Shooter's word echoed in my head all day and nothing I did could get rid of them. Mort came home around dinner time and he knew something was wrong. I didn't tell him what Shooter had said. I wanted to but I just couldn't bring myself to tell him.

I cooked chicken and stuffing for dinner. It was nearly as good as I could cook it but I was thinking too much to make amazing food. Mort didn't too mind. He wasn't such a great cook himself.

"If something bad happened would you tell me?" he asked over dinner.

"What makes you ask that?" I asked avoiding his question.

"I left you alone today and now you are acting funny," Mort said pushing his dinner aside. "Did Shooter do something to you?"

"No," I said. It was a complete lie. Shooter didn't DO anything to me. "He didn't do anything to me."

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "But I want you to promise me that if does do anything to you that you'll tell me."

"Of course I'll tell you," I said. "You shouldn't worry though. I'm fine."

"I can't help but worry," Mort said bringing up a hand to cup the side of my face. "I love you Shadow."

"I love you too," I said smiling at him.

"It's late," he said dropping his hand. "Let's go to bed."

"I have to run home," I said quickly. "I don't have enough clothes."

"Can't it wait until the morning?" Mort asked.

"I don't have anything to wear to bed," I explained.

"Who says you have to wear anything?" he joked.

"Silly boy," I said getting up from the table. "I'll be as fast as I possibly can. Wait up for me if you can."

"Sure thing baby," he said before getting up from the table and walking out of the kitchen.

I sighed and got up from the table as well.

I got a feeling it's going to be a long night.

"Where have you been?" I asked out loud.

I'm surprised you noticed I was gone.

"What do you want?" I growled.

To give you some advice. Don't go to your mothers. You'll get yourself in trouble if you got there tonight. Wait until the morning.

"I'm not listening to you," I said and walked out of the kitchen.

I did need more clothes but that wasn't the real reason I was going to my mother's house. I could have worn dirty clothes to bed and gotten more clothes in the morning. It wouldn't have killed me. The reason I was going because I needed some time by myself to think and the ride would give me that much needed time.

Shooter was trying to play mind games with me that's all it was and I wasn't about ready to give in. He wasn't real and listening to things that aren't real couldn't be good. I was stupid enough to treat him like he was a real person. Mort was right. I shouldn't have done that.

Oh well. It was too late now. I had stepped over the line and there was no coming back. I had accepted Shooter and Clover like they were real people and now there are going to act like they are real people.

The ride seemed shorter than ever. Before I knew it I was pulling into the driveway and getting out of the car. I noticed my conscience I had finally given up. She must had realized there was no talking to me anymore. I just wasn't going to listen to her. I was going to do what I wanted to do.

I walked up to front door and opened it. The whole house was dark and quiet. Mom was bound to be in the shower. She always took a shower late at night.

I went up to my room and started to stuff more clothes in my bag. All I wanted was to get out before she realized that I was in the house. But of course that wasn't going to happen. I learned a long time ago that you can't get anything past your mother.

"Shadow?" her voice came from the downstairs bathroom. "Is that you?"

"Yes mother!" I yelled zipping up my bag.

"I'm the bathroom," she said. "Come here. I want to talk you."

I knew what it was about. She wanted to know where I had been and if I was home for good. I wasn't of course but I couldn't tell her that. She wouldn't tell me leave the house. I walked downstairs and towards the bedroom. You had to past through the kitchen to get to the downstairs bathroom.

When I passed through the kitchen Shooter's advice came back me. He had wanted me to kill her. Perhaps he had been right. She wasn't going to let me be with Mort and I wanted to be with Mort. I wanted to be with Mort more than anything. Maybe killing my mother wasn't such a bad idea.

I looked around the kitchen. There were tons of knives but I didn't think I could bring myself to stab my mother to death. It was then that I noticed the spray butter. I could spray the bathroom and she would slip getting out of the shower. It was the perfect murder.

Don't do it.

I ignored the voice and picked up the bottle of spray butter and put it my pocket. When I heard my mother call me again I raced over to the bathroom. I opened the door and walked in.

Mom was still in the shower. She had the curtain pulled back.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

While she was talking I took out of the bottle and sprayed some of the butter onto the tiles. She couldn't heard the sound of it over the running water and her own voice. I stopped spraying when she was done speaking.

"I had to stay a little longer," I explained. "He's still in pretty bad shape. He can barely eat."

"Oh," she sighed. "Are you going right back?"

I sprayed a little more butter. Most of the floor was covered with a light layer of it. It looked like enough.

"No," I lied. "I'll head back in the morning."

"Good," she said turning off the water. "I'm getting ready to get out of the tub. Why don't you go whip us up a little snack. I haven't eaten yet."

"Sure thing mom," I said putting the bottle back in my pocket.

I walked out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I started walking down the hallway and only got a few steps. A scream broke through the air. It was followed by a thud and then silence.

"What have I done?" I asked myself.

You have abounded reason and given into the demands of someone that isn't even real.

"I can be with Mort forever now," I said heading for the front door. "I didn't do it for Shooter. I did it for me."

Than you are truly lost.

That was one of the last times I ever heard my conscience talk to me.