Eh. This may or may not be one of the last chapters in this story. I still have some thinking to do about where I want this story to go now. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. I liked writing it, but mostly because I'm sick of writing angst. P Note: I hate Simon and Garfunkel (with a burning passion, sorry for all you fans), and I have NO idea why I'm using a title of one of their songs as a chapter title. It just kinda fit, I guess.

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Johnny walked into the convenience store, and a tiny bell rang. There was a tired, old-looking man working at the counter who glared at him. It was quiet in there, but then again, it was midnight, so nobody would exactly expect a crowd of people in a drugstore.

Johnny scanned the shelves... they were pathetically bare, much like his own self. His pockets were empty (aside from a few coins), and his black, long-sleeved tee wasn't much of a winter jacket. He picked up a fun-size bag of chips and headed for the counter.

"Say, kid, what are you doing out here so late?" the old man asked, snatching the chips from Johnny's fingers. "Don't kids these days have curfews?"

"I still have an hour before mine," Johnny replied, lying. He figured saying he killed the two people who provided him shelter wasn't a good idea.

"Ah," the man replied. "Are you interested in trying a Brain-Freezy? I'm supposed to be sellin' 'em."

Johnny glanced at the slushie machine, amused. One of the nozzles was dripping something blue. "What is it?"

"I don't know, some newfangled ice-and-meat contraption. Listen, I'll just give you a free sample, since you're lookin' a little sickly, but let's keep this between you and me, alright?"

Johnny nodded gratefully, taking the frigid cup in his hands. Through the clear plastic of the cup was a mixture of crushed ice and bits of maraschino cherries. He sipped a little through the straw ... and a delighted smile crept onto his face.

"Ya like that, eh?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir." Johnny grabbed his chips, took another sip of the brain-freezy, and headed out the door.

That man was nice, eh? Not evil, like the people you've recently been running away from.

The voices in Johnny's head hadn't been so evil, since he ran away from the Frank-and-Veronica house. (Or, to put it bluntly, since he killed them off). Things seemed to be looking up for the boy.

-

Minutes later, Johnny was perched on a bench in front of some apartments, watching some commotion from across the street. There was a news reporter fixing his hair and giving orders.

Does anyone watch the news after midnight?

"Good evening, folks, we've got a breaking news report to interrupt your infomercials. Police discovered the dead body of Alex Hamilton last night, and tonight, we have discovered it was a definite suicide," a news reporter spoke to a camera enthusiastically.

Alex? Wasn't he that asshole that you--

He continued, "Apparently, he stabbed himself in the stomach. Poor kid. We've got the younger sister, Aria Hamilton, with us tonight. Aria, how are you dealing with this?"

Hey, that's that girl!

Johnny wasn't focusing on devouring the chips, anymore. He eyed the girl from across the street, hoping to hear something. Since when was it Alex who stabbed himself?

"Well, it's been difficult," Johnny heard the familiar girl whine. "My family and I had no idea what was going on with him."

He felt the same boiling feeling in his stomach that he got whenever he was around that girl. It was an unpleasant feeling.

"Ah, we're sorry to hear that," the news reporter feigned sympathy. "In other breaking news, a couple was murdered and police cannot find any evidence. We cannot identify these people just yet, but one was a man in his early 40's with brown-gray hair. The woman had curly blonde hair and unnaturally tan skin."

Frank... and Veronica?

The news reporter looked to a police officer, who said, "Nope. We're not finding anything. No fingerprints, no fibers, just a helluva lotta blood." The officer then stuck a finger in the camera, and added, "Folks, be on the lookout tonight. This monster of a murderer may come into your house, and, when you least expect it, kill you! He'll cut your dirty little throats, and he'll post pictures of it on the goddam internet, and THEN he'll--"

"THANK you, officer!" the reporter said a little loudly, cutting off the other man and pushing him out of the way. Johnny chuckled, then sighed discontentedly. He wasn't a monster, was he? Since he wasn't caught?

...It was a little strange that he hadn't been caught for either murders.

Just then, he met eyes with Aria, who was standing off-camera now. Her hand motioned for him to come over. He dropped his chips and brainfreezy, and attempted to inconspicuously run from the scene before she saw.