People, I am SO SORRY that this is so long. I just couldn't stop! Please,
you all know I talk too much as it is, but still read it. New developments
are amidst this installment . . .
Thank you all so very much for reviewing previous chapters, I love feeling loved. :) And for all the questions you have, I'll do my best to work them all in, rather than answer them bluntly outside the story. And I'm happy! I've just come up with an end for my story! I got my inspiration at a carnival! Yay . . . Well, it might be for another story, but we will see where the river of dreams flows . . .
...I suck.
# Enjoy! #
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Ah, Saturday . . . The one thing no girl can live without, alongside clothes, cosmetics, basic skills in tae kwon do and a love life . . .
Don't you just love waking up, really tired, and finding that you still have two hours sleep to go? I mean, it was eight. I totally planned on rise- and-shining at ten.
I closed my eyes again, and sank further into my pillow. Mmm . . .
'Wake up, li'l Susie, wake up li'l Susie. The movie wasn't so hot, Yeah it didn't have much of a plot, We fell asleep, something or other, And our reputation is shot, Wake up li'l Susie, wake up li'l Susie, We gotta go home . . .'
'Paul, piss off, I'm sleeping,' I snapped. He was playing with my hair again, plaiting it or something. Now, even though, to my bewilderment, he had a somewhat nice singing voice, I SERIOUSLY HATE THAT SONG! So, he was sailing through dangerous water here . . .
'I told your mumma that we'd be in by ten. Well Susie, baby, looks like we goofed again. Wake up li'l Susie, wake up li'l Susie, We gotta go home . . . '
Now I was miffed.
'I. Am. Going. To. KILL YOU!' I exploded, opened my eyes, and dived at him. I must have taken him by surprise, because he totally wasn't expecting a tackle like that. I pinned him down on the floor, and kneeled on him, grabbing a handful of his shirt and holding it tightly in my balled fist. He looked startled.
'Now, understand this, Paul,' I said intensely, glaring down at him, 'I'm tired. I still have slight jet lag, and I'm not in a very jolly mood with you all together, so, if you ever, I repeat, EVER wake me up with that despicable song again, I'll take away your reason for saying "Boo!" Do we have an understanding?'
He just, to my vexation, smirked. I twisted his shirt further, constricting his neck, but I'd forgotten to keep his hands out of action. He grabbed me around the waist and flipped us over, so he was leaning over me. Hey! This was not dignified!
'Perfectly,' he smiled, showing his perfect set of teeth, the row I so desperately wanted to knock out. He stood up, and furiously, I went straight back to bed. But noooo, he had to come back over and play with my hair again.
You know, I seriously wanted to decapitate him, but it did feel, you know, nice? Like when my mum used to do it when I was little . . . I turned over in my bed, and looked at him.
'Why are you so perky this morning?' I asked him. I mean, what was with the freaky, ear-to-ear smile already? He reminded me of one of those clowns you hire for kids' parties, as if it was painted on, and he couldn't stop it. I mean, it looked fake. Or maybe it was just because he was happy for all the wrong reasons . . . I dunno.
'Oh . . . nothing,' he said airily, and continued to twist a coil of my hair around his long index finger. I stared at him suspiciously, and he stared back at me, with eyes so glacial and intensely blue, it seemed as if millions of tiny microscopic shards of ice had formed his irises. I scowled and looked away. My head was still throbbing a bit . . .
My head. The head ache . . .
Last night!
'Paul! Omigod! I just remembered, what the hell was with last night? Where did you take me again? Why -'
'Whoa, slow down Susie,' he exclaimed, arching his thin dark eyebrows.
I shot him a toxic stare. I mean, I hate it when I babble, but it's annoying when people notice it. I only babble when I'm nervous, you see.
'Okay, Suze then,' he said with a wry smile. I couldn't be bothered repeating myself. I felt liked crap.
'I hope you're proud of yourself,' I muttered grumpily, rubbing my eyes, 'You've successfully ruined my Saturday. Congratulations, really.'
Then, with his strong hand, he made me sit forward, as he climbed on my bed. Huh? What? What was he doing? He plonked his butt behind me, sat cross- legged, propped my pillow on his lap, and then pulled me back so I was leaning against him. Er, this was awkward . . . but comfortable.
'Uh, and that was for?' I asked, as he began to play with my hair again, gently netting his fingers messily through my long tresses.
'Because I felt like it,' he said simply. Well, no arguments there. It was a free country. And it was also very cozy . . .
I shut my eyes again, as Paul pulled the blanket up for me.
I couldn't explain why my emotions toward him kept changing so quickly. I mean, now, I felt as though I didn't loathe him. I almost felt as if I . . . liked him.
Almost.
I was feeling really rested, but alert at the same time. I didn't want him to make me "shift" or whatever again. No, Suze Simon got used once. She's not going to let it happen again.
Well, I wasn't doing a very good job. I was almost asleep by then, when a heaven-sent voice rang out, 'Suze, phone!'
I jerked up, ripped back my bed covers, and ran out the room without a last look at Paul Slater.
~*~
'So you can come?' CeeCee gabbled from the other end of the line. I held the receiver close to my ear.
I paused. 'Probably, I'll check . . . ' I covered the mouth piece, 'MUM! CAN I GO TO THE BEACH?'
Her reply came from up in her room. 'Sure, honey. Be back by five, we're having an early dinner so your step-father and I can make it to a movie, okay?'
'THANKS!' I yelled, grinning. 'CeeCee, she said-'
'I heard,' she snapped. 'Jeez, Simon, you've busted my eardrums for sure this time.'
I made a face, but then realized that she couldn't see me. 'Whatever, Spider.'
'DON'T CALL ME THAT!!!' she thundered. I held the phone a foot away from my head.
'Uh, ow? Now I'm the one who needs ear reconstruction,' I snapped, but in a good-humoured way. She hates it when me and Adam call her Spider, on account of her last name being "Webb." But yeah, it's all fun.
'Okay, get you illegally great butt down to the beach in ten then,' she said, a little irritably, 'Adam and I'll meet you.'
~*~
'Where do you think you're going, Susie?' drawled Paul, as I was leafing through my underwear draw for a nice bikini. I was sick of my brown ones, they were fully gross now, and I'd been using my stripy red and yellow ones for showering due to the fact that Paul was psychotic AND perverted.
'Oh, I wonder,' I said sarcastically, not looking at him. 'The North Pole, really. In a bikini, Paul.'
I grabbed and handful, and through them on the bed, trying to decide which one. The green ones? The swirly purple and pink ones? The blue hand-knitted ones? Or the black ones with white piping?
'I like the black ones,' Paul offered.
'Whatever, Goth boy,' I said, and grabbed them. I went into my bathroom, and firmly wrapped a towel around me, slid my boxers off, and pulled on the bikini bottoms. I basically did the same for the top.
See? See what I have to go through to remain unseen? It's an outrage, it's illegal!
It's...! It's not that bad . . .
Jesus, what is WRONG with me?
A lot. Oh, a lot . . .
I emerged from the bathroom, looking very nice, if I do say so myself. Well, Paul certainly approved, by the way he was eyeing me. Er . . . right.
'I've still got the touch,' he said, looking at me hungrily. I grimaced at him. I guess it was wise to evacuate ASAP.
~*~
'Suze, you look mad!' complimented Adam. I smiled, and shoved my towel at his face. He laughed, and tickled me, until CeeCee came over, and smacked him really hard over the head.
With Adam groaning, and muttering something about anger management, we walked over to a nice clean are of sand, and set down our beach towels and snacks. I helped CeeCee set up her umbrella so she wouldn't get burnt from the sun, her being albino and all. While Adam went -or attempted - surfing - and failing direly - CeeCee and I lay on our towels, chatting. CeeCee's bikini was a gorgeous violet colour that totally matched her eyes. The ocean was a deep cerulean blue today, with the sun high in the sky, beating down. The sky was totally clear, too. The beach was scattered with people, all looking either very tanned, or very pale, in need of tanning.
I loved spending time with friends. But there's something that can really get on my nerves. And that's when I see certain people wandering around aimlessly. Certain people in the spectral category. There was this tall, blond guy, drifting in between sunbathing people, looking lost and dejected. I lifted up my sunnies, but he was still there, with his little aura around him. Rolling my eyes, I got up and went over to talk, but he dematerialized! Not because I was going over, but well, I dunno. He just did.
How infuriating was that? Well, he so couldn't blame me for not helping him, could he.
I went along the shore, and kicked the water, so heaps of little droplets flew up, before descending again. The beads of water looked like crystal marbles, reflecting the sun and the sea. I love splashing.
'Er, Suze? What was the point of that?' asked CeeCee, as I went back over.
I shrugged. 'Nothing. I just needed to, uh, get wet, is all.'
She raised her eyebrows at me. 'Whatever, Simon.'
~*~
After four and a half hours at the beach, we decided to go bum around my house. So, with sand-caked feet and dark skin - well, not CeeCee, who was as pearly white as ever - we tramped back to my place of residence. Me and Adam had to take turns holding the umbrella for CeeCee, who still couldn't be exposed to sun, due to her sensitive skin.
'What we do for you,' grumbled Adam on his turn.
'What are friends for?' chirped CeeCee cheerfully.
'Well, in your case, strictly for homework purposes,' he replied testily. 'My arms ACHE!'
When we finally got to my house, I let Adam use the normal bathroom to shower off and get changed, while CeeCee and I went up to my room to rinse the sand off. But as I got to my bedroom door, the first thing I heard was running water . . .
CeeCee's POV
I followed Suze into her room. It was weird, because I thought she didn't usually let her brothers shower in her room. Because, there certainly was someone in there now. I could hear it. Suze gently opened her bathroom door, and I tried to peak behind her, but she brushed me off. What? I wasn't trying to perv on Brad or Jake or anything, and definitely not the other on, David, but I was curious, ok?
When I saw Suze's eyes bulge, I automatically assumed it was David. I mean, she looked panicking.
'What?' I asked, grinning, and pushed her out of the way.
But what I saw . . . oh my God.
The shower curtain was to the side and all, and I could totally see the water running, but there was no one in the shower. But . . . there was. The way the water was running, it looked like it was running down a body.
'Suze?' I sang, way freaked, 'What's that?!'
Suze was sitting on her bed, looking disgusted.
I turned back, and the water had stopped. But there were still drips falling off some invisible body. WHAT WAS GOING ON?!
But when wet, slippery footsteps came splashing towards me, I guess I passed out . . .
Suze's POV.
'What the hell is your problem?!' I yelled, and hauled CeeCee over to my bed. There was sand all over her, and mum would kill me, but I wasn't really concerned about that now, you know?
Paul shrugged. He had one of MY towels wrapped around him lower half. I swear, I was going to burn it . . .
'What?' he asked, 'I needed a shower.'
'B - But . . . B-' I spluttered, 'YOU CAN'T EVEN FEEL IT!'
He looked nonchalant. 'So? I can remember it.'
I felt like I was going to explode! 'But CeeCee SAW YOU!'
He laughed. That's right. He just laughed at the fact that my secret had almost been exposed.
'Well, she's not going to remember it,' he informed me. 'Just tell her it was all a dream or some shit like that.'
I looked worriedly at CeeCee, and then back at him. 'That won't work. You don't know CeeCee.'
He looked down at her, and raised his eyebrows. 'She albino, or something?'
'No shit, Sherlock,' I snarled, 'Now get your clothes back on, you're making me nauseous . . .'
'No, I'm quite comfortable,' he said, and gave a huge, fake stretch.
'Frankly, I don't give a damn,' I said. I know, way "Gone With the Wind," but still. 'Look, just watch her. I need to get this sand off me. I mean, it's everywhere . . . If she wakes, give me a yell. It's not like anyone will hear you,' I added nastily.
'Well, you give me a yell if you need a hand getting all that sand off you. Because my hand is glad to help. Hey, screw the hand, I'll go headfirst,' he smirked.
He did not just say that . . .
'Paul? Grow up,' I said, rolling my eyes, and going into the bathroom.
I turned on the taps and stood under the hot water for about five minutes, when Paul called, 'Suze. Snow White is waking up, minus the kiss from Prince Charming.'
'That's Sleeping Beauty, you idiot,' I called, turning the taps off.
'Yeah, well, Sleeping Beauty wasn't albino, was she.'
God, how racist can you get? I glared into space, as I dried myself with a DIFFERENT towel. I was SO scarred for life. I mean, Paul Slater in the buff? Those mental pictures would never fade . . . And don't get excited, I only saw the butt. Nothing frontal. I mean, sure, his butt was nice and all, but this is PAUL SLATER we are discussing here.
'Suze? Who are you talking to? What's Sleeping Beauty?' called CeeCee groggily. I slipped into a dirty denim miniskirt and a black halter-neck, and exited the bathroom. CeeCee was lying on my bed, with Paul in the corner of my room, looking bored. Well, at least he was fully clothed now.
Shudder . . .
'She's your friend?' Paul scoffed. 'I thought you'd hang with more the skank type. Not that you are one,' he added. I glared at him, but I couldn't retort, because CeeCee was present.
CeeCee looked perplexed, poor thing. 'Suze, I think I need an aspirin,' she groaned. Then, to top it all off, Adam swaggered in, looking a lot fresher.
'Hello ladies,' he grinned, and flopped down next to CeeCee on my bed. I saw Paul glare at him, and look him up and down. Eyeing the competition? Ha, whatever, Adam was just a friend. Paul, however, thought otherwise. He walked closer to him.
'Who's he? Another friend?' he asked corrosively. I nodded discretely. 'Just . . . a friend?' Again, I nodded angrily. Paul continued to glare. 'You never let me sit on your bed . . .'
'No, Suze, what happened?' CeeCee demanded of me. 'I remember seeing-'
'Look, Adam, can you go ask my mum for an aspirin?' I asked in a high voice. Adam, looked put out. 'But I just got here-'
'Now,' I said dangerously.
He made a face. 'Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a knot . . . ' he groaned and left.
Paul looked scandalized. 'Hey! I'm the only one that's allowed to think about your panties!'
I scowled at him.
CeeCee glowered. 'Why did I fall asleep?' she asked.
'You didn't. You, ah . . . '
'Banged your head?' Paul suggested.
'Banged you head!' I said quickly, sending him a brief "thank you" look.
She nodded slowly. 'I don't have a concussion, do I?' she asked anxiously.
'No,' I said firmly. 'Just, stay lying d-'
'Suze!' she screamed, 'What's that?!'
I turned, and to my fury, I saw that Paul had picked up a photo of me and my mum when I was about six. It would have appeared to be floating in the air to CeeCee. Oh shit . . .
'You look cute in this picture,' he commented lightly, thumbing my young face.
I could have exorcised him there and then, I swear it! I quickly stood in front of it, and said, 'I think maybe you do have a concussion, CeeCee. Sleep.'
She frowned. 'Sleep is good,' she said, and settled down on my bed.
I bit the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from detonating. This was totally uncool. If Paul even thought that he was going to reveal my secret ability to my friends, well, he had another damned thing coming . . .
I expressed my umbrage at his antics by smartly slapping his face. He seemed to find it funny, but promptly dematerialized.
Adam stumbled back in. 'Aspirin?' he said, throwing me two little capsules. I put them on my bedside table for when CeeCee woke up. He clumsily put a half filled glass of water beside them, and judging by the water that was down his front, he'd either not dried himself properly after his shower or he'd run up the stairs. I'd wager on the latter.
He made a face at me. 'Why's CeeCee out cold? If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. What, did she fail her Computer Studies Course or something?'
I smiled. CeeCee would be prone to fainting if she received an F, or even a C, in Computer. She was somewhat a nerd at it. Don't think I'm dissing her or anything. I'd never diss CeeCee. She's one of my best friends. But I guess it's annoying that my IQ times two wouldn't equal Adam's . . . let alone hers.
Adam was talking about something that had happened in his last Chemistry class with CeeCee, but I wasn't listening. It sounded funny, but I was deep in thought about how I was, well, a bit envious of CeeCee. Oh, a bit jealous even. I mean, she didn't even believe in ghosts. It must be so nice to have that luxury. Sure, she was albino, but she was a really gorgeous one. It just made her unique. I was even a bit annoyed at Adam on her behalf, for never knowing about her crush on him.
He was still talking! 'So I breathed in some of the helium, and then I sang that song from The Sweetest Thing, and she-'
'Adam, for God's sake!' I snapped.
He stopped short. 'Huh? What's up with you?'
'You two are so annoying!' I said with exasperation.
He blinked. 'Er, we kind of know that, but I don't know how CeeCee could be annoying you at the moment, seeing how she is comatose and all-'
'Oh, never mind,' I said.
He just stared at me in bewilderment. God, it was so tempting to tell him about how CeeCee felt about him, but that would be betraying her trust.
'Suze, I'm sorry if I-'
But I was spared his reaction to my close revelations of CeeCee's emotions towards him, by the bellowing of my mother.
'Suze! PHONE!' she yelled.
Huh? Adam and CeeCee were here. Who'd be calling me? Surely not Gina . . .
I threw Adam an apologetic look, and burst out from my room. I got downstairs, and snatched the phone from my mother.
'Hello?' I said uncertainly into the receiver.
'Susannah! I'm so glad you're home! Oh, this is an emergency, I need you to get down to the mission as soon as possible-'
'Uh, Father D, it's a weekend. It would look REALLY bad if I went to school on a Saturday, you know,' I informed him.
He sighed in frustration. 'This is nothing to do with school! Last night, there was a- oh, I can't tell you over the phone, please come quickly!'
This was really weird . . . 'Okay, okay, cool it. I'm coming . . . '
~*~
I got mum to get Jake into driving me over. I told her to send Adam home when CeeCee woke up. Hey, it was an odd situation for me too, you know. But I was standing out the front of the rectory in my mini and my halter-neck, waiting for the principal of my school. Oh, on a Saturday. Yes, the fact that we were meeting to discuss ghosts has been struck from the record.
I knocked, and finally he answered, and led me worriedly to his office in the school.
'Okay, Father Dom, what's this about? I'm confused. Mum's already asking questions about why I'm here, I mean, I have no reason to be at school on the weekend that she knows of. You are going to completely blow my cover. I've been trying to keep it a secret from her since-'
'Susannah, I don't know what you're saying, you're talking too fast for an old man like me, but you must understand that this is grave, otherwise, I would not have called you here out of school hours. Now, take a seat, I need to show you something.'
I sat in the chair opposite his desk. He sat behind it, dug into his drawers, and extracted a newspaper from them. He flicked through a couple of pages. Oh great, who's guessing "Susannah Simon has been found to be able to communicate with the dead. Call her, she charges hourly."?
Just my luck . . .
'You better not have spilt the beans on me, Father Dom,' I said with annoyance, 'Because if you have, by God, you can-'
'Of course not . . . and don't use God's name in vain,' he added in disapproval. 'For goodness sake, I can' find this page.'
'Well, if it was important, why isn't it on the front?' I tested.
'Because it happened in New York, and isn't immediate to us,' he replied promptly, ruffling thought the paper noisily.
Well fine then . . .
'Ah . . .' he said in triumph, and laid the paper flat on his clean, really religious looking desk, what with it's crucifixes and miniature statues of Mary and all these other big wig saints. I went around the other side of his desk, and craned over his shoulder. I wonder why he couldn't find the article. I mean, er, it was only page two.
Priests . . .
The words, "MYSTERIOUS NEW YORK HOMICIDE" bugged out at me from the page. Oooh, catchy . . . Next to this average looking article was a picture of some ambulance people taking two covered bodies on stretchers into an ambulance, with police lights in mid flash in the background, and below were some people crying, and finally, down the bottom, was a school photo of some dude. He was wearing a navy blue school jacket, so he looked like he came from a private school. But yeah. The guy looked strangely familiar, too.
Hang on.
Didn't CeeCee tell me that on photo day, we have to wear jackets? She SHOWED me hers. And it was exactly like that . . .
'Father Dom!' I said, 'Did he go to our school?!'
He turned his head at me, a slightly disbelieving expression on his old face. 'Please don't tell me that, in all that time, you haven't read the article yet Susannah?'
'Okay,' I said, 'I won't.'
He sighed. 'I will read it to you then. Go sit back down.'
I did, but stuck my tongue out at him behind his back. I know, God would probably zap me with lightning for it later in life, but I'll risk it.
(A/N: Okay, excuse any mistakes I've made in either article writing or just known facts about NY, I'm from the Sunburnt Country, remember?)
He pushed his glasses up his nose, and smoothed down the paper unnecessarily again. 'Now listen to this . . . "Seventeen-year-old Bryce Martinsen, and thirty-eight year old Arnold Douglas, were found dead in the Le Grande Hotel, New York. Both suffered bullet wounds. Martinsen's family members are devastated, and are unavailable for comment, and Douglas's relatives cannot be contacted yet. NYPD believes that Martinsen's murder was intentional, and that Douglas impeded the killer. "In Martinsen's hotel room, a strange smudge of lipstick was found on the wall that is being tested for any DNA that will lead to the killer but below that was written "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Sugar is Sweet but Revenge is Too" also in lipstick. By this, NYPD suspected the killer to possibly be a former lover, but Martinsen's mother did divulge that his most recent girlfriend committed suicide, further leading police to suspect a relative of this woman. "But what is bothering NYPD the most is what Dr. Jane Pavlov told the media. 'It is clear that both men were shot, but what has us stumped is the fact that both bullets were somehow retrieved. It is possible to recover a bullet after fire, but how it was done so cleanly is remarkable. We know that neither bullets passed through the bodies entirely, so where they are now is unknown. The killer obviously didn't want us tracing them. But it is highly mysterious.' "It is highly mysterious. Police will be undergoing further investigations and hopefully, after autopsies, answers will arise. If anyone has any information on this case, please contact the NYPD as soon as possible."
(A/N: So? Will I be a hot shot reporter, you think?)
Father Dom stopped, and looked over at me expectantly.
'Er, and that has to do with us, what?' I said.
Okay, so what if I hadn't clicked yet?!
He groaned. 'Susannah, didn't you know? Haven't you heard from your classmates? Yes, Bryce did go this school. I told him to transfer, because I was worried about his safety. His ex-girlfriend, the one who committed suicide, was Heather Chambers.'
Holy shit!
'What?!' I demanded. 'She killed him? And she got the bullets out? Oh my God!'
'Don't use the Lord's name in vain,' he snapped again. 'And it certainly appears so. I made Bryce transfer before I knew you were a mediator. If I had have known what you were, I would have made him stay, as to keep a closer eye on him while we dealt with Heather. I thought if we sent him away, he would be safe. Heather blames him for her unfortunate death. But alas, it wasn't enough. Heather found him last night, and shot him.'
I was so pissed off! I mean, I thought that I was handling her okay. I mean, I was going to get around to talking with her, honest. I-
'Father Dom?' I asked, shocked. Father D was looking really, really guilty. 'Hey,' I said gently. 'It's not your fault. Heather's just really angry, okay? You couldn't stop it.' He didn't look very convinced. 'I bet if you had have kept him here, it would have turned out exactly the same, only sooner. It's not your fault, so don't feel responsible for something that you couldn't change.'
Poor guy . . .
He stared at me, and then nodded. 'You are right. We had best get her to move on into her afterlife before she attacks anyone else. I'm worried that you might be a target, Susannah, so you must be careful.'
'Yeah, whatever,' I said. 'So, what are we going to do? Exorcise her?'
'Oh, may God have mercy!' he said in slight outrage, 'Exorcisms are not the answer, Susannah! Gentle negotiation and rational persuasion are the way to go. You cannot just-'
'Yo, Father D,' I smirked, 'Don't use God's name in vain.'
He stopped, looking very shocked, but redeemed himself by doing a lightning sign of the cross. Let's just hope He saw ya, Father Dom . . . Don't want any marks against your name for heaven now . . .
He still looked a little perturbed, but I couldn't be any more sympathetic that what I'd been. He put his head in his hands. My eyes wandered back to the article about poor Bryce. I looked at his school photo.
WHOA!
My mind flashed back to earlier that day . . .
*. . . There was this tall, blond incredibly hot guy, drifting in between sunbathing people, looking lost and dejected. I lifted up my sunnies, but he was still there, with his little aura around him. Rolling my eyes, I got up and went over to talk, but he dematerialized . . . *
Oh my God . . .
'I saw him,' I said, stunned.
Father Dom looked up. 'Pardon?'
'I saw him,' I repeated, 'Bryce Martinsen. At the beach. As in today. As a ghost?'
His face changed totally. 'What? What did he say? Did he tell you who shot him? Did he-'
'Yo, don't get excited,' I butted in, pouting, 'He dematerialized before I could talk to him. And I didn't even know who he was by the, remember?'
He slackened again in disappointment. 'Oh. I suppose you didn't. Well, having heard what you recommend we do already, I won't ask you. I'm not sure how we are going to go about this, so we have to go about this very carefully.'
'Yeah, yeah,' I said vaguely, twisting my hair around my finger.
'Susannah,' he warned, 'I'm being perfectly serious here. I am asking you not to do anything that will result in an exorcism, or anything horrid like that.'
'Uh huh,' I said casually. 'Got ya. No exorcisms, what not.'
He relaxed, but not completely. I knew he didn't trust me on this. 'But something has to be done about Heather . . . '
'Yeah,' I agreed, 'Something does need to be done about her, the skank. She's gone too far . . .' I looked at Bryce Martinsen's photo again. 'I mean, damn, this guy was hot!'
(A/N: Well, at least Suze is prioritizing . . . )
~*~
It was about half seven or something before I left Father Dom's office at the Mission academy. And man, it gets dark here. Or at least, that night it did. I swear, there must be some cult against me, for all these bad things to be happening. I bet someone purposely PUT Paul in my bedroom, just to annoy me. And someone MADE Heather commit suicide, so it resulted in this whole annoying thing with her murdering hot ex-boyfriends.
But yeah. Father Dom offered to drive and all, but I'd declined, reminding him I was a big girl, and could fend for myself, despite stupid blond ghosts who went around killing innocent hotel employees just to get back at ex-boyfriends whom said dumb ghosts commit hara-kiri for were on the loose.
Okay, long sentence . . . But whatever.
And that thing about "No exorcisms, I promise" thing? I guarantee, that will soon be forgotten. I know it's bad to lie and all. And to a priest, no less. But some things have to be done. Heather has to be stopped. And if an exorcism was the only way, then an exorcism was going to take place.
Sorry Dommy . . .
So, I was walking alone. In the dark. I was cool. The amount of time I'd spent on my own in scary, dingy places was phenomenal. I'm serious. Not to brag, or anything . . .
And anyway, Carmel is nothing like Brooklyn. It was considered safe to walk around without getting attacked or whatever here. Well, by the alive, anyhow.
And furthermore, is there anyone that Suze Simon can't take? Huh?
. . . Okay, okay, don't answer that . . . I know you're all their, having coughing fits, with the word "Paul" mysteriously popping up during said coughing fits.
But yeah, give me credit, I'm pretty scary . . .
Yeah, so you get me. I walked down the dark street, listening to the gentle clicking of crickets, the beating of my heart, the pounding of my own footsteps, and the distant howling of dogs. It was like a percussion. Well, at least I hope those howls were from dogs. I would be pretty pissed if it turned out that werewolves existed, on top of the ghost thing.
I mean, enough is enough! I'm no Buffy Summers; I'm not that versatile.
My feet were echoing dully on the pavement. The street was bathed in a dim, cool blue light which didn't exhibit much of the street. Above, the moon was beaming down on me. Slowly, I remembered the frightening occurrences of the previous night, and found myself glaring into dark oblivion . . .
By God, Paul Slater made me mad . . . And he was going to pay.
Ha. To think that then, I was only had at him for making me shift. I had no idea yet . . .
Bitter cool wind was playing across my face, my bare arms, and my legs. I was stating to get the squingiest bit nervous, you know? I mean, sure this was Carmel, but sickos could be anywhere, right?
Anywhere. Like, in my bedroom. But I mean the breathing variety.
Then, suddenly, I heard something that made my heart skip a beat.
Footsteps.
Behind me.
Loud, and quick . . .
I froze in my step, but didn't turn around. I strained my ears for them, but they'd stopped also. Instead, I shrugged and kept going . . .
My forehead broke out into a light sweat. Okay, I needed to know who'd butt I was kicking in order for butts to be kicked. Surprise attacks don't work for me. This wasn't good . . .
I wanted to just turn around and convince myself that there was no one there, but I couldn't. What If there was something that I didn't want to see? Ugh, don't you just hate anxiety? Something I could so do without. I mean, they suck!
But yeah, I continued, and whaddoyaknow, the footsteps recommenced also. So I wasn't just imagining them. I kept going as if nothing was wrong.
As if someone wasn't following me . . .
But when those footsteps got faster, I freaked out. Okay, stay cool, Suze . . .
I scanned ahead, and spotted a chunky tree with a nice, wide trunk just up ahead. That would do . . . I sprinted ahead, and dived behind that, waiting.
No one stalks Suze Simon and lives to tell the tale, people . . .
As the footsteps were about two meters away, I grinned and the fear vanished from within me. All the swarming, evil butterflies blew up and evaporated. I prepared for collision . . .
WHAM!
I heard a roar of outrage, as a dark figure staggered back and into the blaze of a bright streetlight.
'Holy shit!' I yelled.
It was . . .
**************************************************************************** ****
I think I can cut it off about there . . . The faster you review, the faster another chappie will pop up! Love you all!
Regards,
Princess Roxanne.
Thank you all so very much for reviewing previous chapters, I love feeling loved. :) And for all the questions you have, I'll do my best to work them all in, rather than answer them bluntly outside the story. And I'm happy! I've just come up with an end for my story! I got my inspiration at a carnival! Yay . . . Well, it might be for another story, but we will see where the river of dreams flows . . .
...I suck.
# Enjoy! #
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Ah, Saturday . . . The one thing no girl can live without, alongside clothes, cosmetics, basic skills in tae kwon do and a love life . . .
Don't you just love waking up, really tired, and finding that you still have two hours sleep to go? I mean, it was eight. I totally planned on rise- and-shining at ten.
I closed my eyes again, and sank further into my pillow. Mmm . . .
'Wake up, li'l Susie, wake up li'l Susie. The movie wasn't so hot, Yeah it didn't have much of a plot, We fell asleep, something or other, And our reputation is shot, Wake up li'l Susie, wake up li'l Susie, We gotta go home . . .'
'Paul, piss off, I'm sleeping,' I snapped. He was playing with my hair again, plaiting it or something. Now, even though, to my bewilderment, he had a somewhat nice singing voice, I SERIOUSLY HATE THAT SONG! So, he was sailing through dangerous water here . . .
'I told your mumma that we'd be in by ten. Well Susie, baby, looks like we goofed again. Wake up li'l Susie, wake up li'l Susie, We gotta go home . . . '
Now I was miffed.
'I. Am. Going. To. KILL YOU!' I exploded, opened my eyes, and dived at him. I must have taken him by surprise, because he totally wasn't expecting a tackle like that. I pinned him down on the floor, and kneeled on him, grabbing a handful of his shirt and holding it tightly in my balled fist. He looked startled.
'Now, understand this, Paul,' I said intensely, glaring down at him, 'I'm tired. I still have slight jet lag, and I'm not in a very jolly mood with you all together, so, if you ever, I repeat, EVER wake me up with that despicable song again, I'll take away your reason for saying "Boo!" Do we have an understanding?'
He just, to my vexation, smirked. I twisted his shirt further, constricting his neck, but I'd forgotten to keep his hands out of action. He grabbed me around the waist and flipped us over, so he was leaning over me. Hey! This was not dignified!
'Perfectly,' he smiled, showing his perfect set of teeth, the row I so desperately wanted to knock out. He stood up, and furiously, I went straight back to bed. But noooo, he had to come back over and play with my hair again.
You know, I seriously wanted to decapitate him, but it did feel, you know, nice? Like when my mum used to do it when I was little . . . I turned over in my bed, and looked at him.
'Why are you so perky this morning?' I asked him. I mean, what was with the freaky, ear-to-ear smile already? He reminded me of one of those clowns you hire for kids' parties, as if it was painted on, and he couldn't stop it. I mean, it looked fake. Or maybe it was just because he was happy for all the wrong reasons . . . I dunno.
'Oh . . . nothing,' he said airily, and continued to twist a coil of my hair around his long index finger. I stared at him suspiciously, and he stared back at me, with eyes so glacial and intensely blue, it seemed as if millions of tiny microscopic shards of ice had formed his irises. I scowled and looked away. My head was still throbbing a bit . . .
My head. The head ache . . .
Last night!
'Paul! Omigod! I just remembered, what the hell was with last night? Where did you take me again? Why -'
'Whoa, slow down Susie,' he exclaimed, arching his thin dark eyebrows.
I shot him a toxic stare. I mean, I hate it when I babble, but it's annoying when people notice it. I only babble when I'm nervous, you see.
'Okay, Suze then,' he said with a wry smile. I couldn't be bothered repeating myself. I felt liked crap.
'I hope you're proud of yourself,' I muttered grumpily, rubbing my eyes, 'You've successfully ruined my Saturday. Congratulations, really.'
Then, with his strong hand, he made me sit forward, as he climbed on my bed. Huh? What? What was he doing? He plonked his butt behind me, sat cross- legged, propped my pillow on his lap, and then pulled me back so I was leaning against him. Er, this was awkward . . . but comfortable.
'Uh, and that was for?' I asked, as he began to play with my hair again, gently netting his fingers messily through my long tresses.
'Because I felt like it,' he said simply. Well, no arguments there. It was a free country. And it was also very cozy . . .
I shut my eyes again, as Paul pulled the blanket up for me.
I couldn't explain why my emotions toward him kept changing so quickly. I mean, now, I felt as though I didn't loathe him. I almost felt as if I . . . liked him.
Almost.
I was feeling really rested, but alert at the same time. I didn't want him to make me "shift" or whatever again. No, Suze Simon got used once. She's not going to let it happen again.
Well, I wasn't doing a very good job. I was almost asleep by then, when a heaven-sent voice rang out, 'Suze, phone!'
I jerked up, ripped back my bed covers, and ran out the room without a last look at Paul Slater.
~*~
'So you can come?' CeeCee gabbled from the other end of the line. I held the receiver close to my ear.
I paused. 'Probably, I'll check . . . ' I covered the mouth piece, 'MUM! CAN I GO TO THE BEACH?'
Her reply came from up in her room. 'Sure, honey. Be back by five, we're having an early dinner so your step-father and I can make it to a movie, okay?'
'THANKS!' I yelled, grinning. 'CeeCee, she said-'
'I heard,' she snapped. 'Jeez, Simon, you've busted my eardrums for sure this time.'
I made a face, but then realized that she couldn't see me. 'Whatever, Spider.'
'DON'T CALL ME THAT!!!' she thundered. I held the phone a foot away from my head.
'Uh, ow? Now I'm the one who needs ear reconstruction,' I snapped, but in a good-humoured way. She hates it when me and Adam call her Spider, on account of her last name being "Webb." But yeah, it's all fun.
'Okay, get you illegally great butt down to the beach in ten then,' she said, a little irritably, 'Adam and I'll meet you.'
~*~
'Where do you think you're going, Susie?' drawled Paul, as I was leafing through my underwear draw for a nice bikini. I was sick of my brown ones, they were fully gross now, and I'd been using my stripy red and yellow ones for showering due to the fact that Paul was psychotic AND perverted.
'Oh, I wonder,' I said sarcastically, not looking at him. 'The North Pole, really. In a bikini, Paul.'
I grabbed and handful, and through them on the bed, trying to decide which one. The green ones? The swirly purple and pink ones? The blue hand-knitted ones? Or the black ones with white piping?
'I like the black ones,' Paul offered.
'Whatever, Goth boy,' I said, and grabbed them. I went into my bathroom, and firmly wrapped a towel around me, slid my boxers off, and pulled on the bikini bottoms. I basically did the same for the top.
See? See what I have to go through to remain unseen? It's an outrage, it's illegal!
It's...! It's not that bad . . .
Jesus, what is WRONG with me?
A lot. Oh, a lot . . .
I emerged from the bathroom, looking very nice, if I do say so myself. Well, Paul certainly approved, by the way he was eyeing me. Er . . . right.
'I've still got the touch,' he said, looking at me hungrily. I grimaced at him. I guess it was wise to evacuate ASAP.
~*~
'Suze, you look mad!' complimented Adam. I smiled, and shoved my towel at his face. He laughed, and tickled me, until CeeCee came over, and smacked him really hard over the head.
With Adam groaning, and muttering something about anger management, we walked over to a nice clean are of sand, and set down our beach towels and snacks. I helped CeeCee set up her umbrella so she wouldn't get burnt from the sun, her being albino and all. While Adam went -or attempted - surfing - and failing direly - CeeCee and I lay on our towels, chatting. CeeCee's bikini was a gorgeous violet colour that totally matched her eyes. The ocean was a deep cerulean blue today, with the sun high in the sky, beating down. The sky was totally clear, too. The beach was scattered with people, all looking either very tanned, or very pale, in need of tanning.
I loved spending time with friends. But there's something that can really get on my nerves. And that's when I see certain people wandering around aimlessly. Certain people in the spectral category. There was this tall, blond guy, drifting in between sunbathing people, looking lost and dejected. I lifted up my sunnies, but he was still there, with his little aura around him. Rolling my eyes, I got up and went over to talk, but he dematerialized! Not because I was going over, but well, I dunno. He just did.
How infuriating was that? Well, he so couldn't blame me for not helping him, could he.
I went along the shore, and kicked the water, so heaps of little droplets flew up, before descending again. The beads of water looked like crystal marbles, reflecting the sun and the sea. I love splashing.
'Er, Suze? What was the point of that?' asked CeeCee, as I went back over.
I shrugged. 'Nothing. I just needed to, uh, get wet, is all.'
She raised her eyebrows at me. 'Whatever, Simon.'
~*~
After four and a half hours at the beach, we decided to go bum around my house. So, with sand-caked feet and dark skin - well, not CeeCee, who was as pearly white as ever - we tramped back to my place of residence. Me and Adam had to take turns holding the umbrella for CeeCee, who still couldn't be exposed to sun, due to her sensitive skin.
'What we do for you,' grumbled Adam on his turn.
'What are friends for?' chirped CeeCee cheerfully.
'Well, in your case, strictly for homework purposes,' he replied testily. 'My arms ACHE!'
When we finally got to my house, I let Adam use the normal bathroom to shower off and get changed, while CeeCee and I went up to my room to rinse the sand off. But as I got to my bedroom door, the first thing I heard was running water . . .
CeeCee's POV
I followed Suze into her room. It was weird, because I thought she didn't usually let her brothers shower in her room. Because, there certainly was someone in there now. I could hear it. Suze gently opened her bathroom door, and I tried to peak behind her, but she brushed me off. What? I wasn't trying to perv on Brad or Jake or anything, and definitely not the other on, David, but I was curious, ok?
When I saw Suze's eyes bulge, I automatically assumed it was David. I mean, she looked panicking.
'What?' I asked, grinning, and pushed her out of the way.
But what I saw . . . oh my God.
The shower curtain was to the side and all, and I could totally see the water running, but there was no one in the shower. But . . . there was. The way the water was running, it looked like it was running down a body.
'Suze?' I sang, way freaked, 'What's that?!'
Suze was sitting on her bed, looking disgusted.
I turned back, and the water had stopped. But there were still drips falling off some invisible body. WHAT WAS GOING ON?!
But when wet, slippery footsteps came splashing towards me, I guess I passed out . . .
Suze's POV.
'What the hell is your problem?!' I yelled, and hauled CeeCee over to my bed. There was sand all over her, and mum would kill me, but I wasn't really concerned about that now, you know?
Paul shrugged. He had one of MY towels wrapped around him lower half. I swear, I was going to burn it . . .
'What?' he asked, 'I needed a shower.'
'B - But . . . B-' I spluttered, 'YOU CAN'T EVEN FEEL IT!'
He looked nonchalant. 'So? I can remember it.'
I felt like I was going to explode! 'But CeeCee SAW YOU!'
He laughed. That's right. He just laughed at the fact that my secret had almost been exposed.
'Well, she's not going to remember it,' he informed me. 'Just tell her it was all a dream or some shit like that.'
I looked worriedly at CeeCee, and then back at him. 'That won't work. You don't know CeeCee.'
He looked down at her, and raised his eyebrows. 'She albino, or something?'
'No shit, Sherlock,' I snarled, 'Now get your clothes back on, you're making me nauseous . . .'
'No, I'm quite comfortable,' he said, and gave a huge, fake stretch.
'Frankly, I don't give a damn,' I said. I know, way "Gone With the Wind," but still. 'Look, just watch her. I need to get this sand off me. I mean, it's everywhere . . . If she wakes, give me a yell. It's not like anyone will hear you,' I added nastily.
'Well, you give me a yell if you need a hand getting all that sand off you. Because my hand is glad to help. Hey, screw the hand, I'll go headfirst,' he smirked.
He did not just say that . . .
'Paul? Grow up,' I said, rolling my eyes, and going into the bathroom.
I turned on the taps and stood under the hot water for about five minutes, when Paul called, 'Suze. Snow White is waking up, minus the kiss from Prince Charming.'
'That's Sleeping Beauty, you idiot,' I called, turning the taps off.
'Yeah, well, Sleeping Beauty wasn't albino, was she.'
God, how racist can you get? I glared into space, as I dried myself with a DIFFERENT towel. I was SO scarred for life. I mean, Paul Slater in the buff? Those mental pictures would never fade . . . And don't get excited, I only saw the butt. Nothing frontal. I mean, sure, his butt was nice and all, but this is PAUL SLATER we are discussing here.
'Suze? Who are you talking to? What's Sleeping Beauty?' called CeeCee groggily. I slipped into a dirty denim miniskirt and a black halter-neck, and exited the bathroom. CeeCee was lying on my bed, with Paul in the corner of my room, looking bored. Well, at least he was fully clothed now.
Shudder . . .
'She's your friend?' Paul scoffed. 'I thought you'd hang with more the skank type. Not that you are one,' he added. I glared at him, but I couldn't retort, because CeeCee was present.
CeeCee looked perplexed, poor thing. 'Suze, I think I need an aspirin,' she groaned. Then, to top it all off, Adam swaggered in, looking a lot fresher.
'Hello ladies,' he grinned, and flopped down next to CeeCee on my bed. I saw Paul glare at him, and look him up and down. Eyeing the competition? Ha, whatever, Adam was just a friend. Paul, however, thought otherwise. He walked closer to him.
'Who's he? Another friend?' he asked corrosively. I nodded discretely. 'Just . . . a friend?' Again, I nodded angrily. Paul continued to glare. 'You never let me sit on your bed . . .'
'No, Suze, what happened?' CeeCee demanded of me. 'I remember seeing-'
'Look, Adam, can you go ask my mum for an aspirin?' I asked in a high voice. Adam, looked put out. 'But I just got here-'
'Now,' I said dangerously.
He made a face. 'Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a knot . . . ' he groaned and left.
Paul looked scandalized. 'Hey! I'm the only one that's allowed to think about your panties!'
I scowled at him.
CeeCee glowered. 'Why did I fall asleep?' she asked.
'You didn't. You, ah . . . '
'Banged your head?' Paul suggested.
'Banged you head!' I said quickly, sending him a brief "thank you" look.
She nodded slowly. 'I don't have a concussion, do I?' she asked anxiously.
'No,' I said firmly. 'Just, stay lying d-'
'Suze!' she screamed, 'What's that?!'
I turned, and to my fury, I saw that Paul had picked up a photo of me and my mum when I was about six. It would have appeared to be floating in the air to CeeCee. Oh shit . . .
'You look cute in this picture,' he commented lightly, thumbing my young face.
I could have exorcised him there and then, I swear it! I quickly stood in front of it, and said, 'I think maybe you do have a concussion, CeeCee. Sleep.'
She frowned. 'Sleep is good,' she said, and settled down on my bed.
I bit the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from detonating. This was totally uncool. If Paul even thought that he was going to reveal my secret ability to my friends, well, he had another damned thing coming . . .
I expressed my umbrage at his antics by smartly slapping his face. He seemed to find it funny, but promptly dematerialized.
Adam stumbled back in. 'Aspirin?' he said, throwing me two little capsules. I put them on my bedside table for when CeeCee woke up. He clumsily put a half filled glass of water beside them, and judging by the water that was down his front, he'd either not dried himself properly after his shower or he'd run up the stairs. I'd wager on the latter.
He made a face at me. 'Why's CeeCee out cold? If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. What, did she fail her Computer Studies Course or something?'
I smiled. CeeCee would be prone to fainting if she received an F, or even a C, in Computer. She was somewhat a nerd at it. Don't think I'm dissing her or anything. I'd never diss CeeCee. She's one of my best friends. But I guess it's annoying that my IQ times two wouldn't equal Adam's . . . let alone hers.
Adam was talking about something that had happened in his last Chemistry class with CeeCee, but I wasn't listening. It sounded funny, but I was deep in thought about how I was, well, a bit envious of CeeCee. Oh, a bit jealous even. I mean, she didn't even believe in ghosts. It must be so nice to have that luxury. Sure, she was albino, but she was a really gorgeous one. It just made her unique. I was even a bit annoyed at Adam on her behalf, for never knowing about her crush on him.
He was still talking! 'So I breathed in some of the helium, and then I sang that song from The Sweetest Thing, and she-'
'Adam, for God's sake!' I snapped.
He stopped short. 'Huh? What's up with you?'
'You two are so annoying!' I said with exasperation.
He blinked. 'Er, we kind of know that, but I don't know how CeeCee could be annoying you at the moment, seeing how she is comatose and all-'
'Oh, never mind,' I said.
He just stared at me in bewilderment. God, it was so tempting to tell him about how CeeCee felt about him, but that would be betraying her trust.
'Suze, I'm sorry if I-'
But I was spared his reaction to my close revelations of CeeCee's emotions towards him, by the bellowing of my mother.
'Suze! PHONE!' she yelled.
Huh? Adam and CeeCee were here. Who'd be calling me? Surely not Gina . . .
I threw Adam an apologetic look, and burst out from my room. I got downstairs, and snatched the phone from my mother.
'Hello?' I said uncertainly into the receiver.
'Susannah! I'm so glad you're home! Oh, this is an emergency, I need you to get down to the mission as soon as possible-'
'Uh, Father D, it's a weekend. It would look REALLY bad if I went to school on a Saturday, you know,' I informed him.
He sighed in frustration. 'This is nothing to do with school! Last night, there was a- oh, I can't tell you over the phone, please come quickly!'
This was really weird . . . 'Okay, okay, cool it. I'm coming . . . '
~*~
I got mum to get Jake into driving me over. I told her to send Adam home when CeeCee woke up. Hey, it was an odd situation for me too, you know. But I was standing out the front of the rectory in my mini and my halter-neck, waiting for the principal of my school. Oh, on a Saturday. Yes, the fact that we were meeting to discuss ghosts has been struck from the record.
I knocked, and finally he answered, and led me worriedly to his office in the school.
'Okay, Father Dom, what's this about? I'm confused. Mum's already asking questions about why I'm here, I mean, I have no reason to be at school on the weekend that she knows of. You are going to completely blow my cover. I've been trying to keep it a secret from her since-'
'Susannah, I don't know what you're saying, you're talking too fast for an old man like me, but you must understand that this is grave, otherwise, I would not have called you here out of school hours. Now, take a seat, I need to show you something.'
I sat in the chair opposite his desk. He sat behind it, dug into his drawers, and extracted a newspaper from them. He flicked through a couple of pages. Oh great, who's guessing "Susannah Simon has been found to be able to communicate with the dead. Call her, she charges hourly."?
Just my luck . . .
'You better not have spilt the beans on me, Father Dom,' I said with annoyance, 'Because if you have, by God, you can-'
'Of course not . . . and don't use God's name in vain,' he added in disapproval. 'For goodness sake, I can' find this page.'
'Well, if it was important, why isn't it on the front?' I tested.
'Because it happened in New York, and isn't immediate to us,' he replied promptly, ruffling thought the paper noisily.
Well fine then . . .
'Ah . . .' he said in triumph, and laid the paper flat on his clean, really religious looking desk, what with it's crucifixes and miniature statues of Mary and all these other big wig saints. I went around the other side of his desk, and craned over his shoulder. I wonder why he couldn't find the article. I mean, er, it was only page two.
Priests . . .
The words, "MYSTERIOUS NEW YORK HOMICIDE" bugged out at me from the page. Oooh, catchy . . . Next to this average looking article was a picture of some ambulance people taking two covered bodies on stretchers into an ambulance, with police lights in mid flash in the background, and below were some people crying, and finally, down the bottom, was a school photo of some dude. He was wearing a navy blue school jacket, so he looked like he came from a private school. But yeah. The guy looked strangely familiar, too.
Hang on.
Didn't CeeCee tell me that on photo day, we have to wear jackets? She SHOWED me hers. And it was exactly like that . . .
'Father Dom!' I said, 'Did he go to our school?!'
He turned his head at me, a slightly disbelieving expression on his old face. 'Please don't tell me that, in all that time, you haven't read the article yet Susannah?'
'Okay,' I said, 'I won't.'
He sighed. 'I will read it to you then. Go sit back down.'
I did, but stuck my tongue out at him behind his back. I know, God would probably zap me with lightning for it later in life, but I'll risk it.
(A/N: Okay, excuse any mistakes I've made in either article writing or just known facts about NY, I'm from the Sunburnt Country, remember?)
He pushed his glasses up his nose, and smoothed down the paper unnecessarily again. 'Now listen to this . . . "Seventeen-year-old Bryce Martinsen, and thirty-eight year old Arnold Douglas, were found dead in the Le Grande Hotel, New York. Both suffered bullet wounds. Martinsen's family members are devastated, and are unavailable for comment, and Douglas's relatives cannot be contacted yet. NYPD believes that Martinsen's murder was intentional, and that Douglas impeded the killer. "In Martinsen's hotel room, a strange smudge of lipstick was found on the wall that is being tested for any DNA that will lead to the killer but below that was written "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Sugar is Sweet but Revenge is Too" also in lipstick. By this, NYPD suspected the killer to possibly be a former lover, but Martinsen's mother did divulge that his most recent girlfriend committed suicide, further leading police to suspect a relative of this woman. "But what is bothering NYPD the most is what Dr. Jane Pavlov told the media. 'It is clear that both men were shot, but what has us stumped is the fact that both bullets were somehow retrieved. It is possible to recover a bullet after fire, but how it was done so cleanly is remarkable. We know that neither bullets passed through the bodies entirely, so where they are now is unknown. The killer obviously didn't want us tracing them. But it is highly mysterious.' "It is highly mysterious. Police will be undergoing further investigations and hopefully, after autopsies, answers will arise. If anyone has any information on this case, please contact the NYPD as soon as possible."
(A/N: So? Will I be a hot shot reporter, you think?)
Father Dom stopped, and looked over at me expectantly.
'Er, and that has to do with us, what?' I said.
Okay, so what if I hadn't clicked yet?!
He groaned. 'Susannah, didn't you know? Haven't you heard from your classmates? Yes, Bryce did go this school. I told him to transfer, because I was worried about his safety. His ex-girlfriend, the one who committed suicide, was Heather Chambers.'
Holy shit!
'What?!' I demanded. 'She killed him? And she got the bullets out? Oh my God!'
'Don't use the Lord's name in vain,' he snapped again. 'And it certainly appears so. I made Bryce transfer before I knew you were a mediator. If I had have known what you were, I would have made him stay, as to keep a closer eye on him while we dealt with Heather. I thought if we sent him away, he would be safe. Heather blames him for her unfortunate death. But alas, it wasn't enough. Heather found him last night, and shot him.'
I was so pissed off! I mean, I thought that I was handling her okay. I mean, I was going to get around to talking with her, honest. I-
'Father Dom?' I asked, shocked. Father D was looking really, really guilty. 'Hey,' I said gently. 'It's not your fault. Heather's just really angry, okay? You couldn't stop it.' He didn't look very convinced. 'I bet if you had have kept him here, it would have turned out exactly the same, only sooner. It's not your fault, so don't feel responsible for something that you couldn't change.'
Poor guy . . .
He stared at me, and then nodded. 'You are right. We had best get her to move on into her afterlife before she attacks anyone else. I'm worried that you might be a target, Susannah, so you must be careful.'
'Yeah, whatever,' I said. 'So, what are we going to do? Exorcise her?'
'Oh, may God have mercy!' he said in slight outrage, 'Exorcisms are not the answer, Susannah! Gentle negotiation and rational persuasion are the way to go. You cannot just-'
'Yo, Father D,' I smirked, 'Don't use God's name in vain.'
He stopped, looking very shocked, but redeemed himself by doing a lightning sign of the cross. Let's just hope He saw ya, Father Dom . . . Don't want any marks against your name for heaven now . . .
He still looked a little perturbed, but I couldn't be any more sympathetic that what I'd been. He put his head in his hands. My eyes wandered back to the article about poor Bryce. I looked at his school photo.
WHOA!
My mind flashed back to earlier that day . . .
*. . . There was this tall, blond incredibly hot guy, drifting in between sunbathing people, looking lost and dejected. I lifted up my sunnies, but he was still there, with his little aura around him. Rolling my eyes, I got up and went over to talk, but he dematerialized . . . *
Oh my God . . .
'I saw him,' I said, stunned.
Father Dom looked up. 'Pardon?'
'I saw him,' I repeated, 'Bryce Martinsen. At the beach. As in today. As a ghost?'
His face changed totally. 'What? What did he say? Did he tell you who shot him? Did he-'
'Yo, don't get excited,' I butted in, pouting, 'He dematerialized before I could talk to him. And I didn't even know who he was by the, remember?'
He slackened again in disappointment. 'Oh. I suppose you didn't. Well, having heard what you recommend we do already, I won't ask you. I'm not sure how we are going to go about this, so we have to go about this very carefully.'
'Yeah, yeah,' I said vaguely, twisting my hair around my finger.
'Susannah,' he warned, 'I'm being perfectly serious here. I am asking you not to do anything that will result in an exorcism, or anything horrid like that.'
'Uh huh,' I said casually. 'Got ya. No exorcisms, what not.'
He relaxed, but not completely. I knew he didn't trust me on this. 'But something has to be done about Heather . . . '
'Yeah,' I agreed, 'Something does need to be done about her, the skank. She's gone too far . . .' I looked at Bryce Martinsen's photo again. 'I mean, damn, this guy was hot!'
(A/N: Well, at least Suze is prioritizing . . . )
~*~
It was about half seven or something before I left Father Dom's office at the Mission academy. And man, it gets dark here. Or at least, that night it did. I swear, there must be some cult against me, for all these bad things to be happening. I bet someone purposely PUT Paul in my bedroom, just to annoy me. And someone MADE Heather commit suicide, so it resulted in this whole annoying thing with her murdering hot ex-boyfriends.
But yeah. Father Dom offered to drive and all, but I'd declined, reminding him I was a big girl, and could fend for myself, despite stupid blond ghosts who went around killing innocent hotel employees just to get back at ex-boyfriends whom said dumb ghosts commit hara-kiri for were on the loose.
Okay, long sentence . . . But whatever.
And that thing about "No exorcisms, I promise" thing? I guarantee, that will soon be forgotten. I know it's bad to lie and all. And to a priest, no less. But some things have to be done. Heather has to be stopped. And if an exorcism was the only way, then an exorcism was going to take place.
Sorry Dommy . . .
So, I was walking alone. In the dark. I was cool. The amount of time I'd spent on my own in scary, dingy places was phenomenal. I'm serious. Not to brag, or anything . . .
And anyway, Carmel is nothing like Brooklyn. It was considered safe to walk around without getting attacked or whatever here. Well, by the alive, anyhow.
And furthermore, is there anyone that Suze Simon can't take? Huh?
. . . Okay, okay, don't answer that . . . I know you're all their, having coughing fits, with the word "Paul" mysteriously popping up during said coughing fits.
But yeah, give me credit, I'm pretty scary . . .
Yeah, so you get me. I walked down the dark street, listening to the gentle clicking of crickets, the beating of my heart, the pounding of my own footsteps, and the distant howling of dogs. It was like a percussion. Well, at least I hope those howls were from dogs. I would be pretty pissed if it turned out that werewolves existed, on top of the ghost thing.
I mean, enough is enough! I'm no Buffy Summers; I'm not that versatile.
My feet were echoing dully on the pavement. The street was bathed in a dim, cool blue light which didn't exhibit much of the street. Above, the moon was beaming down on me. Slowly, I remembered the frightening occurrences of the previous night, and found myself glaring into dark oblivion . . .
By God, Paul Slater made me mad . . . And he was going to pay.
Ha. To think that then, I was only had at him for making me shift. I had no idea yet . . .
Bitter cool wind was playing across my face, my bare arms, and my legs. I was stating to get the squingiest bit nervous, you know? I mean, sure this was Carmel, but sickos could be anywhere, right?
Anywhere. Like, in my bedroom. But I mean the breathing variety.
Then, suddenly, I heard something that made my heart skip a beat.
Footsteps.
Behind me.
Loud, and quick . . .
I froze in my step, but didn't turn around. I strained my ears for them, but they'd stopped also. Instead, I shrugged and kept going . . .
My forehead broke out into a light sweat. Okay, I needed to know who'd butt I was kicking in order for butts to be kicked. Surprise attacks don't work for me. This wasn't good . . .
I wanted to just turn around and convince myself that there was no one there, but I couldn't. What If there was something that I didn't want to see? Ugh, don't you just hate anxiety? Something I could so do without. I mean, they suck!
But yeah, I continued, and whaddoyaknow, the footsteps recommenced also. So I wasn't just imagining them. I kept going as if nothing was wrong.
As if someone wasn't following me . . .
But when those footsteps got faster, I freaked out. Okay, stay cool, Suze . . .
I scanned ahead, and spotted a chunky tree with a nice, wide trunk just up ahead. That would do . . . I sprinted ahead, and dived behind that, waiting.
No one stalks Suze Simon and lives to tell the tale, people . . .
As the footsteps were about two meters away, I grinned and the fear vanished from within me. All the swarming, evil butterflies blew up and evaporated. I prepared for collision . . .
WHAM!
I heard a roar of outrage, as a dark figure staggered back and into the blaze of a bright streetlight.
'Holy shit!' I yelled.
It was . . .
**************************************************************************** ****
I think I can cut it off about there . . . The faster you review, the faster another chappie will pop up! Love you all!
Regards,
Princess Roxanne.