Disclaimer: I WANNA BE MEG CABOT!!! I WANNA PUBLISH BOOKS AND BE FAMOUS AND HAVE THOUSANDS OF TEENAGERS ADORE ME!!! I WANNA BE A TEEN IDOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A/N: Bonourno dudes and dudettes. My apologies for not updating soon but shock horror disaster struck! My laptop's hardrive broke. That's right. Broke. Deleting my hundreds of photos, movies, music, and STORIES. All my stories. All my poetry. Gone. GONE. Oh how i screamed. I kinda lost the will to live after that. My laptop is like my soul. But then, i thought, NO. I am strong. I am all woman. I can do this. But then i had EXAMS so i kinda didnt have time to write. But now i do have time. So i am writing. And finishing. So yeah.
UnangelicHalo: (I'm afraid you spelt stupendous amazingly rong) You kill people. In the story, i mean. Dear lordy lordy lord. Well, as long as it keeps you happy, I guess...
kewine: Please don't pull out your hair...
iluvSETHCOHEN: Everybody loves SETH COHEN. He is the purdiest little thing ever... I am afraid mon story is coming to an end soon...BUT WAIT! For I am already pondering upon the plot of another... It's only a matter of time, my dear... You are so sweet, even if you are a Jesse hater. Thank ye kindly, ma'am. (I do try my best to make the kisses a wee bit saucy, you should check out the books i read, lol. On second thoughts, don't. You would only judge me. And mock me.)
alia: thank you and Canada? How COOL. Do you eat lots of pancakes? Do you drink maple syrup straight from the tree?
Nice Hayley: Hahaha, you do make moi laugh. First it was Jesse-Jesse-Jesse then it was Paul-Paul-Paul. Shocking, foul wench!
Oenone: Could your name be any odder? I am glad you love my story. HAHAHA. I LOVE MY REVIEWERS.
Chayter: Hai hai. Bai bai. It all makes sense.
Sma: Do you actually mean Sma or do you mean Sam? Either way, cool name. I am going to name my piglets (children) Sam.
Esodes08: Do I attract the odd-named peeps or something? WHAT IS WRONG WITH A NORMAL NAME??? I totally agree, i just don't know what's got into those pesky teenagers now-a-days. She kinda regretted ditching Sean. But then again, he did kinda sexually assault her (and let's face it, who doesn't?) and, if you ask me, which you should seeing as i am the author and control my characters, Sean was a little bit...dull and clingy. I'm with you - FLUFF KICKS ASS. And did you really think i would mess up Suze and Jesse's relationship forever?? OBVIOUSLY they're gonna get back together. But...are they now? Read this chappie, your doubts are with mine...
Lucy Lei: I know a girl called Lucy Lei...she goes to my school...suspicious... - puts pipe in mouth and places Sherlock hat thingy on head -
angelicdevil9281: HAHHAA! I can do it and i did. Oh the power. Louisa is a weiner. Of course i wanna can her.
Jess: Meg Cabot says Twighlight is PROBS the last one in the series. Oh blast, here come the tears again...
"What the hell do you want, bitch?"
I breathed a sigh of relief into Paul's intrusive lips. He yanked them away from my mouth, leaving it tingly, swollen, and bruised. I scowled at the back of his head, his curly locks shining like something out of a Wella advert. His hands and body were still on me and I tried to squiggle out of his spearing fingers.
Only I didn't have to.
That's because Louisa had flicked her eyes across the my room...and flung Paul with them.
Aw, looks like our little girl's all grown up.
Then her eyes flicked back to mine. I heard an "oof!" as Paul fell onto my bed. Louisa's eyes were like steel as they regarded me coolly. Her pupils were small, as if the grey color that had replaced the usual ocean blue had fogged over her pupils, pushing them back and back.
"You can go now. Seriously. I really just needed you to get Paul off of me," I stood up and brushed myself down, aware of the daggers Louisa was glaring at me.
"Hey!" I heard Paul object from the bed, trying to wriggle loose of Louisa's invicible iron grip.
Louisa merely flipped him over so he was hovering three feet above my bedspread, facing toward it. Then she let him drop.
Another muffled protest issued from his lips.
Ironic, really. Paul was right where he wanted to be – on my bed – and Louisa had Paul where she wanted him – on a bed. And yet, neither of them were satisfied.
Louisa pinned him to the bed with her mind and Paul's body went rigid as he was forced, straight as a plank, against my bed covers.
Then she turned to me.
"You are gonna pay, bitch," she growled. I raised my eyebrow speculatively. Truth be told, there was a small shaking in my boots. Something told me this wasn't gonna be easy.
"You think you are so much better than me. And you know what?" She put her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin.
Oh puh-lease.
"I am?" I tilted my head to the side and widened my eyes in mock innocence.
She flushed with anger and I swear her hair crackled.
"You are so dead Susie Simon," her lip lifted in one corner along with the above nostril.
Attractive.
"Suze," I said slowly. "The name's Suze. S-U-Z-E. Got it, Lulu? Or you want me to give it to you one more time?"
She stalked towards me with her arms outstretched. Kinda like some strange zombie-barbie.
She reached me and her fingertips brushed my neck. "You are so dead, Susie."
I pulled back my arm and twisted my body with it.
"I guess I'm gonna have to give it to you again, huh? S!" Slam. "U." Slam. "Z." Slam. "E." Slam.
Louisa span and fell to the floor.
"Jesus, Simon. Remind me never to get your name wrong. Although, you do look pretty cute when you're smashing someone's-"
He was cut off when his throat contracted.
That's right. Contracted. As in, an invisible hand was clamped down on his throat and was slowly constricting his aqir supply.
I ran to my bed and crawled next to him. He was rapidly turning a shade of magenta and his muscles were straining along his neck.
I ran over to Louisa and hauled her up. "Stop it! You're killing him! Stop it!" My voice was high and frantic. And, I'm ashamed to say, I was growing a little hysterical. I shook her shoulders violently and she looked at me blankly.
I heard Paul give a choke.
"Please..." I whispered. My eyes pleaded with hers and I felt my grip on her arms tighten briefly then loosen, as my grip on reality went with it.
And then I heard it. One of the sweetest sounds to grace my ears, ever.
Paul taking a breath.
I whipped round to look at Paul and saw him gulping in air hungrily. I let out a laugh and felt my knees weaken with relief. Paul was OK. He was OK. He was breathing. He was...
Alive! Oh God, the joy and relief I felt swallowed, consumed my body and mind. Why I was caring so much for this, I don't know. But God, I did. Care, that is.
And then I was in Shadowland.
One second I was thinking I had never been so glad to hear Paul breathing in my life, then next, I was on my own all-expensise paid holiday to my least favourite place on earth.
Probably my least favourite because it wasn't on earth.
"Hey!" I feebly objected. I mean, here I was, knowing I would wake up with one killer of a hangover, but I don't get to party first. Talk about God having a grudge.
I heard a sniffle behind me. Louisa was standing in front of one of the doors looking a little worse for wear.
Blood is so not her color.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be liked. That's all. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just wanted someone to like me," her voice quivering and her long camel lashes were sticking together with damp.
"By trying to kill them?" I blinked incredulously. Who ever told her I didn't like her in the first place? Sure, she was a pain in the ass. But that didn't mean I didn't like her! The MacDonald adverts on TV are a pain in the ass, yet, can I resist sinking my teeth into all that fat, grease, and meat?
Yeah, right.
Louisa flinched at my remark and a tear rolled her face, like a glass droplet of ice, falling into the blanket of fog. I stood staring at her.
OK, maybe I could have been a little more compassionate towards her. She had, after all, been shot by the man she loved and, until recently, thought loved her back.
But I had never openly disliked her. I just don't do chirpy. Do I look like a cheerleader to you, for pity's sake?
I deal with the dead, not pompoms.
"Why did you bring me here, Louisa?" I cast a wary eye over but her face remained overtly sad.
"To say goodbye. To apologise. To get away from the truth."
The last remark got my attention. The way she said it – in a half sigh of hurt, realisation and whist – made me stand a little straighter and quash my feelings of loathe for our surroundings. "What truth?"
She gave a last sigh, a sigh so deep it seemed to come from the very dredges of her heart, bringing up any other painful memories that were nestled on the way. A sigh that showed how incomplete and empty she truly felt. Her wholeness was a façade. Her eternal verve was a shield.
And she had only just realised.
"The truth that no one here likes me. You don't. Paul doesn't. Harry didn't. The truth that while I was alive, I was alone. And dead, I still am," she gave a quiet hiccup of grief. "I'm unlovable." The whispered voice in which she spoke was so quiet it was as if the fog had just absorbed it to keep for itself.
Louisa stared at me with wide, honest eyes. They were scared. For the first time, I was looking at Louisa. Looking into her. And I saw her loneliness and pain.
"No," I said, "you're not."
"Then why doesn't anyone like me?" Her voice wasn't whiny or wheedling. Her voice was bare and raw. She looked at me as if were an angel, sent by God to answer her questions. As if I were her saviour.
I can barely save money, let alone a lost soul.
But I gave it a go.
"They do like you, Louisa. People like you. You had friends when you were alive. You had a man who loved you!" I almost gave a bitter laugh at the memory of Jesse and all the struggle I had to go through to get him.. "It wasn't your fault he deserted you. Men are like that. Commitment phobes. Scum."
She gave a weak giggle and sniffed. I smiled and carried on.
"If guys are anything like they are when they're watching TV as they are with girls, then we better give up now. My step-brothers are constantly changing channel when they're 'watching' TV. It's flick flick flick – pause – flick flick flick. They don't give a moment's consideration for the channel they left behind. And do you know what happens?"
Louisa shook her head and gazed at me expectantly.
"The remote batteries die and they're stuck watching the chick-flick marathon on HBO."
Louisa snorted and giggled. I was glad Jesse hated the television. Louisa's tears had stopped flowing and her lip had stopped trembling.
There was a minute of silence as I looked around, quietly pondering if one day I could come up and stick a sign post up here. "Eternal damnation – 5 miles. Heavenly peace – 1 mile" Maybe I could even stick a few signs on the doors like "Exit" or "Beware of the dog".
"My parents loved me." I looked around sharply. Louisa was looking at me intently. "Definitely," she continued, defiant and sure.
I just nodded. Great, Suze. Real comforting.
Louisa gave a small "Hmm" of content then focused on me. She smiled warmly and held out her hand.
I stared down at it as if she were offering me a toad.
Then I shook it.
"Bye, Suze," was all she said. And then I was blinded by an intense light, and she was gone.
I shook my head, bemused. This mediating business was getting weirder and weirder. Just when I thought I was getting the hang of it, along comes a chirpy come homicidal come lonely cheerleader ghost with a split personality big enough to share among the entire of California's population.
I gave a start when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. Then I recovered my wits about me and grabbed the offending item – the warm, large, soft offending item – and flipped it over my body. Dragging along the rest of the offending body with it for the ride.