Black isn't white, up isn't down, and I don't own Invader Zim or the main characters Dib, Gaz or Professor Membrane. The honor of creating them belongs to Jhonen Vasquez.

Part Two

Soon after Dib returned to his seat on the sofa, the first neighbours and relatives began trickling in to pay their respects, joined by the hover screens of representatives of the worldwide scientific community.

Dib soon realized his father was spending more time by far with the latter, leaving to him the task of receiving the relatives. Dib sighed, wishing that his father would sit down with him, even for just a little while. It would almost be like his mother was still in hospital; this way, he could pretend that she would be rejoining the family at any minute. Plus it wouldn't feel like his father was leaving him too.

From Dib's point of view, the visitors were coming in two varieties. Whenever a visitor told him not to cry, he immediately knew what they'd be saying next... some variation on how he now had to take care of his little sister. He knew his line, which was to assure them that he would... even though being only one year older, and a first grader at that, Dib wasn't sure how exactly he was supposed to accomplish this. He felt as though they were dressing him up in his father's clothes and expecting him to say with a straight face that the garments fit him perfectly.

Why, when Dib so much as reminded Gaz it was mealtime when his father told him to, Gaz totally ignored him... when he was lucky. More often she snapped at him to quit bossing her around; if Dib persisted, she exploded in a fury which left him cut and bruised.

The other visitors really talked with him, asked him how Grade One was going, and told him how proud his mother had been of him. Some actually remembered to ask, their eyes twinkling, if he'd seen any ghosts lately. At this point Dib didn't even care if they were just humoring him. At least these cool relatives weren't treating him like he'd aged ten years overnight, or expecting him to lead someone who was about to follow nobody.

Quite a few visitors were trying to cuddle Gaz, cooing that the poor little thing was so grief-stricken that she had completely withdrawn into herself, what a shame. Fighting off panic, Dib tried to prevent them from bothering her too much, knowing all too well what could result if she lost her game. When he tried honesty as a tactic, that Gaz simply played video games like that all the time and could get pretty mad when she lost, Dib just got shot dirty looks for his trouble, so he settled for merely hoping nothing disastrous would happen until he could think of a more palatable reason for them not to disturb Gaz's gameplaying.

Meanwhile, Gaz was thinking, as she pressed the buttons steadily, If these stupid idiots make me lose my game it'll be completely Dib's fault for not making them shut up.

Though she could by now play far better than most teenagers, Gaz had still to actually finish a game. Now up to her highest level yet, but down to her final avatar, she concentrated fiercely; anyone causing her to lose her game now would be in serious trouble indeed. If she held the power of life and death over real life people, she should certainly be able to finish a video game! Closer to the next level, closer, c l o s e r ... gone! GAME OVER!

Grinding her teeth in fury, Gaz barely managed to restrain herself from hurling the GameSlave with all the force she could muster into the wall. After breaking her first ever GameSlave that same way, she'd screamed nonstop for several hours until she got its replacement. Burning once again with rage at losing her game, Gaz now looked around for a quick means of regaining her feeling of control.

With their mother now unlikely to intervene, Dib offered a more perfectly convenient target than ever for her spite. However, Gaz couldn't very well give him the Dooming he so richly deserved with all these people around... until all these people actually gave Gaz an idea.

She reached behind the droning, babbling visitors on the sofa to carefully slide her hand behind Dib's head. Timing her own scream to cover his, she yanked his hair scythe viciously. "OW quit it Gaz!" Dib blurted; a split second later, Gaz screamed again.

All conversation in the room hushed as everyone in the room glared, horrified and openmouthed, at Dib.

Dib gaped helplessly at the assemblage, at everyone physically present as well as at the images on the hover screens. He knew better than to even try defending himself in a case like this. If he told the truth about what had happened here, he'd surely be called a liar and worse. Dib frantically scanned the room for someone looking at him with something other than condemnation. He found nothing else but.

"Did you see what he did to her? To his little sister?" "With his mother still right there? It's a wonder she isn't turning over..." "Yes, I saw it too. He raised his fist and slugged her!" "Shame on him... Shame!"

Dib fought back an urge to beat his head against the wall in his frustration. WHAT was it WITH people? In a room literally wall to wall with witnesses, NOT ONE of them had seen what had actually happened. So strongly did everyone believe little girls to be always sweet and harmless that even when they were in the same room with one who was anything but, they continued to believe it!

Unwilling to look anybody in the eye, Dib dropped his gaze to the floor. Suddenly his father was at his side, tugging on his son's shoulder with one hand and jerking his other thumb in the direction of the coat room. Once there, he blocked the door with Dib inside. "Please, Dad," Dib faltered, trying to get his side of the story out before the Lecture, "please, listen, Gaz pulled my hair and - "

But listening to his own son had never been one of the Professor's strong points. "What is WRONG with you, acting like that with your mother - with your mother so sick?" His father's denial frightened Dib even more. "What way is that to treat your little sister? Answer me! You're older than she is so it's your duty to PROTECT her, not PICK on her! Do you understand?"

The mounting injustice hurt far worse than the pain in his scalp, but through long experience Dib had figured out the fastest way to end these harangues. "Yes, Dad, she's only my little sister. Yes, Dad, I'm sorry I was so bad. Yes, Dad, she's just a little girl. Yes Dad, I'm ashamed of myself." Yes Dad I'm evil and worthless, yes Dad this, yes Dad that.

"That's better." The forced cheerfulness was back again. Now get back out there and start acting more like a big brother."

Dib forced himself to re-enter the parlor through a gauntlet of indignant stares. Gaz, already deep into another game, took a moment to say something to him. "Ha, ha, Di- ib," she taunted.

Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, Dib desperately tried not to cry, SCREAM, EXPLODE... He huddled on the sofa, burning with silent rage until he was sure everyone could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

The Funeral Director now entered the room, vaguely aware that he had missed a scene of some sort. When he asked how the children were doing, the Professor briskly assured him that "The situation is under control!" but offered little else.

"Would your children like to come see me in my office for a minute? One at a time would work better, but if they'd prefer to come in together, that's fine too."When Gaz saw Dib's eagerness to go somewhere, anywhere, she lost whatever microscopic interest she may have had in going. Well if Gaz wasn't going, Dib wasn't going either because he had to watch her, the Professor declared. To that, the Funeral Director quietly suggested that this was a perfect time for the little girl to have her Daddy sit next to her for a little while. Nobody could very well object to that, and off Dib went with the Funeral Director to his office.

End of Part Two