed and made a face that one made when they had smelt something awful. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately anymore and especially when Spencer was around.

Robin almost found it comical how different they acted with him and with each other, but somewhere in him he just couldn't bring himself to laugh about it. "I just figured we could all use some fresh air." He stood up and stretched his arms. They were lanky and a bit too long for the jacket he was wearing, but he didn't mind. Mrs. Kingston had gotten it for him on a business trip to Bumblefluff, New York. He really had no idea what his mom did for a living or where she had gotten the jacket. Robin just knew that she was gone most days and that she seemed to be happy which was good enough for him. "I also need to talk to you both about something."

Spencer's brows piqued in curiosity. "And what would that be?"

"Yeah, shoot." Mona cast an unreadable expression at the fellow blonde next to her.

Robin cleared his throat. "It's not really a question, but an observation I guess."

"And?" Mona said.

"And I'm just worried about this."

"Is it about The Game or us in particular." Spencer unfolded her hands. Her expression seemed to know the answer. Robin was consistently grateful for her ability to read situations... as long as Mona wasn't involved. "I'm worried myself." Her gaze shifted to avoid the sun shining in her eyes.

Mona made a noise to agree. "No one has... died yet right? There are still 12 of us left?"

Robin shrugged.

Spencer nodded slowly. "As far as I know, yes."

"That's 12 people out to kill us and we take up three of those slots."

"What are you trying to say?" Robin asked, picking at the grass and crunching it into tiny pieces. When he was younger he would pretend it was confetti, but that habit had long since passed his fancy.

"I don't know." Mona sighed exasperatedly. "I guess I'm trying to be passive aggressive for once. I don't want to hurt anyone. I may act all tough but, I don't know."

A wave of silence spread over the three. No one knew what to say anymore or what to do they are just kids after all. The villains after their blood were probably older, wiser. Robin shook his head. They couldn't be called villains. They were only after the same thing they were after. He wished that he could've just sucked up his father's death like a normal child. Cried a bit, maybe became apathetic and had to go to therapy, but no. He had made a deal to participate in a death match out of spite for the world. The world that did this to him- but he didn't cope normally and this was something he wound have to deal with eventually. If he did win, could he even bring his dad back? There were so many unanswered questions swirling around in his head, it was becoming his entire existence.

Out of the blue, a dog ran past, his owner chasing behind. Robin started to think again.

Could Spencer and Mona be trusted?

Could he really bring his father back?

Could he actually stay in long enough to find out?

It was then that something clicked. Odd things did have a knack for making him think seriously. The gears began moving, spiraling in rapid circles and forming warm bubbles in his mind. He would never know unless he tried, right? There was a reason he had been chosen to compete. Someone must've thought he had a fighting chance and who was he to let them down. He was so selfish it was unreal. Always thinking about himself, his father would be so disappointed in him right now.

Robin sprang to his feet fast enough to surprise the other two.

"What's up?" Mona asked. Her shoulders tightened in reaction.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to die. Not yet anyways. For that to happen, we all need to get along. I'm sick of you two constantly bickering. Okay? I don't want to abandon you, mostly because I think I need you but I will draw the line. That argument back in the cafe was proof enough for me to finally put my four down. I like both of you but I don't need this."

"I'm sorry that we upset you," Spencer cocked her head to the side like a dog. "But I agree. I don't know about you all but I've always felt lukewarm about both of you and whether or not I can trust you. That would be a tactile mistake though. It's my belief that the only way we can have a chance is to work together."

"What was that name we decided on when we became a team?" Mona asked her gaze distant yet hardened all at once.

Spencer blinked her blue eyes in confusion. "Kind of redundant, don't ya think?"

"Probably, but my winning values aren't in my questions, dear. I was asking to make it official."

"So you're on board?" Robin bit his cheek in an attempt to quell his grin.

She nodded. "I thought I already was. Spencer?"

"Obviously. I wouldn't have put up with your psycho asses if I wasn't. When you're attacked by a shark and someone's with you to tell the tale, you tend to keep them around. I did mean what I said earlier. I want to protect you. Okay?"

He couldn't stop the laughter bubbling in his lungs. This was the best thing ever. Nothing could duplicate this feeling. Someone cared for him. It was nice.

Just as the three had gathered in a haphazard circle like shape, an ominous buzz sounded from all of their Diaries.

It was Yuki. There was to be a meeting later today. He wondered what for, but figured he'd find out eventually. Spencer and Mona must've thought the same as neither mentioned it.

Now that things were semi right in the twisted world, Robin still had a question that they could answer. "Whatareyourdiaries?" He blurted. There was no time for the words to actually process as they left his mouth. It came out sounding like a complete blob of sound.

"Did you say something?" Mona raised an arched eyebrow as she looked back and untied her braids.

"Yeah, didn't really catch that." Spencer added, walking a few paces in front of him.

Robin paused. That question had startled him as much as them. He inhaled to calm himself. Once he trusted himself not to vomit up every thought that came to mind he opened his mouth to answer. "I asked what your Diaries are." This time around his voice was calm and composed in contrast to the brash nature of the first time.

"O-oh, that." Mona spluttered. Her mouth cinched shut. She appeared reluctant to answer and Robin didn't blame her. She bristled past Robin uncomfortably. Something was bugging her about that topic for some reason. Robin longed to ask why but decided to keep that hidden for later, maybe when he knew the girl better.

It was a mistake to randomly ask that. Oh well...

Spencer stopped walking. Her pink painted lips twisted into a frown again. She looked over her shoulder, but she wasn't looking at Robin or Mona. "Can we continue this conversation some other time? I have to go home. Parents. You know the drill."

Robin tried to look in the same direction but couldn't see anything. "Oh, um, yeah." He nodded. "Sure I guess. Do you want to meet up tomorrow?"

At this point Spencer was already a distance away. "Sounds great. I'll talk to you later!" She grinned and proceeded in the direction towards home. Home? She lived in the same neighborhood as Robin and that wasn't the way to home. He shrugged and continued on.

After Spencer was gone and could no longer be seen, Robin and Mona sauntered back to the bench where they were just at. "Hey, Robin?" Mona asked quietly. There was something different about her that didn't just lie in the pitch of her voice. Emotion possibly?

"Hm?"

"I need to talk to you about something." He southern drawl always became more apparent when she was less high strung.

"What is it?"

"Why did you lie to me about going to that concert?" Her words were plain and harsh sounding. Almost like a punch in the face. It was definitely the uncharacteristic emotion that left her mouth.

He swallowed and crossed his arms defensively. "What?" How did she know about that?

"I know. You don't have to lie to me. My Diary tells me things like that and I know that you both lied to me. Why?" Her voice hitched. It bordered on anger and sorrow. She honestly seemed hurt about it. Guilt twisted inside Robin as he was looking for an appropriate answer to give.

"I don't know. I-I didn't really have control over the matter. Sorry."

"So you had nothing to do with why that light fell?" She snapped.

"N-no! I swear I didn't even know about that, honest!" It was a true statement. He went with Spencer because she had offered. They didn't even go in. Just a case of bad timing he guessed. Why had she even asked that in the first place? It was out of place... Now he remembered that Mona was a diehard fan of Ophelia Key. She was probably just angry they didn't invite her. Well she was looking for an apology and she got one. There wasn't really anything he could add to make it sound any better. It was what it was. Luckily, she seemed to buy it. On a more intriguing note, Mona had revealed her Diary. "Would you tell me more about your Diary?" He was hoping to change the subject.

Mona licked her lips. She took the bait. "I don't know everything about it yet, but from what I've gathered it tells me the true whereabouts of someone I've come in contact with. Kind of like a tracking device."

Robin swallowed. "So it tells you where we are all the time? That's kind of a weird thought."

Mona chuckled lightly. "No, that's the thing it doesn't always tell me. It's not the whereabouts specifically either, but actions too. Neither show up at the same time though."

"Oh. Good. Not that I mind or anything just-"

"I get it." Mona cut in. Her white blonde hair was hanging in small waves around her face. Her dark crayon green eyes were calm and looked settled for a change. "Y'know I really hope this works out."

"Me too." An air of silence settled in. It was comfortable and it didn't make his skin crawl. "I've never asked you before, why do you want to become God?"
Mona didn't answer right away. She paused, mouth slightly apart, thinking. Before she could answer, Robin stood up and stretched his arms. His jacket sleeves were now well at his elbows. He reached forward to ruffle her hair or do something remotely meaningful but something stopped him. "You don't have to answer now. I know I want to win for my dad. You don't have to think about it right now. I was just making conversation."

She grinned and followed his suit. Mona quickly tied up her hair and bid him farewell and parted ways at a small tree a block away. Mostly the conversation was carried by Mona with chunks of small talk from both ends here and there. It really was a weird feeling. To have someone care. As he shuffled home he couldn't stop the thoughts from circulating and no matter how he shaped the outcome in his mind the true reality was the best of all.

Robin winded his way onto the front porch. His mom wasn't home yet. All the lights were dim.

Robin got the same feeling from Mona like he did when he first spent time with Spencer. She was hopeful. Deep down he knew that this couldn't be forever but he wanted it to be. He wanted someone to be there and not hate him for his odd quirks even though he deserved it. He had made his final decision in the little time he had spent with these girls. There was no way he would win- allow himself to win that is. There were so many things he wanted to find out about them it was almost painful. They deserved to be God. Not him. He was selfish and pathetic. They weren't. He had made up his mind. He would try his damned hardest to keep his friends in The Game or he would die trying.

After all, they were his first real friends. He wouldn't do anything to harm them. Never ever.

There was a nagging thought at the back if his mind. Another full meeting tonight. There weren't a lot of them but nothing great ever came from them. To him they were purely based off inciting reactions for the remaining contestants.

Robin slumped over to his bed. The sheets were fresh washed and comfy. He couldn't let himself get too relaxed though. He sat up and leaned on his elbows. There wasn't a tv in his room so he merely sat there and waited.

The digital clock on his night stand changed to 8:00. Robin clenched his jaw and shut his black eyes. A tingly feeling washed over him and then it left. A cooling sensation rested on him. It felt suffocating, but relaxing all at once. Weird.

It was time.

20:00 [The Space]

This message had arrived just on time. As usual. It always gave her a heads up to her near future. She shook her head reluctantly as she was dissolved into what she knew was "The Space". She didn't know when she had started referring to it as such, but she was okay with it.

The second that this meeting had been triggered, she knew what it was about.

The first death of many to come.

The death of 27 year old Claude Roswell.

By the time Drew had reached him, there was nothing left of him. Scathing burns covered his body. His raven black hair was singed and he hardly looked- he looked like a monster. Rightly so she figured. He deserved it. Picking on a ten year old, someone so young and so frail.

He deserved it. He deserved everything.

Drew had done a considerable amount of research after... she didn't want to think about that right now. In simpler terms, Claude was a rebellious teenager stuck in a grown man's body. He had been apprehended for petty things like stealing and a few not so petty things. Grand theft happened to be on the list. It was her understanding that the only way he avoided his tonnage of due jail time was pleaded mental instability. He never received treatment though. Claude was a slender man that looked to have a muscular build and an angular face. His eyes matched his hair in recent pictures. He had dyed it not too long ago. She wondered what his story was...

She had browsed through older pictures. His hair was always just a tad spiked with brown and patches of blonde. There was also a familiar girl in most pictures. Wife or girlfriend maybe? It was a shame. Claude was a handsome man what made it worse was he had everything but he threw it all away. In one blink of an eye and a spurt of wasp repellent from a panic stricken 10 year old it was all over.

It was a really damned shame.

She meant this, but could never muster up the words to admit it to herself. She still fumed with anger. Then there was that poor boy who had caused it all. Something was noticeably wrong with Wyatt. He didn't talk as much and had little to no appetite ever. It was hard for her to watch. Claude Roswell was murdered, but he wasn't the one who had to deal with the memory of his own death. That one belonged to Wyatt. No matter how hard she would grab his hand and stroke his stark white hair and tell him it was alright, it wouldn't be.

What alarmed her most was that he never bothered to deny her. He would just rock his head back and agree. With a smile even. But the stretch of the mouth didn't connect with his eyes. His violet disillusioned eyes.

"I really am fine, Drew!" She didn't believe him.

She shifted her weight uncomfortably on the brilliant white pedestals. The purple haze that clung to hide the identities of everyone was still intact. Even still, Drew could pick out several of the people.

In order of number, she knew the identities of First, Second, Fifth, Seventh, Eighth (herself), and she was fairly certain that she knew who Eleventh was as well. There was one other she was on the fence about, but it was too soon to pinpoint an exact number.

Every spot was filled except the spot of the Seventh.

Her hunch had been correct. Yuki briefed them of his death and dismissed them.

Simple really.

That's all it ever was.

Life or death.

Simple.

When they were released, Drew was in the exact spot that she was before she was summoned. It was weird for her to think that she was someone's pawn. There were eleven people remaining as of today. She needed to act. Fast.

The only problem was that her Diary wasn't much of a help in the aspect of tracking people down. Maybe she could use Wyatt?... No. He was still drained. He didn't need to be exposed to this. No, she could do this herself.

Drew reached into her pocket and pulled out her Diary.

… Maybe she did need Wyatt's help. "Yo, little man," Drew yelled from down the hall. "Can you help me with this?" She went back to messing with her Diary. A few moments later, Drew heard the sound of footsteps.

"Yes?" It was late, late for a ten year old at least. Once she got her questions answered, Drew hoped that she would be too busy to want sleep.

"Remember when I first met you?" She paused for response. Wyatt nodded cautiously and inched forwards. "Well, you said something about people you had met a few days ago. Who were those people?"

Wyatt grabbed a pillow and hopped up next to her. He scrunched his face, trying to remember. "I don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"Drew growled back sharply. She was hoping he'd give her a straight answer to go off of.

"I mean I never actually found out who they were. They said that if I killed you, they would help me."

"But you didn't?"

"You would know that better than I would." He nodded matter of factly but humphed when Drew flicked his forehead. "That wasn't nice."

"You seriously don't know who hired you to kill me?" She asked hesitantly.

"No, probably the same people that hired you to go on a murderous rampage at a school. You mean we've never had this conversation before?"

Drew sighed and stood up. "No, and this is clearly going no place that I wanted it to go." Nothing did ever go her way, why would it now? "Go to bed. It's late."

"What if I'm not tired yet?" Wyatt challenged.

Drew laughed heartily. "Go to bed. Now. Or else." And he went back to his designated room. Drew heard the lights click off. She ran her fingers through her coffee colored hair a few times before she finally decided that she was done messing with it. There were so many things she had to do but nothing that she could go off of. She launched herself upwards with the push of her wrists. The same old makeup bags were scattered around which confused her because she never really wore makeup to speak of. Maybe she should get rid of them sometime?

She really had no idea what she was doing anymore. If she wanted to get her head start she would need to find something to get ahead of; such taxing work for a person with such little ambition.

"I could always go after my original target. I wonder if they'd still be willing to pay me…" Drew hobbled over to her mirror. Then again, those kids had managed to put a hole in her hand which still was painful even though she had gotten it fixed the day it happened. It was still healing. On second thought, maybe she wouldn't mess with those kids just yet. She rocked the rolling chair back and forth as she racked her brain for any possible way to gather information. Her fingers flew furiously over the keyboard. She had resorted to looking up brief descriptions, but there wasn't much to go off of over a cloudy silhouette of someone.

Somewhere in the hours upon hours she had spent looking, the failed assassin had given into the embrace of sleep. At roughly 3 in the morning a message popped up awaking the heroine from her snooze. She flailed around for a while until she finally comprehended her setting. Her pinky rested beside the mouse as she tiredly drug the mouse pointer across the screen to click the flashing red indication of a message.

"This had better be important." Drew slurred to no one in particular. Her half awake mind told her to be quiet as to not wake the sleeping boy in the room down the hall, but her tired brain was furious that someone had woke her up from a much needed sleep. Sleep anger was Drew's least favorite kind of anger. It made her feel like her head was collapsing. She clicked twice, opening the message. But not before checking her Diary to make sure that nothing fishy was going down.

3:24 AM

You want a hint?

"What the hell?" Drew mumbled. What did this thing want with her? How annoying.

Drew: What do youu mean? Whys your id blocked

I think you know why it's blocked, Drew.

Drew: How do u even know me? Aside from my username, I guess. Don't answer that. Still who are you? Are you…

You're a smart girl. Now that you've figured out *what* I am, I'll unblock my name.

Drew: What do you want

CC: I want you to finish your job, Drew.

Drew: Its you again? I did what you asked me to

CC: If I recall, she only broke her leg. I asked you to kill her. May I remind you, you took the money.

Drew: Fine. Ill do it.

CC: Good little hit man. I want it done within a week. You know what happens otherwise, right?

Drew Piper has gone offline

Drew smacked her head against the table. She really needed to delete her account altogether, but why bother now? It was too late for that. Now she was sure at least half of the contestants knew her name much to her dismay. How could she have been so careless?

"Its mistakes like this that'll get you killed."

Drew craned her neck down the hall. From her room she could see the outline of the sleeping boy's body breathing in and out rhythmically. She wished she could be that calm, but alas that could not be. At least she knew what she had to do.

7:15 AM [Mona Perry's House]

Mona woke up the next morning on the couch from an all night movie raid. She was especially intrigued by the detective and mystery genre. Even though the movies had been brought into existence with minimal technology, the writing and acting was brilliantly crafted. It was almost unfair how she was born in the wrong time period. Detective movies aside, a whole shelf on her movie rack was devoted solely to sci-fi, romantic comedies, etc. It was easiest to say she was a movie fanatic. It was also safe to conclude that it was her secret side of her normal snarky, southern belle charm. She would love to live in a world that was her own movie that she starred in. Now that would be paradise for her.

"Why do you want to become God? You don't have to answer right now."

Robin's words had replayed in the back of her mind like a broken record. She couldn't answer his question. Maybe that was why it stuck out to her so much. It was her understanding that Muru Muru always scouted out the ones that needed it most, but why her? She lived a fairly average life in a huge house with a great family whom she loved with her heart. She wasn't the best student but was in all the top classes. Mona was safe to say that she was pretty. In fact, many girls wanted to be her. Everyone loved her and she loved most everyone else. Why her? Maybe she had messed up. She had recruited the wrong Mona Perry. She nodded, satisfied with her less than remarkable conclusion.

Mona stretched her arms and legs in a brief yoga like fashion and strolled into her family's wide kitchen. The counters had recently been replaced with marble so it still carried a distinct smell that came with new fixings. She didn't much care for the smell, but it was mostly masked by the scent of freshly brewed orange juice and sun screen with a hint of butter. Her mother was a fantastic cook but never seemed to have enough time to do it. She was the unofficial welcoming committee for the country club they lived in. Plastic cats occupied a whole table for that lone purpose as did cookbooks and restaurant guides and things in that nature. Her father was a lawyer who rode bicycles around town in colorful spandex. As embarrassing as it was, she enjoyed her family and all their quirks. They wouldn't be them without it.

But where did she fit into the equation?

She was just Mona. She was okay with that she guessed. It wasn't being Ophelia Key, but it was alright for now.

"Mom? Dad?" Mona called as she popped a piece of bread into the toaster. No answer. They had probably left earlier without waking her from her movie coma. She shrugged as she plucked the piece of whole wheat toast from the machine and slathered a thin layer of grape jelly on top. She crunched a few bites between her teeth to relish the sweet taste before picking out her Diary.

No new messages. That held good and bad news. Good because it wasn't her Dead End flag, bad because she kind of relied on other's dishonesty to make her move. At least her friends weren't conspiring against her because she would know if they did. Was it a mistake telling Robin her Diary yesterday? Only time would tell besides, friends or not, she did a set of ulterior motives herself. All good detectives did. She couldn't quite be called a detective just yet as no actual sleuthing was involved. She settled for the title of Vigilante of the Unknown. She called herself such to fit in with her Diary.

Last night's meeting was exactly what she had expected. It was only a matter of time until someone was eliminated. She was glad that it hadn't been her, thrilled really.

Her ringtone went off. Three honks of a clown's horn. On occasions it made her laugh hysterically, but today was not a funny or comedic day. Her mother was asking her to pick up some milk from the store. Mona said she would but had no intention to get it anytime soon. It was only 7:30. Was the store even open that early? She hated waking up in the morning especially when she got little sleep as it was. Mornings simply were not for Mona. She made a brief mental note to start off to the store when she was good and ready. Her phone rang again. It was Robin this time. How fun. More chipper morning people to get on her goat. Actually, this was the perfect time to test out her diary… How she loved the mystique of texting. It depleted all sorts of embarrassment, which is why it was the perfect time to test her Diary...

Robin: Morning!

Robin: Wanna grab some coffee with Spencer and me?

Mona: Mornin' Robin

Robin: Hey that rhymed

Mona: ?

Robin: Nevermind. Anyways, coffee?

Mona: Sure.

Mona: But first...

Robin: ?

Mona: I thought we should get to know each other. Doing this in person would be awkward, so do you mind answerin' a few questions?

Robin: No?

Mona: Great! Were you born in or out of wedlock?

Robin: Um, what?

Mona: C'MON don't be shy! We are the best of friends, right?

Robin: …

Mona: Fine. I'll ask another question.

Robin: Alrighty

Mona: Are you a virgin?

Robin: 0_0 That is none of your concern!

Mona: So yes?

Robin: No!

Mona: So you aren't?

Robin: That's not what I said!

Mona: Make up your mind. So indecisive today.

Mona: These answers are important to our friendship.

Mona: The deeper we are the closer we are.

Robin: You're being creepy…

Mona: I'm here for you, bro! You can tell me anything. And good. You're saying your feelings.

Robin: What?!

Mona: Ugh. Fine. I was trying to strengthen our bonds, but if you don't want to…

Robin: Is this team building? I feel like you have a hidden agenda for some reason…

Mona: Excuse you! I have no ulterior motives whatsoever. In answer to your question, in this situation these answers could be the difference between life or death! We're talking end of our lives death here. So if you could just take a guess on your parents wedding date and calculate in your birthday

Robin: I don't get what you're trying to do but whatever. Color me oblivious I guess.

Mona: Well if you ever plan on getting married it could be important to your fiancé. Like their religion. As for the other questions, you're missing the point.

Robin: How?

Robin: Fine. Any other questions?

Mona: Finally you listen.

Robin: I was kidding, but go on.

Mona: I don't appreciate your sarcasm, but here goes: Who was your first love? What's the worst thing to ever have happened to you? Have you tried to kill someone? What's your most embarrassing moment?

Robin: Um

Mona: FORGET IT, Little Mr. Articulate. I'll meet you for coffee. See ya later. Bye.

Robin: Bye?

Mona huffed angrily out of the house. She had thrown on a pair of slouching boots and a thigh length casual blue dress. Her plan had just taken a nosedive off into the deep end. He probably thought she was a stalker now. Whatever, she could test it again later. Why couldn't he just lie to her? It was as simple as that yet as complicated as teaching a dog human speech patterns. She chalked this mission down as unsuccessful. Maybe her think tank would improve when she filled it with caffeine.

"I'm leaving." She yelled even though she knew no one was home. The door slammed shut behind her.

Author's Note: Huge thank you to the real life equivalents of Mona and Faye. You're cool. The "script" style format used for texting or computer messages will rarely be used.