Enjoy!

It seems the cops don't care whether I actually COMMIT the crime or not—they just want to arrest me.

-Jim

"This is bullshit!" Jim yelled as the cops removed his handcuffs and shoved him into a cell. He stumbled against the wall and whirled around angrily to see the officer lock the cell door. Jim flung himself against the bars. "What are you doing? I didn't do anything!"
"So you say," whispered Rhimes. The other officers that had brought Jim had left, and now it was just him, Rhimes, and the cold barred walls that separated them.

"I can take everything that matters to you away," said Rhimes coldly.

Jim clung to the bars. "Well, you're a cop. You can't do that."

"I'm not a cop," said Rhimes, jabbing his finger at a white badge at his chest. "What does this say, boy? It says Special Agent."

Anger surged through Jim. He hurled himself against the bar again. "Let me out of here, you stupid asshole!"

"Watch your words," said Rhimes with a hideous smile. "I'm more than capable of ruining your life."
"You can't do anything to me," Jim spat, turning away.
Rhimes grabbed his shoulder tightly between the bars, forcing him to turn around. "I can take away those you love most—unless you confess."
Jim raised his eyebrows, as if challenging Rhimes. "Con—fess?" He spoke it like they were two words to stress the meaning of the words.

"Con—fess," Rhimes said back, enjoying the effect his words had on Jim.

Jim closed his eyes. "Okay. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is that supposed to mean something?"
"I KNOW YOU DID SOMETHING!" Rhimes screamed. "WE FOUND THE CRYSTAL IN YOUR DAMN ROOM, BOY, SO YOU BETTER START TALKING FAST!"
"No," Jim said calmly, ignoring Rhimes's hysterics. "I'm telling you the truth. I did nothing."
"Then why," Rhimes said in a deliberately enunciated voice, "did we find the Crystal in your room?"
"I—" Jim had no idea what to say. He didn't even know his room had been searched.

"No response." Rhimes placed his palms against either side of the cell. "Is that a 'yes, Officer Rhimes, I stole the Crystal?' Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"No," Jim said quietly. "I didn't do it."
Rhimes smirked.

"Please," Jim said, lowering his head, smacking his hands against the walls. "Please believe me. I didn't do anything."
Rhimes looked at him critically for a long time. He hesitated, then he turned away. "I'm sorry Hawkins," he said quietly. "It's out of my hands."
"What do you mean?" Jim cried, grabbing the bars against, fear coursing through his veins.

"The King ordered it."
"NO!" Jim yelled, slamming the bars repeatedly. "It's wrong! I didn't DO anything! Let me GO!"

Rhimes turned around completely and began to leave the holding room. "I'm sorry, Hawkins. I can't—" He looked at Jim again and turned back around. "I'm sorry," he said again slowly, as if that made it better.

"What do you mean?" Jim whispered, knowing what was to come, but praying to God that it wasn't what he thought.

Without turning, Rhimes spoke: "You are to be executed in the public square. Tomorrow itself."
"You can't—"

The harsh Rhimes was back. He turned to Jim with slitted eyes. "King's orders."

A while later, Officer Smollet approached him in his cell as if he were a wounded animal ready to attack.

"Mr. Hawkins," she greeted.

Jim, who had been slumped against the far wall, raised his head slowly. "What do you want?"
"You got some visitors," said Officer Smollet.

Jim looked up slowly. "I don't want to see anybody."
Officer Smollet was already unlocking the door. "It's Wendy Darling."
Jim jumped up. "Is she…"
"Oh, she's a mess. Come see her. Perhaps she will feel better seeing you again."
Jim practically ran out of the holding room into the waiting room. Wendy was sitting there, her fingers massaging her temples when he arrived.

"Wendy?" he asked softly, walking in.

Wendy looked up. With a gasp, she shot out of the small plastic chair, knocking it over as she ran to Jim. She wrapped her arms around him. "Jim."
He hugged her back.

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked, her voice breathless.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jim said. "But there's some stuff I have to tell you. Let's sit down, okay?"
Jim himself was quavering so bad he didn't think he could get the words out. In Wendy, what he could see was grace and love and most of all, a perfect angelic innocence that you couldn't find in most girls nowadays. Her wide blue eyes and curious face added to her innocence. Jim sucked in air. "They think I did something bad," said Jim, trying to figure out where the hell to begin his story.

Wendy nodded. "I know you didn't do it. We just have to find out who did."
"Well, you'll have to do it in one day."
"What?" Wendy was shocked. "Wait, your trial is tomorrow?" She bit her lip. "I can ask around. I bet we can find a lawyer. My dad can pay for it—"

"Wendy, no. Listen to me." Jim's voice was gentle, but he had no idea how to say this. Instead he got up and began to pace, running a hand through his hair.

"Baby," Wendy stood up, now worried. "Jim, what is it?"

Jim shook his head. "I have no idea how to tell you this. This is such bullshit."
"What is?"
Jim looked at her.

Wendy stamped her foot. "Tell me!"
He didn't know how. His mouth wouldn't form the words. His tongue was lead. His lips were stitched together. He was a mime, unable to speak. He was trapped in a glass box and Wendy was on the outside, waving her arms, lost in the fray. He could only desperately signal to her and prayed she understood.

A single tear slid down Wendy's cheek. "Please tell me."
He tried again to open his mouth, and a croaking noise escaped. He tried to clear his throat. Something felt lodged securely down there. The words were trapped, sealed down in his heart. He couldn't get them out.
"Jim!" Wendy insisted. "Now! I don't have much time left. I need to find Dani and we need to figure out how to get you out of this crap."
"Five minutes, Mr. Hawkins!" called Officer Smollet.

"I—" Jim couldn't. The words were unable to be spoken by him. It was impossible.

"Jim?" Wendy looked worried. "You alright?"
"THEY'RE GONNA KILL ME!" Jim yelled at the top of his lungs. It seemed time froze up. Wendy's eyes widened to the size of dinnerplates. "What?" she whispered, totally shocked out of her mind.

"Tomorrow," Jim said calmly. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm dead. No more Jim Hawkins. They're gonna kill me for something I didn't even do."
"H-how are they gonna do that?" Wendy spluttered. "They don't have any evidence. They can't just—"

"THEY DON'T NEED ANY DAMN EVIDENCE!" Jim shouted. "They're pinning this on me because I'm the one closest to their frickin'…paws!"
"Jim…." Wendy reached for him.

He twisted away. "I love you, Wendy."
Officer Smollet had started to enter.

He turned and grabbed her arms. "I want you to know I love you. Don't give up."
Wendy burst into tears. "Ohmygod! This is just horrible!"
Jim shook his head, watching the officers advance. He looked down at Wendy. "I know I wasn't much of a role model or anything. I wasn't a smart kid, or a good kid, even. I wasn't a hero, I just wanted to have fun forever. But I always thought I'd have a longer life to live to fix my mistakes." His eyes turned dark. "I guess not, huh?"
"They're not going to kill you!" Wendy hissed. "I'll get in the way."
Officers grabbed Jim's arms, wrenching him back towards the door. "That's my speech!" Jim yelled, trying to keep his voice light and happy. "Bye, Wendy. I love you."
"I love you, too," Wendy whispered. "And Jim?"
He didn't reply, he was gone from view.

But even behind the walls, he heard what Wendy said:

"You're my hero."

And then Jim Hawkins began to cry.

You know what they say: one second you're feeling happy and beautiful, the next second you're in serious trouble.

-Cindy

"Hello?"
The voice that answered the phone was rich and marvelous and sweet, just like the voice of Char at the party.

"Char?"
The male voice sounded confused. "Yeah. Why? Who is this?"
"Oh, ehm, this is uh…" Cindy trailed off. "Remember me? From the Triton Girls' party? I gave you my number."
Silence on the other end.

Cindy swallowed. It had taken her forever to muster enough courage to call Char. After Peter had stolen her iPhone back for her, she had to wait till Peter, Anastasia, Drisella and Lady Tremaine had left town to go shopping to call Char. "I fell. You caught me just before I fell. Remember?"
Please remember. I can't tell you my name.

"Oh!" Recognition lit up in Char's voice. "The girl I offered a ride…just before you ran off with your friend to go home, right?"
"Totally!" Cindy was practically giddy. "That's me!"
"I never did get your name." It was a question in disguise.

"My name." Cindy scratched her head. "I'm Anastasia Tremaine."
"Cool. Any nickname I can call you? Anastasia is kind of a mouthful."
"Ana is fine," Cindy said softly.

"Cool," Char said again. "Would you like to meet up today, Ana?"
Cindy blinked. Today? Well, Lady Tremaine would be staying in town all day today with relatives. So she had the day to herself. "Yes!"
Char laughed. "Glad you're enthusiastic. Where would you like to meet me?"

Cindy rushed to the window and peered out. What was a café not too far from her street? "Yellow Stars Diner," she requested. "I love the food there. I hope it's not too far from where you are, Char."
"No, no, no trouble." Char chuckled. "I'll meet you this evening, Ana. Till then."
"Till then," Cindy—Ana—echoed, and hung the phone, her mind in a misty haze.

Anastasia wouldn't notice if I borrowed a dress, thought Cindy. The white lace with the blue vest. Maybe. With the brown belt?
She reached out. Perhaps the rainforest green dress. It was very short, but perhaps Char liked that sort of thing.

Cindy stroked a pink one. It was soooo soft, but down to her ankles. Much too dressy-dressy for a simple get-together with Char. Suddenly she gasped. The one she liked was a beautiful white lace top with a pink miniskirt that flared out. And she decided to team it with that brown belt. She quickly dressed and brushed out her hair, applying Anastasia's various hairsprays to make it look pretty. To make her look rich. Like a girl named Anastasia Tremaine would look. Not just a plain old Cinderella.

Cindy curled her hair and put on a pair of Anastasia's white flats and then started walking to the Yellow Stars Diner.

When she got in there, no one saw her as the lowly servant girl in tattered rags who fetched fresh chicken eggs and milk from the marketplace. They saw her as a lady.

Lady Anastasia Tremaine.

The little bell on the top of the Yellow Stars door clanged, and Cindy turned to spot Char come in, wearing casual clothing. Cindy glanced down. Was she too dressy? She had never gone on a date, not once in her life.

She smiled at Char. "Hi, Char!"
Char turned around, and he laughed in relief. "Oh, Ana. I'm so glad to see you. I was feeling a little idiotic wandering around."
Cindy smiled warmly. "Want to sit down?"
Char nodded. "Yeah, absolutely."
The one thing Cindy could not get used to was Char calling her "Ana." It reminded her that she was playing a dangerous game—pretending to be someone she most certainly was not.

The evening at Yellow Stars was the most fun Cindy had ever had. She and Char clicked immediately, and he had bought her delicious food with foreign exotic tastes weaved in. Foods hard like rocks that she had to saw with her fork, food soft as butter, and multicolored drinks that had fruity aftertastes.

Suddenly, Cindy's iPhone vibrated with a text. She grabbed her purse off the ground. "Excuse me," she said to Char. "My phone…I have to take this."

"Sure!" Char said. "No problem. Dessert?"
"I really can't ask that of you," Cindy said witih a shake of her head. "I'll have to skip dessert."

Char shrugged. "Whatever you say, Ana."

Ana. Call me Cindy. But Cindy just got up and moved to the back of the diner and looked at her text.

Hey, the wicked witch of the west is staying at her brother's in the city. But I'm comin home, k? is dinner ready? –P

Cindy blinked in surprise. So Lady Tremaine, Anastasia and Drisella were gone. But Peter was coming back. She lowered her fingers to the keypad.

Peter, I am a date with a guy. I was getting ready all day no time to make any food. So just make urself dinner, k? ill be home b4 11. Love ya! Bye

Peter didn't respond, so Cindy assumed he had gotten the message. She walked back to Char.

"I already paid," Char said. "What do you want to do next?"
"I'll go anywhere you want to go," said Cindy sweetly.

"Great, how about a movie?"
Cindy grinned. She had never set foot in a movie theater, but now was the time to do it.

"Let's go, Ana. We're gonna have so much fun." Char said.

"That's me," Cindy said softly, watching the superhot guy walk towards his car. "Ana Tremaine."

I remember when we kissed in the backyard.

-Peter

The car rolled up to the driveway.

What the hell? Peter thought. He was lying in a hammock, staring out at the expensive car. A girl got out, a chaffeur opening the door for her.

She was about as tall as Peter, if not a little shorter. Her hair was long and blonde, she had cornflower blue eyes and wore a tiny dress. She flounced to the front door. With a sigh, Peter slid off the hammock and went to her. "Excuse me," he said. "You have the wrong house number."
The girl gasped, shocked, and turned around. "No, I'm sure I don't," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm Alice. I'm Cindy's cousin. You're…Peter!"

Peter scratched the back of his neck. Then suddenly, recognition dawned on him. "Alice?"

Alice laughed. "Fancy meeting you here, Peter! So great to see you again!"
Peter remembered Alice. She was Cindy's little rich-girl cousin. The two had a great cousin bond, and Cindy always asked her to visit while Lady Tremaine and the two wicked stepdaughters were out of town. Alice was pretty, sweet, loved cats, and romance. And she hated books without pictures, and schooling. She was easily the biggest daydreamer Peter knew. And she had a bad habit of wandering off.

Peter leaned back against the wall. Damn, Alice was really pretty. "What grade you in now?"
Alice rang the doorbell again. "I'm a freshman, actually." She rang the doorbell yet again. "Oh, my, isn't there anyone in this house?" She rapped the window. "Cindy?"
Peter touched her shoulder. "Cindy's out on a date. I don't think she was expecting you today."
"Oh, my!" Alice blushed. "I thought it was today."
"She'd love to have you," Peter said. "And me too."

Alice blushed fire-engine red again. "Oh, alright, then, Peter."
Peter opened the door and bowed low to the ground. "Welcome. To my humble abode."