Disclaimer: Possession is nine-tenths of the law. I don't want to break any of those laws. So I'm going to tell you right now, that I don't own this. Simple isn't it?
Rating: PG or a PG-13. Or maybe a PG-11. Or a PG-10! Or a PG-9! Or maybe a-- (blushes.) Oh. Sorry. I'll shut up now.
Summary: Lia is transported, Astrea travels with Arthur, and Jarod is taught something valuable by an unlikely teacher.
!!!Author's note!!!: Yes, just to satisfy the curiosity that will come later on, they really do eat all the things that Arthur ordered for breakfast in England. I lived there for a year or two. Did you know that their version of bacon is a slab of ham? I swear, it's like a third-world country.
Feedback: (Vader is at the moment
in his master's palace chamber, telling the emperor what was told to him by
the now deceased stormtrooper)
Emperor: So you believe that this creature your subordinate
spoke of is a powerful Jedi? If so they could be a powerful asset to us…
Vader: Yes sir, but…aren't we supposed to be looking for Skywalker?
Emperor: Oh, who cares about him? Now, I want you to find this creature. I have brought in my loyal and trusted servant to aid you.
(The door opens and a person walks in, covered from head to toe in a long black robe.)
Vader: (pouting) But I'm supposed to be your loyal and trusted servant!
Emperor: Oh come on. You're a walking blender for Christ's sake! You can be loyal and trusted servant #2 if it pleases you.
Vader: (folding his arms) Humph.
Quote:
"A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on."
------Sir Winston Churchill
**********************************ShadowElfBard************************************
12:47 AM, Wednesday
Indeterminable Location
On Jet
(Lia)
I've heard your anguish, I've heard your hearts cry out
We are tired, we are weary, but we aren't worn out
Set down your chains, until only faith remains
Set down your chains
And lend your voices only to sounds of freedom
No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from
Fill your lives with love and bravery
And we shall lead a life uncommon-
"Will you turn that thing down? Really, how loud does it have to be for you to hear it? Are you deaf as well as mute?"
I turn and glare at Mr. Cox, but reluctantly turn down the volume on my CD player a notch or two. Then I fold my arms and stare out the window. I know I'm acting very childish right now, but I can't help it. It's the only stress reliever I have at the moment. This has to be the weirdest kidnapping in history. When I awoke a few hours ago, I'd been sitting in a comfortable reclining vinyl covered seat, with lots of legroom by a large window that clearly let me see the night sky. Cox had been in the seat next to me, and two sets of the strange bodyguards in black suits had been seated behind and in front of us.
After I'd awoke, Cox had smiled warmly and told me that we still had three or four hours to go, and that I could rest, or find something to do in my backpack. Yes, you heard me right. This weirdo had not only kidnapped me and brought me on a luxurious jet; he'd grabbed my backpack for me as well. I'd also noticed that he'd decided to take the cuffs off of my hands. What a kind abductor.
So I've been reading, writing poetry, and listening to music for the past few hours. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what is going on, but unfortunately I've come up with nothing so far. I have come to think that perhaps my search for a sister has taken a wrong turn.
I yawn and look around the jet, trying to find something to interest me. But all I can see are scary bodyguards and comfy seats. Humph. They should have at least put on an in-flight movie or something. This is getting downright boring.
Mr. Cox sees me squirming in my seat and sighs. "Will you please sit still? We'll be there soon enough."
I stick out my chin crossly. Why the hell am I even here? What use is there in kidnapping me? I have no parents, so you can't get a ransom. Are you a stupid kidnapper or something? Is this your first time?
He frowns. "You should keep quiet."
Keep quiet?! I am quiet! I'm always quiet! I can't be anything but quiet! Haven't you realized that?!
We both just stare each other down for a few moments, both of us seething with silent anger. Then someone from the cockpit walks over cheerily.
"Sir we'll be on the ground in a few minutes. Would you like anything to--"
We both snap our heads around and glare at him, and he gulps, nervously backs up, and then hurries away.
Then we slowly look at each other once more, each of us fuming in irritation at the others words and actions.
Finally Mr. Cox speaks. "You know, I found you much more tolerable on the bus ride."
You weren't trying to kidnap me then.
He opens his mouth to respond and then shuts it and shakes his head petulantly. "Never mind."
I tightly fold my arms once more and slouch back into the seat, lowering my head as much as I can while I frown. The quicker we get to wherever it is we're going, the better. I doubt that anything can be worse than being stuck where I am right now.
I hope we get there soon.
7:52 AM, Wednesday
In Maryland Halfway To Delaware
In A Car
(Astrea)
"I spy, with my little eye, something white."
"A cloud."
"By golly you've done it again! How are you able to know these things so easily?"
I turn away from the window I was looking out of and give Arthur a faint smile. "Just lucky I guess."
Arthur returns my kind expression and goes back to concentrating on the road. I suppose I was lucky that Arthur had brought his car with him from England. It's sort of ugly; a small almost beetle shaped old Ford with white paint that's slowly but surely chipping off. But he seems to adore it. He told me that there would never be a time when things get so bad that he'll have to sell it. It is supposedly his favorite car. But, be it his favorite or not, it still must be hard for him to drive on the right side of the road like this while the drivers seat is on the right. But I have to give him credit; I've only had to save us from driving into a tree or another car twice.
The trip so far has been uneventful. Arthur has tried to dazzle me with stories of English espionage during WWII, and has taught me how to play 'fifty questions' and 'I spy'. Both games I've found can easily be won with pretender skills, and I'm sad to report that I haven't had much of a challenge yet. Oh well.
Jarod contacted me before we left, and told me that he'd meet me at about one thirty in Delaware, because he'd be taking a plane. He'd sounded strangely suspicious when I'd talked to him, like he was trying to hide something, but that wouldn't make sense. What could he possibly have to hide from me?
"Are you hungry?" Arthur asks me kindly. "We left before breakfast you know. Maybe we should stop somewhere to eat."
I think on the proposition for a moment. Breakfast does sound good… "All right." I say, agreeing with his idea. "Let's stop somewhere."
"Splendid!" He exclaims happily.
Thirteen minutes later…
"Denny's? Who's Denny?"
Arthur frowns at my question. "I'm not sure. I've never heard of this restaurant, but that kind gentleman at the gas station told me that it was a good place to get breakfast."
I stare up at the sign once more, still thoroughly confused at the title of the restaurant, but a growl from my stomach causes me to look to more important things.
We enter the door, and I self-consciously pull down the black beanie that is covering my ears some more. There are lots of people here, mothers, children, fathers, singles, elderly, and waitresses and waiters. At least its warmer in here though. Maybe I'll be able to take off my sweater.
Arthur scans the room, its contents and people with a smile, pleased it seems at the sight of the food being served. I have to agree with him on the food. From what I smell of it, it will be delicious.
"Good morning folks! Is it just the two of you?" a young woman with brown hair asks, holding out menus that we each take in turn.
I nod. "Yes, we'll be dining alone."
She keeps a wide southern smile on her face. "All right then, just follow me and we'll get you both situated."
She shows us to a green backed booth, fairly secluded in the corner of the room, but still in plain visible sight for any who happened to look in this direction. The woman asks us for our drink orders, and I order water while Arthur requests a cup of tea. The woman walks off jovially, and I begin scanning my menu for a good meal.
There is a lot to choose from. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, biscuit…half of this stuff I haven't even seen before. There are even sandwiches… Wait, sandwiches?
"Arthur?"
"Hmm?" he asks half-interestedly from behind his own menu.
"There are lunch and dinner items on this menu. Does that imply that they serve those things as well for breakfast?"
He brings his head up now, a puzzled look shown clearly on his face. "I would think so. We never served dinner of lunch for breakfast in England... but it is possible that American restaurants are different. You'll just have to check with the waitress I suppose."
"Hmm… all right I guess."
She returns a few moments later with our drinks and once again smiles broadly, though I am certain that the act of doing so is almost painful to her. She must not be a morning person.
"Are you all ready to order?" she asks, though it seems she's already assumed we are because she brings out her pad of paper and pen and looks expectantly at us.
Arthur gives her a polite nod. "Yes please I would like a slice of ham, fried eggs, a biscuit, and would you mind adding some tomato slices on the side?"
The waitress leaves her mouth open slightly, while her eyebrow remains raised. She gives a hesitant nod. "Tomato slices… yeah, I guess we could do that."
"What about lard?"
She blinks, incredulous. "What about lard?"
"Could you put some in with my eggs? "
For a moment I'm not entirely sure that she won't throw-up. Then she seems to compose herself. "Um, I'm sorry sir but we don't put…lard in with customers eggs."
Arthur's face droops. "Oh. All right then, thank you anyhow."
"Uh, huh." She shakes her head slightly and then puts on another phony smile for me. "And what would you like?"
"One question first, are you able to order these lunch and dinner items for breakfast?" I inquire calmly and seriously.
"Yeah." She says slowly. "You've never been to a Denny's before?"
"No."
"Oh." For a few seconds she doesn't seem sure how to respond. "So, what did you want?"
I scan over the menu, extremely pleased at the fortuitous turn of events. Then a picture catches my eye, and my mouth begins to salivate. I have made my decision.
"I'd like this please." I tell her, pointing to the beautiful picture.
"That's a picture of a steak."
I nod. "Yes, that's what I would like."
She writes it down and takes out menu's away, and right before she leaves I hear her mutter, "I better get a big tip for this."
I purse my lips. "Hey Arthur?"
"Yes?"
"What's a tip?"
~~~~~
After fifteen agonizingly long minutes of waiting, I spot the waitress leisurely making her way towards us, holding up the faded red trays with her hands. The smell of what I ordered causes me to grip the table as I try to suppress the primal urge to knock the woman down and just snatch the plates from her. Nevertheless, I am unable to sit still as she comes closer. I stand up from the booth, looking hungrily at the appetizing meals that she still holds from me.
Arthur, baffled at my reaction, stands up as well, thinking perhaps that this is American custom.
The waitress, having finally stopped at our table, sets the food down through half-opened eyes, and then seems to notice that Arthur and I are both standing at attention. She looks from me, my mouth open as I salivate, and then to Arthur, who is confusedly watching the rest of the patrons in the room to see if he is acting accordingly.
She finally sighs. "I'm not even going to ask."
After the waitress walks away, I waste no time in sitting back in my seat and immediately reaching for the steak. Arthur takes a seat as well, relieved that he can sit down and blend in with the rest of the people in the room, and carefully sets up his silverware in the proper order.
I however, miss the shining glint of the silverware, obviously intended for use, and after lifting up the steak, my claws embedded in the sides of it like grappling hooks, bite down and rip off piece after piece by jerking my head like a dog. Then I chew and swallow the meat, growling softly in content. Out of the corner of my eye I see someone nearing us, and I immediately stop and put the steak down on my plate, covering it slightly with my hands, and lower my head and glare at the man who is just walking by our table, following his every movement with my eyes. I continue to stay rigid and tense until he is out of sight, and then begin my eating process all over again. I have my eyes closed in pleasure, when I notice that our table has gone abruptly silent. I look over at Arthur, and see something that immediately makes me go red with shame.
He's sitting up straight, the napkin carefully tucked in his shirt collar and used as a bib of sorts. He has his fork raised, some bit of fried egg and tomato stuck on the end, and he wears a complete look of shock. His eyes are large and round, his mouth partially open, and he's blinking every few seconds, not noticing that the juice from the tomato is dripping onto his plate.
I carefully place down what little is left of the steak onto my own platter, and after slowly wiping off the sauce from my fingers with a napkin, reach for a fork and knife and begin slicing up the meat, my eyes downcast as my face remains hot with embarrassment.
Arthur begins eating again as well, if a bit tentatively, and we consume the rest of our breakfast in silence.
8:29 AM, Wednesday
Blue Cove, Delaware
The Centre
Renewal Wing
(Lia)
I wake up groggily and wish that I had the ability to groan. Mr. Cox, kind man that he is, had given me yet another injection before we'd landed, saying that it was best that I didn't know where we were. What is it with that guy and syringes? Can we say, "Obsessed"?
I open my eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright lighting, and then widen them as I notice what a weird room I'm in. I'm strapped down to what looks like an operating table of sorts, though it could very well be just a recovery bed. I never really watched medical shows. But I do know that this place must have one hell of a janitor. The room is so sterile and white and clean that for a moment, I'm afraid of going blind.
I scan over the area once more, and cringe as I see all of the medical equipment hanging lifelessly on walls, or lying patiently on counters. I don't like doctor's offices. Never have, and never will. It's almost a phobia of mine. I suppose it has to do with the fact that I spent a lot of time there when I was younger because of my muteness. They were always trying to find out why I couldn't speak, and if it was a physical thing, or a mental handicap. I don't think that they ever found out which. If they did, they never told me. But, the point is, that doctor's offices are not at the top on my list of fun places to go.
I keep my eyes clenched tightly shut as I try to take some calming breaths. Now is not the time to panic. Not when I'm strapped to a bed in a medical office, being held captive by some lunatic, surrounded by very sharp and shiny metal objects that could slice and dice me in a hundred different ways… Okay, this calming thing has just turned and gone in a completely different direction.
I sigh and lie still, ready to wait for the inevitable.
Strangely enough, it comes ten seconds later.
"You're awake Lia?" Mr. Cox asks cheerfully, as though he can't see that I'm strapped down with metal bands to a bed.
My narrowed eyes and intense glower seem to answer his question.
He chuckles, the sound hollow and taunting. "Not too happy about your arrangements? Well, I don't blame you. But Dr. Raines usually prefers to work within his 'element' so to speak."
Dr. Raines? Oh great, now my kidnapper has imaginary friends. Could life possibly get any worse?
As the door behind Mr. Cox opens, and the eerie sound of squeaking wheels announces the presence of another, I realize with a cold certainty that it can…and it has.
The man that enters is about the same height as Mr. Cox, though from my low and quite vulnerable position on the bed, he appears to be a giant. He's bald, that's the one thing I notice first, and he's dragging an oxygen tank behind him. Then I see his eyes, and my every nerve and feeling screams as I feel a sharp, icy pain. Terrified, I try to shirk from his gaze, and unconsciously begin squirming and wriggling in my bonds, a deep and primal force swelling up inside of me and shouting over and over again to flee as swiftly as possible. After the man has fully entered, two silent guards of seemingly impenetrable steel enter and stand resolutely behind him, hands clasped out in front.
Mr. Cox shares a look with Dr. Raines, both had noticed my reaction. Then Cox clears his throat.
"Lia, as you no doubt have guessed, this is Dr. Raines."
I can do nothing but involuntarily tremble and shake slightly.
Raines scans over my quivering form, and stops when he reaches my eyes. My face scrunches up tighter and my heart races and threatens to burst completely free from my chest. Then he brings his attention back to Mr. Cox.
He then gives a grudging nod. "She looks a lot like her. But I still want proof."
"A blood analysis should give you all the proof you need." Cox replies as smoothly as a politician. "That is of course, if you have samples from Elf 17?"
Raines lips curve into a sneer. "Do you think me stupid Mr. Cox? Of course I have samples. I have blood samples from every project I've done. The analysis will indeed provide me with the necessary verification." He then walks over to me slowly, and with every step he takes I try more and more to fold in on myself. When he finally reaches me my body is so taut and tight, that I resemble a stone.
Dr. Raines raises a curled finger to his lips, pondering over something. "So she truly is mute?"
"As far as I can tell. Unless of course, this is all a very elaborate ruse."
Raines looks straight at him. "Do you have reason to believe so?"
"No." Cox replies, shaking his head slowly. "She would have no reason to pretend so."
"Speaking of pretends, has she shown any…promise, in that area?"
"Not of yet, no."
Raines give a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgment and looks down to scrutinize over me once more.
At this point, all color has been drained from my skin, my face is nearly covered in sweat, and I'm shivering. My stomach has seemed to clench and my breathing is ragged.
Dr. Raines begins moving his hand towards my forehead, suspicious of how healthy I am at the moment. But before he is an inch away from touching me, my eyes go so large that I feel the muscles straining. My pulse raises another notch and pure and complete terror is the only recognizable expression on my ashen colored face.
He draws his hand away, and my intense reactions are somewhat minimized, but not fully enough that I'm able to stop shaking.
Raines practically whirls on Mr. Cox. "This girl looks like she could pass out at any moment. Were you not aware that she was sick?"
Cox is baffled. "She was perfectly fine when she awoke, and all through the plan ride. I have no idea what could have brought this up. "
For a moment it looks as though Dr. Raines is going to growl at him. Then he appears to judge the words as truthful. "Fine. But let's get this over with as quick as possible. Whatever ideas you'd wished to present to me, I doubt that any of them have to do with her dying."
"No, nothing like that." Mr. Cox replies with a nervous laugh, looking over at me through the corner of his eye.
Raines curls his lip. "Well then what is it? "
"Ah yes, to business. Well, you can no doubt see the advantages to having the pretender's sister with us, and I'd been thinking of using Lia here as a stone of sorts."
"A stone?" Raines asks raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, you know, 'two birds with one stone'. If we could get a hint of sorts to the pretender that she has a sister, and that she's here at the Centre, she'd no doubt come to rescue her. But who knows best how to get in and out of the Centre?"
"Jarod." Raines gives a small smile then, liking where this was going.
Cox returns the grin. "Yes, Jarod. We set up a trap, and catch within it both master pretenders. Two birds, one stone."
Dr. Raines nods. "And what happens to your 'Lia' here afterwards?"
He shrugs. "Well, it depends on whether or not she has skills as a pretender. If she does, put her to work in the sim labs, if she doesn't, you can either kill her or use her in one of your experimentations or projects. I know you're always in need of more…subjects."
"Yes, I rather like that." Then Raines eyes fill with suspicion. "And the Triumvirate will be fine with this?"
Mr. Cox pauses. "Well I can't very well keep them out of it. My loyalties are to them first. But…" his smile returns, "You were after all, the Triumvirates private watchdog for a few years. I think that as long as certain things were taken into consideration, we might not have to involve them at all until you've succeeded."
Raines doesn't miss the casual, 'consideration' comment. "What would I have to consider?" he rasps.
Cox's grin becomes almost feral. "Perhaps sharing some credit with me? After all, it was my idea and keen eyesight that spotted the girl."
"And if I choose not to?"
"The Triumvirate still has not forgotten the rather embarrassing incident where you and the director's son lost two valuable projects. I dare say that if something were to happen again, you'd receive more than a demotion."
Raines clenches his fists in anger but then realizes that he's boxed in. "Fine." He concedes grudgingly. "I don't see giving you half of the credit as any problem."
"Good. Then it's all settled. You'll take the girl's blood, and then move her to a more…secure location I take it?"
"Yes."
Mr. Cox then seems to be avoiding something. "You ah, you would be giving her her backpack though perhaps?"
Raines scrunches up his face in confusion. "Why would I do that?"
"Well, to learn about her. Perhaps she'd do something that would reveal more to you."
"Yes…or perhaps you're going soft." Raines sneers.
Cox gives him a lethal look. "Don't bet on it." his features relax slightly. "So, will you?"
Raines glances back over his shoulder at me, and then faces Mr. Cox with an unreadable expression. "Fine. She can have her backpack."
Mr. Cox takes the news with a slight nod and then turns and leaves.
Dr. Raines brings his attention towards me once more, and strangely enough, while I'm shaking and shivering and sweating, alone with a man who makes my skin crawl, and about to be taken god only knows where, all I can think of, is how nice it would be if I were unconscious again.
10:27 AM
Pensacola, Florida
Florida Airport
On An Commercial Plane
(Jarod)
"Please buckle your seatbelts, as we will be taking off into the air shortly." A stewardess says to the passengers calmly and sweetly, waiting for everyone on the plane to comply.
I've already buckled myself in, and am looking out the window at the airport, waiting for the plane to lift off.
I still can't believe I'm going back to Delaware, of all places. It's as though some invisible force is always slowly dragging me back there, and the farther away I get, the sooner and harder the call for me return is. I can't help but feel slightly like a lemming, tailing the leader in front, going along with their plans, ready to follow them to wherever they may lead, even if they lead me to a cliff and tell me to jump. But Astrea needs me, as many people seem to, and I can't help but worry for her safety. The implications of her… her 'sickness', for lack of a better word, are simply terrifying. It seems that even though she's out of the Centre they still have some collar around her neck, some leash that keeps her from getting too far away. It's a leash that extends to all of us, whether we see and feel it or not.
I sigh, my mind weighted down with glum thoughts, and close my eyes to rest.
"Excuse me sir."
I open one eyelid, and my brow furrows as I see a stewardess standing in front of me, her hand soothingly and encouragingly resting on the shoulder of a small boy, who looks no older than eight.
"Yes?" I ask, sitting up and completely focusing upon them with a friendly smile.
The stewardess seems relieved that I haven't bitten her head off, and then nods her head in the direction of the child who is curiously gazing about the plane. "I don't wish to disturb you sir, but due to an error our computers made with the seating arrangement, I'm afraid this child has nowhere to sit. You wouldn't mind letting him have the seat next to you would you?"
I nod. "Sure, it's no problem at all."
"Thank you so much sir," the woman replies, thoroughly pleased. "We were getting worried that there would be nowhere for him to sit.
I stand up and move out of my seat and into the aisle to allow the boy to take the seat next to the window. The stewardess gives one last smile, hands the little boy his small backpack, and then turns and walks away to go back to work.
Nine minutes later…
We lifted off of the ground seven minutes ago, and though the take-off was unexciting for me, the little boy I'm seated next to, who so far hasn't said a word, seemed to have thought otherwise. The little tyke had gripped the armrests like they were life preservers and he was adrift in the Pacific. Since then, he's been clenching his eyes shut and shaking in silent terror, looking out the window periodically, only for a second or two, and then snapping his head back around to begin shaking once more.
I'm beginning to suspect that he's afraid of flying.
I give a worried sigh as he looks out the window again. Then, before he has a chance to begin shaking, I clear my throat to get his attention. He turns slowly and looks at me, as though noticing me for the first time.
"I'm sorry mister. Am I bothering you?"
I shake my head. "No, you're all right. I was just wondering what your name was."
"My name?" the little boy's blue eyes get wide. "Oh. It's Johnny." He pauses for a moment. "What's yours?"
"I'm Jarod." I smile and hold out my hand.
He takes and shakes it, a bit nervously, but then seems to see that my intentions are truly friendly, and graces me with a grin.
"So," I say, leaning back in my seat, "what are you going to Delaware for?"
"I'm going to go see my grandpa. I'm going to stay with him for a few weeks." He suddenly lights up. "My grandpa lives in this big, big house, and he's only a little bit away from the woods, and when I talked to him on the phone, he even said he'd take me fishing at the river!"
I can't help but laugh. He sure warmed up fast enough. "That sounds like fun." Then I raise an eyebrow. "Your parents are letting you go all this way on a plane by yourself?"
He looked down at his Spiderman sneakers timidly. "Well, my parents had offered to drive me, or to let me take a bus, but I… I told them I wanted to fly."
I was confused. "You did? But it seems like, well, like you're afraid of flying."
He shakes his head vehemently. "I am! I'm terri-… terri…" his face scrunches up in concentration.
"Terrified?" I supply.
He nods enthusiastically once more. "Yeah, that's the word! I'm terrified!"
I'm confused. "But if you're so fearful of flying, then why did you choose an aircraft as your initial choice of transportation?"
I receive a blank look.
Oops! I'm doing it again… "Um, if you're afraid to fly, why did you want to go on a plane?" I say, struggling to use simplistic words to get across my meaning.
"Oh, that." He crossed his eyes and his tongue hung out of the corner of his tight mouth as he concentrated. "Well, you see, it's because if I don't want to be afraid of flying anymore, I have to fly."
"I'm, I'm not sure I understand." What is this kid talking about?
" Have you ever been really scared of something?"
I immediately nod. I think my paranoia would just about cover it.
"Well, the only way to not be afraid of something is to face it, like…like with my fear of flying." He gazes out the window. "I can be so scared of it sometimes, and I'll even have nightmares about the crashing and burning of a plane I'm on in my sleep. But if I don't ever fly, then… life will be no fun." He gives a small shrug. "You have to go through it, you have to…to fight it almost, head on. If you don't, you'll never stop being afraid. My mom told me that fear is just an emotion; she said emotions could be overcome. I have to fly on a plane, and show myself that it's safe, before I can overcome it."
He turned and looked directly into his eyes, purity and innocence shining through radiantly.
"So you see mister Jarod, you have to face your fears, or well… or they'll control you. Do you understand?"
All I can do is nod silently, taken aback in more ways then one.
He smiles. "Good." He then goes back to looking out the window.
I lean back in my chair, my whole body almost sinking into it. You have to face your fears, or they'll control you… I shake my head softly, and proceed to close my eyes, feeling a sudden and urgent need to rethink some of the decisions I've been making these past few days.
And the plane flies on.
************************************************************************************
Hoped you like this chapter! I'm glad it could get it out sort of soon, but don't expect my next one to come so swiftly. I'm working on like three stories right now, but I'll still try to get this one out in no more than four or five days. Until then, see you later!
P.S
PLEASE REVIEW!!! = )