You people rule the world . . . Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Um, I'll
see how much of this I can write tonight. I don't have a clue how this
chapter's going to turn out, but I'll see . . .
Oh, and Sky? Paul's MINE. Leather and all. So lust after him all you want, ha. Nerdy ner! Hehehe . . . Natasha . . . *insert evil laugh here.*
And Corcra? . . . uh, um . . . *not thinking of anything witty to say* . . . ha ha.
**************************************************************************** **********
Suze's POV.
'Help! Help, someone! I think she's DEAD!'
I choked on my breath. Dead? At a party? Immediately, I followed the sound of the scream. It seemed it be from quite a while away.
CeeCee rushed up to me, pursued by Adam. They both looked freaked. 'You heard that too?' they asked as I was running through the bushes. The person was still screaming. I burst through a tall hedge, and landed with catlike grace on the floor . . .
. . . Face to face with a very with face.
I stood up, very quickly.
'Thank God!' someone shrieked. This chick, who must have been from RLS, fell into me. She was clinging onto my arms with such force my circulation seemed non-existent anymore. Ow?
'She's dead! Call an ambulance! TARA'S DE-E-E-E-EAD!' she howled at me, tears dribbling from her sealed eyes. Her forehead was wrinkled in pain.
'Shhhh,' I soothed, and patted her awkwardly on the back. Compassion? Not my forte. Nah, I'm more gifted with the butt kicking stuff. I couldn't see why, if "Tara" was dead, an ambulance was needed so urgently. Okay, fair's fair. It could have turned out all right. But I doubted that. I looked over at the girl on the ground. Her eyes, they were literally grey. Like a dead fish. Sunken, lifeless . . .
CeeCee squatted, and placed two trembling fingers to the girl's wrist.
'She's got no pulse,' she stated in a low, strangled voice.
I felt sick. The girl wailed even louder. Adam stumbled over, and pried from fingers from my arms. She screamed louder, and crumbled to the ground, my hands clawed and her body tense. Adam settled next to her, holding her around the shoulders consolingly.
He was going to be a great dad . . .
It was funny how I could think like this in such a situation . . .
'CeeCee,' I said. My voice sounded high and demanding. 'Do you know how she died?'
She frowned. I could just make out her trembling hands. 'No . . . She's very pale, though. And she's got blood on her sweater,' she pointed to a few drops on the girl's chest. 'She could have been dumped here. Maybe she lost a lot of blood somewhere else, and they abandoned her out here . . . ' she trailed off.
Tara, her eyes . . . Grey . . . She was a pretty girl, too. Well, would have been when she was alive, anyway. Her hair was light brown, and seemed freshly washed.
'No,' I said. 'She came here for the party. She wasn't dumped. But she looks like she's been dead for ages . . .'
The girl shrieked into the night, struggling against Adam. He held her, still trying to make her stop crying. By now, a few people were filtering through the trees to check out what was going on. They froze when they saw the body.
No . . . Tara. She was a girl . . . Don't call her that . . .
A tall RLS guy gasped when he saw Tara. He looked over at the crying girl, and his face went blank. He ran over to her.
'Emily! Em, come on, come with me . . . ' he stood her up, thanking Adam briefly, and guided her away.
I stared at everyone. All they were doing was looking. Like it was something interesting. That was SICK.
'A girl is dead!' I yelled at them, my voice shuddering. 'Has any of you had the freakin' sense to 911?'
They all stared at me, looking very stiff and expressionless. Then, a guy with blond hair slowly withdrew a little cell phone from his pocket. All eyes were on him as he dialed.
'Hello?'
I saw his lips moving, but I didn't hear him. CeeCee's shaking was getting worse, and Adam just wasn't moving at all.
'Yeah,' the blond dude finished off. 'Be here in five. Thanks.'
~*~
Adam drove us home. Dopey, I think, got Scott or someone to give him a ride, so he could sneak in while no one was looking. That's what I heard, any way.
We sat in silence in Adam's car. I was in the back seat with CeeCee. She wasn't moving much. I think she was in shock at seeing a real dead body. I suppose it was very traumatic for her. I was a little shaken up, but no biggie for me. But still . . .
'Did you see her eyes?'
CeeCee had broken the silence. It seemed like a crime when she did it, like she'd shattered something sacred.
'Yeah,' I replied.
Silence.
It continued until we dropped CeeCee off at her house. Adam and I watched her walk up to her front door. Then he called me into the front seat.
'So, Suze,' he said awkwardly, 'Did she come back? As a . . . a you know.'
'A ghost?' I asked.
'Yeah, that.'
'No.'
'Oh.'
He drove on. I stared ahead determinedly. 'Have you seen Paul since, you know that date with De Silva?'
I turned to him. 'N-No . . . Why do you ask?'
'Well, I'm just making sure he's not giving you trouble again,' he said. I smiled at him. He was so sweet. So stupid . . .
'Like you could so anything if he was,' I smirked. And I proceeded to tell him about Paul's new leather exterior. Of course, leaving out the bit where I though he actually looked somewhat yummy. Adam seemed to find it funny, and asked how I thought leather would do him. I gave him a look, and, embarrassed, he apologized and kept driving.
'Well, home.'
'I guess.'
'Adam?'
'Yeah?'
I smiled. 'Thanks. For everything.'
~*~
'You know you've felt it before, Susie . . .'
Fingers running up and down my spine . . . I shivered. Coldness was caressing me horribly. All I could see was his eyes.
Ice.
'I know that there's something between us. It's dangerous, and burning. It tears you up inside. Clouds your heart with evil. But you know it's inside you, this feeling. You want me. I know you do. You want me more than you could ever imagine . . . So give in. Stop fighting this. Come and get what you want. What you deserve . . .'
Hands closed down on my arms, forcing me against him. I gasped, not being able to tear my eyes away from his. I couldn't breathe anymore. I didn't seem to need to. As if I were dead. A ghost.
Like him.
'Stay away from me,' I warned with a shuddering breath.
He smirked and moved his head down so it was right beside my ear. And then he whispered, 'I'll never stay away . . . I'll never leave . . .'
'Stop.'
'Never, Susie.' He kissed my neck gently, squeezing my back so it hurt me. I was arched into him. I moaned, but I couldn't fight him off me. This intimacy was killing me. It ached like no physical pain could.
'Stop,' I repeated, breathless. He did not. His hands moved to my hips and ran up my sides. I shivered uncontrollably. He gripped me ever closer into him. I couldn't get away. Trust me, I tried.
'Feel it Suze. As soon as you do, I'll stop,' he panted, still kissing me on my neck. My head felt back in a silent moan. I closed my eyes, and opened my mouth, my tongue rolling back slowly. Oh, it felt good, but so intensely evil. It froze me, his lips on my skin. Burnt like the coldest ice . . .
'No. Don't. Leave,' I begged.
He stopped, and glared into my eyes. 'Not until you admit it, Suze.' His lips were shaking in anger. My eyes were wide.
'I could never love you,' I said aggressively, but he cut me off by drawing me in for a deep, fiery kiss that I felt to the innermost corner of my soul. Felt the pain of, not the love of, I mean. I tried to remain unresponsive, but it was too hard. I kissed him back . . .
He smirked triumphantly against my lips. 'I knew it was there,' he said quickly, and resumed.
Horrified with myself, I pushed down on his arms and fell away from him. 'No!' I screamed, 'Nothing is there! Leave me alone! Stop doing this, please!' I squirmed away from him, but he fell on top of me. Again, I couldn't breathe.
'I won't, Suze. I'll haunt you until you confess that you love me. Jesse, he's just an excuse to hide this passion you have. You know it's there. You know it. Feel it,' he snarled. I was shaking so bad now. So cold . . . his touch was ice.
'I love Jesse,' I spat.
'Wrong answer,' he shrugged, and slugged me across the face.
Blue eyes . . .
~*~
'Shit!' I panted, rolling over on my bed. I felt my face, to discover I was sweating again.
Oh . . . This was torture. It was killing me.
. . . Why did I keep having these nightmares? WHY?!
I settled myself back on my pillow, and closed my eyes reluctantly. I didn't want to go back to sleep. I didn't want to return to him, where I couldn't escape . . .
That's when the screaming started.
I'm serious! It gave me a bloody heart attack! I literally fell out of my bed in shock. And that was no picnic. I was twisted in my covers and everything. As soon as I had managed to detach myself from my evil blankie, I stood up with a WAY peed off face.
A woman in her early forties was there. She had a faint white glow around her, which could only mean one thing.
Another client. A ghost . . .
Oh, happy day.
'What do you want?' I demanded.
She stopped screeching, and looked at me, not saying a word. Her dirty blond hair swayed sadly by her slightly skeletal face. It would have done her a bit of good to have had a meat pie when she was alive. She looked freaking anorexic.
I glowered. 'Well? Sorry, lady, I'm really not in the mood to be screamed at. I would actually scream back, but you know, people will actually HEAR me.' Ouch, I was mean . . . Her eyes welled up. I instantly felt bad.
I sighed. 'Look, I'm sorry. I'm just in a pooey mood. Tell me what it is you want.'
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She really was pretty, in a hippyish, gaunt way.
'Tell Red he didn't kill me,' she sniveled.
'Okay,' I said, 'and –'
Wait, backtrack?
'He DIDN'T kill you? Huh?' I said. I mean, usually it was the other way around, right?
'He blames himself!' she blubbered. 'He is tearing up inside.'
Tearing up inside . . .
"You know you feel something . . . It's inside you . . . you want me, Suze . . . "
NEVER.
'. . . He thinks it's his fault. Tell him it's not . . . '
"It's not like that . . . "
"Oh, Suze, I think it's EXACTLY like that . . . "
'Tell him, please . . . '
"Tell me . . . admit it."
'Thank you,' she said as she dematerialized with a glittering shower of blue.
'Wait!' I hissed. 'Who the hell is Red? And who the hell are you?'
Shit! She was gone . . . Oooh, I'm SUCH a bad mediator! Or shifter! Or human, or WHATEVER I am! Jesus . . . I should lose my mediating license, right?
~*~
'She was just dead then?'
Father Dom was studying my face carefully. His snowy hair gleamed in the office light. His white priest robes emphasized his "I'm a good boy" characteristic. He was pretty good-looking for an old guy. But he wasn't what I'd go for. Ha . . . Maybe my grandma?
(A/N: Sky . . . remember that little thing with Paul and Father D right about here. LMAO)
'Who?'
He rolled his eyes. 'This Tara person.'
I shrugged. 'Well, I didn't exactly stick around to have a cup of tea with the coroner,' I said sourly.
Reason I was sour?
That honour would go to my hands.
Yes, my fungus, peeling, oozing, red, scaly, lumpy, POISON-OAKY hands.
That's right. NO ONE told me about poison oak. Palm trees? Dandy. But not poison oak! Where's the justice in this world? Why to people enjoy my suffering? It's not fair, I tell you!
'Not, killed?' he asked.
'Oh,' I said. 'Well, I've got a theory that she came for the party, was killed somewhere else, and was dumped there. But that's just me. She had blood on her sweater, you see.' I smiled slightly. How observant of me, right?
'Nothing else?'
Well, padre obviously didn't think so. Joy . . .
'What? I'm not Adrian Monk,' I snapped. 'I don't pick up little clues and piece them together. I'm not some super detective. Gimme a break. I was there to have a good time. Yeah, in order for that to happen, Scott Turner got tossed into a swimming pool, but still –'
'Susannah. Please slow down?' he groaned, and readjusted his glassed. I blushed.
'All I know is she is dead,' I said shortly. What? I was SO not about to repeat myself all over again. I'll wear my voice out . . .
'Susannah,' he said seriously.
I scratched energetically at the rash on the back of both my hands. It was driving me CRAZY.
'Yeah?' I said distractedly.
'Aren't you going to tell me about Paul?' Father Dom wanted to know.
I slipped off the chair.
'Ow?' I called from beneath the desk. I resurfaced with an ugly look. Father Dom was astonished. 'Are you quite all right?' he asked, his eyebrows very, very high. I got back into my chair, blushing furiously.
'Me fine,' I said quickly. 'Isn't the weather great –'
'Kindly do not change the subject,' he said with light irritation. He stared at me fixedly.
'No, that's not a subject I'm at liberty to discuss,' I said squeakily. What? He caught me off guard.
'Susannah. There's something going on between you and this, well, ghost that I need to know. Jesse has told me – '
'Told you WHAT?!'
'-Very little,' he finished, disappointed. 'I thought that we had a more open relationship than this, Susannah. I must say that I'm not happy.'
'Well, I'm sorry. But it's a big secret. So shhhh.' I placed my finger to my lips.
He wasn't impressed.
'Susannah,' he said, in a slightly sterner voice. 'I really think that Jesse going to Spain, well, I don't know. You are being very secretive, and . . . difficult.'
'Joy,' I muttered, rubbing at my demented hands.
'Please, I'm being perfectly serious,' he said. 'I think that you are being foolish, not telling me. That way there is nothing I can do to help.'
'I don't need help,' I said. 'I'm fine on my own. Really.'
He gave me a look.
'Really,' I stressed. 'I can handle ghosts fine.'
~*~
'Don't you DARE TOUCH MY HAIR AGAIN!' I roared as I beat up this 200 pound ghost in the cemetery. He was this total Skid-Road guy with a BAD smell and dirty long hair. And he was strong. He groaned as I kicked him in the chest. He fell back and cracked a headstone in two. Poo Margaret Thatcher. No disrespect or anything, babe. But this is WAR.
'Mediators are evil,' he grunted, and totally punched my in the stomach, sending me flying against this big gravestone. I whined. He came up and whacked me on the side of the head.
'Bastard!' I snapped, and kicked him. But it wasn't enough . . .
'Mediators must die,' he declared, picking up the jagged headstone of the late Mrs Thatcher, and aiming it at my heart.
Can handle 'em just fine? Was I on CRACK?!
'No,' I said with wide eyes. The end . . .
When!
. . . Someone dived at him! Well, to them, dived at a floating headstone. Which was equally as weird. But yeah.
It was . . .
No, not Paul.
No, not Jesse.
But . . .
'Adam?' I shouted, 'Get the hell out of here!'
He grabbed the lethal headstone and took off out of site, robbing Fat Dude of his weapon. Jesus . . . Sometimes I regret telling him about this whole mediating thing. He's gonna get himself bloody killed soon.
'You NERD,' I yelled, and did this very cool fly kick. He landed on this spear-like headstone, and roared in agony.
'No! Vile, wicked Mediator! Burn!' he cried, and promptly dematerialized.
Now, that's what I'm talkin' bout.
I wiped my hands, and filled my lungs . . .
'ADAM! GET YOUR BUTT HERE!!!'
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Glue . . . I know . . .
REVIEW NOW!!!!!
MystAngel.
Oh, and Sky? Paul's MINE. Leather and all. So lust after him all you want, ha. Nerdy ner! Hehehe . . . Natasha . . . *insert evil laugh here.*
And Corcra? . . . uh, um . . . *not thinking of anything witty to say* . . . ha ha.
**************************************************************************** **********
Suze's POV.
'Help! Help, someone! I think she's DEAD!'
I choked on my breath. Dead? At a party? Immediately, I followed the sound of the scream. It seemed it be from quite a while away.
CeeCee rushed up to me, pursued by Adam. They both looked freaked. 'You heard that too?' they asked as I was running through the bushes. The person was still screaming. I burst through a tall hedge, and landed with catlike grace on the floor . . .
. . . Face to face with a very with face.
I stood up, very quickly.
'Thank God!' someone shrieked. This chick, who must have been from RLS, fell into me. She was clinging onto my arms with such force my circulation seemed non-existent anymore. Ow?
'She's dead! Call an ambulance! TARA'S DE-E-E-E-EAD!' she howled at me, tears dribbling from her sealed eyes. Her forehead was wrinkled in pain.
'Shhhh,' I soothed, and patted her awkwardly on the back. Compassion? Not my forte. Nah, I'm more gifted with the butt kicking stuff. I couldn't see why, if "Tara" was dead, an ambulance was needed so urgently. Okay, fair's fair. It could have turned out all right. But I doubted that. I looked over at the girl on the ground. Her eyes, they were literally grey. Like a dead fish. Sunken, lifeless . . .
CeeCee squatted, and placed two trembling fingers to the girl's wrist.
'She's got no pulse,' she stated in a low, strangled voice.
I felt sick. The girl wailed even louder. Adam stumbled over, and pried from fingers from my arms. She screamed louder, and crumbled to the ground, my hands clawed and her body tense. Adam settled next to her, holding her around the shoulders consolingly.
He was going to be a great dad . . .
It was funny how I could think like this in such a situation . . .
'CeeCee,' I said. My voice sounded high and demanding. 'Do you know how she died?'
She frowned. I could just make out her trembling hands. 'No . . . She's very pale, though. And she's got blood on her sweater,' she pointed to a few drops on the girl's chest. 'She could have been dumped here. Maybe she lost a lot of blood somewhere else, and they abandoned her out here . . . ' she trailed off.
Tara, her eyes . . . Grey . . . She was a pretty girl, too. Well, would have been when she was alive, anyway. Her hair was light brown, and seemed freshly washed.
'No,' I said. 'She came here for the party. She wasn't dumped. But she looks like she's been dead for ages . . .'
The girl shrieked into the night, struggling against Adam. He held her, still trying to make her stop crying. By now, a few people were filtering through the trees to check out what was going on. They froze when they saw the body.
No . . . Tara. She was a girl . . . Don't call her that . . .
A tall RLS guy gasped when he saw Tara. He looked over at the crying girl, and his face went blank. He ran over to her.
'Emily! Em, come on, come with me . . . ' he stood her up, thanking Adam briefly, and guided her away.
I stared at everyone. All they were doing was looking. Like it was something interesting. That was SICK.
'A girl is dead!' I yelled at them, my voice shuddering. 'Has any of you had the freakin' sense to 911?'
They all stared at me, looking very stiff and expressionless. Then, a guy with blond hair slowly withdrew a little cell phone from his pocket. All eyes were on him as he dialed.
'Hello?'
I saw his lips moving, but I didn't hear him. CeeCee's shaking was getting worse, and Adam just wasn't moving at all.
'Yeah,' the blond dude finished off. 'Be here in five. Thanks.'
~*~
Adam drove us home. Dopey, I think, got Scott or someone to give him a ride, so he could sneak in while no one was looking. That's what I heard, any way.
We sat in silence in Adam's car. I was in the back seat with CeeCee. She wasn't moving much. I think she was in shock at seeing a real dead body. I suppose it was very traumatic for her. I was a little shaken up, but no biggie for me. But still . . .
'Did you see her eyes?'
CeeCee had broken the silence. It seemed like a crime when she did it, like she'd shattered something sacred.
'Yeah,' I replied.
Silence.
It continued until we dropped CeeCee off at her house. Adam and I watched her walk up to her front door. Then he called me into the front seat.
'So, Suze,' he said awkwardly, 'Did she come back? As a . . . a you know.'
'A ghost?' I asked.
'Yeah, that.'
'No.'
'Oh.'
He drove on. I stared ahead determinedly. 'Have you seen Paul since, you know that date with De Silva?'
I turned to him. 'N-No . . . Why do you ask?'
'Well, I'm just making sure he's not giving you trouble again,' he said. I smiled at him. He was so sweet. So stupid . . .
'Like you could so anything if he was,' I smirked. And I proceeded to tell him about Paul's new leather exterior. Of course, leaving out the bit where I though he actually looked somewhat yummy. Adam seemed to find it funny, and asked how I thought leather would do him. I gave him a look, and, embarrassed, he apologized and kept driving.
'Well, home.'
'I guess.'
'Adam?'
'Yeah?'
I smiled. 'Thanks. For everything.'
~*~
'You know you've felt it before, Susie . . .'
Fingers running up and down my spine . . . I shivered. Coldness was caressing me horribly. All I could see was his eyes.
Ice.
'I know that there's something between us. It's dangerous, and burning. It tears you up inside. Clouds your heart with evil. But you know it's inside you, this feeling. You want me. I know you do. You want me more than you could ever imagine . . . So give in. Stop fighting this. Come and get what you want. What you deserve . . .'
Hands closed down on my arms, forcing me against him. I gasped, not being able to tear my eyes away from his. I couldn't breathe anymore. I didn't seem to need to. As if I were dead. A ghost.
Like him.
'Stay away from me,' I warned with a shuddering breath.
He smirked and moved his head down so it was right beside my ear. And then he whispered, 'I'll never stay away . . . I'll never leave . . .'
'Stop.'
'Never, Susie.' He kissed my neck gently, squeezing my back so it hurt me. I was arched into him. I moaned, but I couldn't fight him off me. This intimacy was killing me. It ached like no physical pain could.
'Stop,' I repeated, breathless. He did not. His hands moved to my hips and ran up my sides. I shivered uncontrollably. He gripped me ever closer into him. I couldn't get away. Trust me, I tried.
'Feel it Suze. As soon as you do, I'll stop,' he panted, still kissing me on my neck. My head felt back in a silent moan. I closed my eyes, and opened my mouth, my tongue rolling back slowly. Oh, it felt good, but so intensely evil. It froze me, his lips on my skin. Burnt like the coldest ice . . .
'No. Don't. Leave,' I begged.
He stopped, and glared into my eyes. 'Not until you admit it, Suze.' His lips were shaking in anger. My eyes were wide.
'I could never love you,' I said aggressively, but he cut me off by drawing me in for a deep, fiery kiss that I felt to the innermost corner of my soul. Felt the pain of, not the love of, I mean. I tried to remain unresponsive, but it was too hard. I kissed him back . . .
He smirked triumphantly against my lips. 'I knew it was there,' he said quickly, and resumed.
Horrified with myself, I pushed down on his arms and fell away from him. 'No!' I screamed, 'Nothing is there! Leave me alone! Stop doing this, please!' I squirmed away from him, but he fell on top of me. Again, I couldn't breathe.
'I won't, Suze. I'll haunt you until you confess that you love me. Jesse, he's just an excuse to hide this passion you have. You know it's there. You know it. Feel it,' he snarled. I was shaking so bad now. So cold . . . his touch was ice.
'I love Jesse,' I spat.
'Wrong answer,' he shrugged, and slugged me across the face.
Blue eyes . . .
~*~
'Shit!' I panted, rolling over on my bed. I felt my face, to discover I was sweating again.
Oh . . . This was torture. It was killing me.
. . . Why did I keep having these nightmares? WHY?!
I settled myself back on my pillow, and closed my eyes reluctantly. I didn't want to go back to sleep. I didn't want to return to him, where I couldn't escape . . .
That's when the screaming started.
I'm serious! It gave me a bloody heart attack! I literally fell out of my bed in shock. And that was no picnic. I was twisted in my covers and everything. As soon as I had managed to detach myself from my evil blankie, I stood up with a WAY peed off face.
A woman in her early forties was there. She had a faint white glow around her, which could only mean one thing.
Another client. A ghost . . .
Oh, happy day.
'What do you want?' I demanded.
She stopped screeching, and looked at me, not saying a word. Her dirty blond hair swayed sadly by her slightly skeletal face. It would have done her a bit of good to have had a meat pie when she was alive. She looked freaking anorexic.
I glowered. 'Well? Sorry, lady, I'm really not in the mood to be screamed at. I would actually scream back, but you know, people will actually HEAR me.' Ouch, I was mean . . . Her eyes welled up. I instantly felt bad.
I sighed. 'Look, I'm sorry. I'm just in a pooey mood. Tell me what it is you want.'
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She really was pretty, in a hippyish, gaunt way.
'Tell Red he didn't kill me,' she sniveled.
'Okay,' I said, 'and –'
Wait, backtrack?
'He DIDN'T kill you? Huh?' I said. I mean, usually it was the other way around, right?
'He blames himself!' she blubbered. 'He is tearing up inside.'
Tearing up inside . . .
"You know you feel something . . . It's inside you . . . you want me, Suze . . . "
NEVER.
'. . . He thinks it's his fault. Tell him it's not . . . '
"It's not like that . . . "
"Oh, Suze, I think it's EXACTLY like that . . . "
'Tell him, please . . . '
"Tell me . . . admit it."
'Thank you,' she said as she dematerialized with a glittering shower of blue.
'Wait!' I hissed. 'Who the hell is Red? And who the hell are you?'
Shit! She was gone . . . Oooh, I'm SUCH a bad mediator! Or shifter! Or human, or WHATEVER I am! Jesus . . . I should lose my mediating license, right?
~*~
'She was just dead then?'
Father Dom was studying my face carefully. His snowy hair gleamed in the office light. His white priest robes emphasized his "I'm a good boy" characteristic. He was pretty good-looking for an old guy. But he wasn't what I'd go for. Ha . . . Maybe my grandma?
(A/N: Sky . . . remember that little thing with Paul and Father D right about here. LMAO)
'Who?'
He rolled his eyes. 'This Tara person.'
I shrugged. 'Well, I didn't exactly stick around to have a cup of tea with the coroner,' I said sourly.
Reason I was sour?
That honour would go to my hands.
Yes, my fungus, peeling, oozing, red, scaly, lumpy, POISON-OAKY hands.
That's right. NO ONE told me about poison oak. Palm trees? Dandy. But not poison oak! Where's the justice in this world? Why to people enjoy my suffering? It's not fair, I tell you!
'Not, killed?' he asked.
'Oh,' I said. 'Well, I've got a theory that she came for the party, was killed somewhere else, and was dumped there. But that's just me. She had blood on her sweater, you see.' I smiled slightly. How observant of me, right?
'Nothing else?'
Well, padre obviously didn't think so. Joy . . .
'What? I'm not Adrian Monk,' I snapped. 'I don't pick up little clues and piece them together. I'm not some super detective. Gimme a break. I was there to have a good time. Yeah, in order for that to happen, Scott Turner got tossed into a swimming pool, but still –'
'Susannah. Please slow down?' he groaned, and readjusted his glassed. I blushed.
'All I know is she is dead,' I said shortly. What? I was SO not about to repeat myself all over again. I'll wear my voice out . . .
'Susannah,' he said seriously.
I scratched energetically at the rash on the back of both my hands. It was driving me CRAZY.
'Yeah?' I said distractedly.
'Aren't you going to tell me about Paul?' Father Dom wanted to know.
I slipped off the chair.
'Ow?' I called from beneath the desk. I resurfaced with an ugly look. Father Dom was astonished. 'Are you quite all right?' he asked, his eyebrows very, very high. I got back into my chair, blushing furiously.
'Me fine,' I said quickly. 'Isn't the weather great –'
'Kindly do not change the subject,' he said with light irritation. He stared at me fixedly.
'No, that's not a subject I'm at liberty to discuss,' I said squeakily. What? He caught me off guard.
'Susannah. There's something going on between you and this, well, ghost that I need to know. Jesse has told me – '
'Told you WHAT?!'
'-Very little,' he finished, disappointed. 'I thought that we had a more open relationship than this, Susannah. I must say that I'm not happy.'
'Well, I'm sorry. But it's a big secret. So shhhh.' I placed my finger to my lips.
He wasn't impressed.
'Susannah,' he said, in a slightly sterner voice. 'I really think that Jesse going to Spain, well, I don't know. You are being very secretive, and . . . difficult.'
'Joy,' I muttered, rubbing at my demented hands.
'Please, I'm being perfectly serious,' he said. 'I think that you are being foolish, not telling me. That way there is nothing I can do to help.'
'I don't need help,' I said. 'I'm fine on my own. Really.'
He gave me a look.
'Really,' I stressed. 'I can handle ghosts fine.'
~*~
'Don't you DARE TOUCH MY HAIR AGAIN!' I roared as I beat up this 200 pound ghost in the cemetery. He was this total Skid-Road guy with a BAD smell and dirty long hair. And he was strong. He groaned as I kicked him in the chest. He fell back and cracked a headstone in two. Poo Margaret Thatcher. No disrespect or anything, babe. But this is WAR.
'Mediators are evil,' he grunted, and totally punched my in the stomach, sending me flying against this big gravestone. I whined. He came up and whacked me on the side of the head.
'Bastard!' I snapped, and kicked him. But it wasn't enough . . .
'Mediators must die,' he declared, picking up the jagged headstone of the late Mrs Thatcher, and aiming it at my heart.
Can handle 'em just fine? Was I on CRACK?!
'No,' I said with wide eyes. The end . . .
When!
. . . Someone dived at him! Well, to them, dived at a floating headstone. Which was equally as weird. But yeah.
It was . . .
No, not Paul.
No, not Jesse.
But . . .
'Adam?' I shouted, 'Get the hell out of here!'
He grabbed the lethal headstone and took off out of site, robbing Fat Dude of his weapon. Jesus . . . Sometimes I regret telling him about this whole mediating thing. He's gonna get himself bloody killed soon.
'You NERD,' I yelled, and did this very cool fly kick. He landed on this spear-like headstone, and roared in agony.
'No! Vile, wicked Mediator! Burn!' he cried, and promptly dematerialized.
Now, that's what I'm talkin' bout.
I wiped my hands, and filled my lungs . . .
'ADAM! GET YOUR BUTT HERE!!!'
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Glue . . . I know . . .
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MystAngel.