F l a s h l i g h t

by Stark Raving Lolly

Nathan Blake. Robin Lawrence. Charles Austin. Bart Ford. Four boys, all dead. A violently haunted exboarding school. A fire in 1969. A man named Cole to run from. A mystery to be solved...and a love to be determined. Busy, aren't we Suze? [FINISHED]

4. Dystopia

Lyrics are by Evanescence. Not us. Enjoy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, and my legs were jelly. And though I managed to muster a pretty good exit line, I could not for the life of me process where to go or what to do. I couldn't really process much. Coming back here, after . . . well, THAT, it seemed like a huge mistake. Another Susie screw-up to add to the list. Paul had a girlfriend? A model?

I didn't mention that she was British, did I?

No.

Well, what do you know? Danielle's British.

Funny, that.

But yeah. So . . . whoa. Paul had this new lap dancing, Pommie chick hanging off of him. Slater logic. Go figure. Just . . . you know, it was certainly not something that I could easily come to terms with. I suppose that –

No, I'm going to sound like a loser if I say that.

Just –

Shutting up.

Oooh, this was NOT COOL! Just, with all the emotional turmoil that was happening in my life at the moment, to see – oh, God. What I'm thinking doesn't even make sense. It's all just a jumble, a huge chaotic snafu! Heh, you gotta love that word. Snafu. Sounded like . . . if you had Chinese twins, one would be called Snafu and the other, Tofu. Heh. But no . . . snafu was a completely disordered situation.

Story of my life.

But I knew exactly why I felt so strange when Paul said those words. "She's my girlfriend." I knew exactly why my heart kind of sealed over in a thin sheet of metal. Why my mind stopped going a million miles per hour. It made sense, and yet it didn't.

I think I was . . .

God, no . . . Who thought I'd be saying this before hell froze over?

Hell, I was jealous of Paul Slater.

---

Perfect by nature.

Icons of self indulgence.

Just what we all need.

More lies about a world that

---

I know, I KNOW. It's crazy and demented and insane and psychotic! Only, it wasn't. No, I know what you're thinking. You think that I'm jealous because I'm so madly in love with Paul. Ha. Don't disgust me. Don't insult me!

No. I said I was jealous of him, NOT the skank.

Paul . . . from what he said, he had everything that I could have ever dreamed of at the moment. He had a great job, high stature, a real purpose in life, a stable relationship, but most of all . . . freedom from the enslaving Memory Lane. It didn't affect him. He didn't care. He was able to live. Forget.

And I was trapped, forever.

Freedom was what I wanted – craved, most of all, above all else.

Hence: Susannah Simon is jealous of Paul Slater.

---

Never was and never will be

Have you no shame, don't you see me?

You know you've got everybody fooled.

----

He was dating. I don't know why I was so shocked. I mean, come on. Tall dark and handsome rich lawyer with that mysterious aura around him – of course he was a chick magnet. Too bad that I didn't go for him. Ha. Well, sort of I did, maybe. Back then. But everything had changed now.

Danielle Moore. A supermodel. It's ironic, huh? How he moved on from me, to a model. Was that trying to tell me something? That "since loving you for who you really are didn't pan out for me, I guess I'll settle for loving someone else for what they look like."

Nice.

Because, let's face it. Danielle was a babe. She was tall, and sexy, and dressed really – well, kinda slutty, but – well, and had really interesting hair and even though her face was like, totally pinched and she looked like a bitch, there was no denying that she was pretty. Her high cheekbones made her look cold, but in an elegant way. Like she knew she was beautiful. Like she had guys eating out of the palm of her hand. Like, the world bowed down to her.

It made me angry . . . angry that I couldn't be like that.

---

Look, here she comes now.

Bow down and stare in wonder

Oh how we love you

Too bad we didn't know she –

---

Yeah. So what? I was jealous of the one guy I hated with every fiber of my being.

And DON'T go all, "Oh yeah, she's just saying that but we all know that it will come out all cliché and they will fall head over heals in love." Don't you dare say that. That is so, so far from the truth. If you even have the nerve to think that after what he did to me, well . . . you got guts. Because from my experience, one does not fall for someone who completely and utterly destroyed all meaning of one's life. Because that's what Paul did to me. Hell, it would have been better if he'd like, gone all freaky on me and hit me like Cole did. That was physical affliction. No, of course, he chose the more destructive approach – taking away everything I lived for.

He took away Jesse.

---

Never was and never will be.

You don't know how you betrayed me.

Somehow you got everybody fooled. – Evanescence

---

. . . I suppose I better explain what happened, huh? And who the hell this Jesse guy really is, right?

Probably.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Well,' Paul said, that evil grin reappearing on his face. He went so much deeper than evil, though. It was past cruelty. Past everything I could have expected from him. 'If that's how you feel, then can I have my jacket back? The one I let you borrow at Big Sur?'

No . . . no.

I couldn't even raise my eyes to look at Jesse. I was so, so ashamed. I didn't want to confirm it with the guilt that was swimming on my face. I couldn't do that. Oh my God . . . how could Paul do this? Again?! This . . . this was wrong. Wrong and terrible and so like him!

Jesse's voice kind of crackled a little, as if he hadn't used it for a very long time. 'Big Sur? . . . The Point, as you call it? You went there . . . with him?'

My head remained bowed. I stared at my fingers that were on my lap. Movement was impossible. Breathing was becoming difficult . . .

It was just, I thought he'd GONE! I thought Jesse had up and left, like he said he had to! When I asked him to come to college with me, he'd refused, and he said it wouldn't work between us and that we were fooling ourselves, saying that it would be okay. He'd killed me, without the use of a gun or an axe or a chainsaw – or an assassin. No. Words had been so much more deadly than any action could have been. What he'd said, it had broken me so badly I didn't think that I could be salvaged. The despair he'd dumped me in . . . oh, you have no idea. NO IDEA, OKAY?!

DON'T EVEN TRY TO PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND.

My eyes were wide. I had to say something . . . I had to lie, and quickly, before he left again. I couldn't lose him again, no! God, that would ruin me. It would totally and utterly ravage everything I knew to be. I couldn't let him go, no way . . .

'Jesse, he's not –'

'Susannah, look at me.'

There was a lethal tone in his growl. Like, one wrong move and someone would die. Literally. I didn't know if I'd ever seen Jesse like this. In all of my seventeen years, I could not pin point a time where he sounded scarier than he did there.

It was frightening.

'Jesse, I didn't – I didn't . . . I was just – we met there! I didn't know he was going to be there, and I . . . he –'

Oh my God . . . I was lying my ass off. I couldn't even force out a convincing lie, let alone my usual voice. It was a stutter that was minced for all it was worth.

And I still couldn't look at him.

'Oh, Suze? You don't know where my handkerchief got to, do you? I'm wondering, did you leave it in my car? I mean, we were in there for a while. Did you drop it while we were –'

'Paul, SHUT UP!' I squealed at him, my eyes going wide. No, we were not kissing! Ew, totally not! He locked me in there, and refused to take me home, thank you very much! And then he tried to get me talking, but I wouldn't.

Ha, and kissing Paul Slater was so gross, right, Suze? That was why you had to do just that when he had you lying on the road at Big Sur, in the RAIN.

But Jesse could NEVER know that.

From beside me, I could feel the waves of anger that were burning from Jesse's direction. They scorched my skin when they hit me. I felt his fury on every inch of my body.

'Paul, I don't know what you mean – Jesse, he's – I . . . I didn't do anything, he was just –'

Just there, Suze? Was THAT why you kissed him back? Because he was just THERE?!

I'm corrupt. Oh God, take me now . . . I can't DO this! I then pleasured Paul with a look of such accusation, he smirked. He thought this was FUNNY. That DICK!

'Why are you looking at me like that, Suze?' he asked innocently, leaning against the door frame, 'It didn't mean anything to you, right? That's what you told me.'

There was another furiously quiet growl from Jesse. 'Slater . . . I'm warning you.'

'Paul,' I said in my calm panic, 'Get out. You said that you – just . . . leave now, please –' My heart was slamming in my chest. Oh, God, it hurt. Because, I was scared. Scared of what Paul was about to do. I could see a hidden fire in the eyes that I thought were only solid, impenetrable ice. Cold ice. But there was strength there. Passion. Power . . .

'Susannah . . . ' Jesse said slowly, but I cut him off in alarm.

'Jesse, he –'

'What did he do?' Jesse demanded, more fortitude and anger riddling his tone. My stomach was dead lead.

'Nothing! He didn't do a thing! We just –'

But Paul's next statement totally shattered all of my lies.

'It's a wonder you haven't gotten a cold or something, Suze. Especially from lying down, in the rain.'

My world lurched horribly. 'You . . . bastard –'

I couldn't believe it. I didn't think he would have the NERVE to hurt me like that. After . . . GOD, I couldn't BELIEVE that I'd believed him! I'd thought that maybe . . . you know, when he said he – you know, loved me, I had believed him. I had really started to think that maybe he could be the one to make it all better. To pull me out of the water, so I could stop drowning in this dark ocean that was my life. But now that everything was starting to get better – Jesse kissing me and stuff – he was here, smashing it all over again.

With no mercy.

But these things he was saying . . . it was all true. And that hurt above all things. The fact that I was keeping what was true from Jesse. Not trying to defend myself this time. This was the truth.

And then he poured saltwater on the wounds.

'You know Jesse,' he added with a dark glint in his eye, 'Everything's more fun in the rain.'

No . . . please, God, no . . .

I swallowed so hard then. I couldn't bring myself to meet Jesse's eyes. I still didn't have the courage to. Because one look at me would tell him who I really was . . . Someone so low that ants could look down on me. That's how Paul made me feel. Low. The lowest, ever.

'What . . . what are you implying, Slater?' Jesse asked with a rumble of quiet thunder. I could hear the murderous anxiety. He didn't want to know, but had to . . .

I pleaded with Paul to stop. But he was on a roll. A roll to put me in my place. A roll to get me back for whatever I had done. And he wouldn't rest until my life lay at his feet in total disorder and chaos, only so he could stomp it in the ground.

'Oh, you know, the view, the overall experience,' Paul continued on in a matter-of-factly manner, 'You just feel the rain kissing you as – '

'PAUL!' I yelped. Anything – anything to get him to stop. But I could only postpone the truth so much before it would unravel in front of Jesse along with life, as I knew it.

'What Suze?' Paul feigned a look of confusion. 'It didn't mean anything to you. That's what you said. What has she got to hide, Jesse?' A dark smirk cracked his face. 'I wonder.'

I started shaking. Really, really badly. I couldn't look away from Paul with huge, frightened eyes. I was pleading for him to stop, to not go on. I would just die, if Jesse found out.

But Paul seemed to like murder, because he didn't stop. Oh God . . . please . . .

'Hey Jesse, Suze is so creative, isn't she?' drawled Paul lazily, his eyes narrowing at me with something even darker than darkness. I was locked on his gaze. Still begging . . . don't do this . . .

'Jesse, he's making it up,' I choked out, 'Paul, don't –'

'Slater,' Jesse warned dangerously, but Paul liked the danger as much as murder.

'She spouts out such elaborations. She's really kind of talented –'

Don't!

'I'm not the one who's elaborating,' I squeaked, 'You're the one who's –'

I stopped. The dread was killing me.

Paul regarded me with a fiery look, commixing with the darkness . . . 'The one who's what, Suze?'

I couldn't move. Could one shake – 'Lying?' I said with uncertainty and insignificance. I wasn't sure of myself anymore. I couldn't trust my words.

Paul took a single step forward. His face was starting to be erased of all emotion, save his anger. He was angry with me. I knew why. I knew exactly why. But his step was like the off switch for my ability to breathe. Oh God, I couldn't move. Except shake, still. I couldn't bear to hear what he was saying . . . I needed to get out of there, but I had a stupid drip on my hand.

'I'm the liar then?' he asked softly, his timbre lacing me with prickles and ice. 'Suze, can you look Jesse in the eye, and tell him that? That might convince him –'

'Slater, she told you to stop. You will leave, now,' Jesse ordered rudely.

'Paul, please,' I urged him, 'Don't.' I was full on begging him, now. It was low. I was low. I was on the lowest plane of existence. I deserved to be.

Another step. It stank of threat and amusement and anger. I could taste the fury behind his façade.

'Slater, she told you to stop. She wants you to leave,' Jesse snarled from beside me.

'Oh, like YOU wanted to leave HER?' Paul asked Jesse. When he saw the look of pure guilt and pain on Jesse's face, he sneered, 'Oh. I get it.'

Jesse's guilt dissolved into anger in two seconds flat. He swiftly grabbed Paul by the shirt collar and held his fist back threateningly.

'Jesse, don't-' I started, but then realizing that I was trying to defend Paul, I promptly corrected myself by yelling, 'PAUL GET OUT!'

Jesse let go of Paul's shirt and pushed him forward. I could practically see fumes emanating from Jesse's ears. He was boiling mad. His eyes were narrowed at Paul with such anger and disgust.

'Jesse, don't listen to him,' I told him in the most calming voice I could muster, which let me tell you was not at all silky smooth. 'He's trying to . . . well, he's done this before. Don't listen-'

Paul walked over to Jesse slyly and patted him on the shoulder, saying in a sickly amused tone, 'Jesse, word of the wise, 'The Point' at Big Sur? Yeah, it's a nice place to take a special girl.' He turned his attention towards me and winked at me, saying, 'Suze is a special girl . . . very special. To me, in any case.'

No, NO!

Oh my God. He wasn't . . . he couldn't. Not after what he told me. Not after all we'd been through. My worst fears were about to be confirmed. The pieces to my life were shattering right in front of my eyes. And all I could do was watch. Watch myself fall apart. Watch myself die. Watch Paul, who was watching me die.

'Jesse,' I pleaded, 'I swear, I didn't do anything.'

'Oh no,' Paul corrected me, fixing his gaze back at Jesse, 'She didn't do just anything.'

'Shut up,' I told Paul with venom. 'Just shut up.'

For a moment, I actually thought Paul would. Shut up, I mean. He just continued to glare at Jesse. I swear, I could feel him retreating. I hope that he would realize how stupid this all was and just give up. But hopes aren't as powerful to the hopeless. Paul, suddenly directing his attention towards me as if he had a sudden revelation, said in a mock-concerned voice: : 'Did you get your ribs checked?'

'Did I . . . what?' I said, daring to ask.

Paul shrugged. 'You know, I was kind of lying on them on the road when we were kissing, I just wanted to make sure that they were -'

POW. Jesse TOTALLY punched him in the stomach. I squeaked momentarily, as Paul keeled over. But then he stood up, grinning viciously at Jesse. 'Hear that, Jesse?' he snarled, referring to the deadly silence.

'That's the sound of Suze not denying it.'

My mouth fell open. I wanted to. I wanted to lie, and say that it was all just another evil Paul trick. I wanted to convince Jesse that it was a mistake, and it wasn't real. But I couldn't. I couldn't force out something that was just so untrue. Not to him. Not anymore. My shit hole was already as deep as it could possibly go. Six feet under, if you want to get technical.

Just then, Jesse turned to face me, and oh my God. The look in his eyes, it . . . it was the worst pain I'd ever faced. Like he'd seen a whole world crumble before him. Like the meaning of pain and suffering had been redefined in that single moment in time when time itself had collapsed. Jesse knew. There was no need for words, or denials, or even confessions.

He knew.

And it killed him like his true death never had.

What have I done?

What have I DONE?!?!

'Jesse - ' my voice wasn't functioning properly. It was rusty and scared. No, terrified. 'Jesse, I'm . . . I'm SO sorry - '

'Aww come on de Silva,' Paul's voice interrupted with dripping, paralyzing poison, 'She said it didn't mean anything. Don't look so sad.'

'Jesse,' I babbled in pleading tones, 'Jesse, I - he was - I didn't mean to, he was there and I was scared that you weren't coming back and I was alone and freaked and I didn't expect him to - HE kissed ME! I didn't -'

'You're doing it again, Suze.'

I dared to look at him. To face a man of such cruel intent. 'Doing what?' I demanded.

His face split into another dark grin. He shook his head at me and tutted. 'You led me on Suze. I kiss you. You kiss back. How am I supposed to know you didn't like it? Love it? Hunger for it?'

I couldn't stop shaking.

No way . . .

Everything suddenly blurred dangerously. Jesse - oh man, he was PISSED. And at me, I'm certain. The machine next to my head - the one monitoring me - exploded suddenly. A sharp shriek was ripped from my throat as I shielded my face. The lights started flickering . . . but still, Paul didn't stop. He couldn't be stopped. Not now, not ever. The fire hidden behind his eyes was unextinguishable.

I was horrified. I really, truly, deeply was.

Paul cocked his head. 'You want me gone, Suze?'

I shook violently, and began to force out some vowel sound, when he butted in. 'You know, I never know with you. All these mixed signals, you know? Mixed signals suck, don't they Jesse?' he looked at the ghost boredly.

'Icierra el boca - '

'You'd know,' Paul plowed on lazily, 'you mess with Suze enough. Mess with her mind, and her heart. Is it how dead guys pass the time? Is it fun? It's not to me, JESSE.'

'Get out,' I growled.

Paul yet again ignored my desperate pleas, and stomped on, saying to Jesse almost conversationally, 'Just leaves some poor fool all heartbroken and angry. There's been a lot of that going on lately, eh?'

This time I turned my pleas to Jesse who I thought might be a little more receptive. 'Jesse, just go,' I told him, 'I'll talk to you later. Go . . . please!?'

Jesse turned his face, screwed in pain and torture, towards me and said in a hoarse voice, 'I . . . I want to hear this.'

'No you don't,' I assured him. My cheeks were burning with hot acid tears that charred my skin.

Paul patted Jesse on the back and said with approval, 'Well, that's great, Jesse. It's good to know that someone is willing to embrace the truth.' He glared at me pointedly and then back at Jesse with that phony, dirty politician's smile.

I stifled a moan.

'Okay, Jesse. Here's the truth. Ready or not . . . I invite Suze to the Point. She decides to go. I didn't make her. It was her decision. Well, we catch the sunset - glorious, might I add. I saw a lot of beautiful things that night. Everything was great, and then I kiss her. Of course, being typical, she gets all mad and runs away . . . so I trap her in my car.'

Jesse made a sudden movement, but thought better of it. I was staring down . . . horrified. These events were replaying in my mind's eye with a severe intensity. Oh, God . . .

'Again, we both got mad. She got out, and somehow I ended chasing her down the street . . . ' Paul continued on nastily.

No - I couldn't hear this! I couldn't be here when Jesse realized it all. I had to get out -

I quickly ripped the drip from the back of my hand. A sting shot up my arm but I furiously ignored it. I squirmed to get out of the twisted covers, but Jesse held me down. 'Susannah . . . stay put.'

I froze, and looked back at Paul, pleading so desperately now with my eyes.

I guess the Susannah Simon puppy eyes aren't as effective.

'Of course, I tried talking to her. But she would let me. Kept running. So yeah, there was no choice but to tackle her. Make her listen,' he added with a flare of determination. I felt Jesse's grip on my go horribly tense. Protective, but at the same time, kind of, well, disgusted.

'I told her some things, Jesse,' Paul leant in, his icy eyes staring at Jesse with the most sinister amusement ever. 'Things that your Susannah needed to hear . . . '

'Paul, stop it!' I gasped, and to my shame, a huge sob was torn from my chest. He was making me cry. Watching me crumble. Break. Die.

I cried harder.

'You want to know what I told her, Jesse?' Paul whispered to him in a murderous rage. 'I'll give you three guesses.'

Jesse glared at him, still holding me by my shoulders. I was shaking . . . crying . . . dying a million deaths.

'Give up?'

'PAUL!' I yelled at him in a voice that was three octaves higher than usual. I struggled in Jesse's hold, but he was adamant. His eyes were riveted on Paul in dread.

'Say it . . . ' Jesse urged in a silent wrath. 'What is it you told her.'

'Don't!'

Paul smiled right at me. Looked me in my teary, desperate eyes, and smiled. It was derived from something cruel and sadistic and harmful. Truly evil.

'I told her . . . that I loved her, Jesse.'

No.

No, no, no, NO, NOOOOOOO.

'Well,' he went on - the damage was done - 'It was a pretty big mistake on my part. Look at me now?'

I went limp against Jesse, too mortified for movement or thought.

'I'm almost sorry I said it . . . '

I stared into space. No, he didn't - he . . . he really . . . he did that. He looked me in the eye, and he destroyed everything.

' . . . He doesn't mean it . . . no one means it . . . I do, but no one cares . . . it's not - ' I muttered incoherently under my breath. My blood had turned to ice in my veins, turning my whole body numb. Anaesetic couldn't have deadened me any more than his words had.

There was a dull roaring in my mind, but by God, it was deafening . . .

And STILL, he didn't stop!

'So, there we were, Jesse. Lying in the middle of the road . . . kissing. And wonder of wonders Jesse, she was kissing me back. Wow, she can kiss. And when I stopped, well, let's just say she didn't.'

Jesse abruptly let go of me as if I'd caught fire. My whole body seized up completely, and every muscle was as hard as diamond.

' . . . And then, Jesse, you wouldn't believe what happened . . . '

Jesse didn't say anything . . . he didn't need to. Of the many emotions stirring in his dark eyes, the one that showed mostly on his face became curiosity. But I knew . . . I knew that when Paul would tell him, he'd wish he never asked. ' . . . It began to rain,' Paul said, his blue eyes dancing. He said it as if it were so magical, so enchanting. His tone was contagious to Jesse who leaned in to hear more.

I, however, wasn't interested anymore. In fact, I fell out of my bed. Jesse shot up on his feet to help me, but I was already scrambling for the exit. But when I looked at my destination, I saw that Paul Slater who was leaning against the doorframe again with that stupid smirk on his perfectly handsome face blocked it. If I hadn't suffered serious head trauma, I would have kicked the perfectly handsome face to resemble something a little less appealing.

'I wasn't finished here,' Paul pouted, 'Unless . . . would you like to continue the story, Suze? It's as much yours as it is mine.'

Ours. It was ours. The collective pronoun of doom.

I tried to avoid him by ducking under one of his arms, but he just shifted his weight around so that it was impossible for me to pass.

'Let me out,' I demanded, a sob projecting itself from my throat, 'Just fucking let me OUT.'

Paul lives in a twisted world. Things are the way he wants them to be, not the way they really are. He hears things the way HE hears them, not they way they were actually said. So when I told him to let me out, he instead grabbed me by the waist and thrust me against the cold wall and said, 'Fine, I'll just continue. I was just getting to the good part anyway.'

He pressed against me and glared, shouting with his eyes, "You deserve this."

Did I? Oh, God . . . he was ruining everything . . .

'Let go of her, NOW,' Jesse commanded in a deadly tone. I wanted to die. Die and never come back as a ghost. I was so humiliated and horrified.

'Jesse,' I moaned to him, my cheeks wet, 'Jesse, I swear it wasn't me, it was the – he was making – I didn't – '

Paul was smiling at me. 'I was making you?' he asked softly.

I nodded with a whimper. He was touching me, and this was NOT COOL with me. His body was crushing me against the wall, one of his hands by my head. I could feel very hot breath on my neck, and I was still shaking madly.

How could he? How COULD he?!

The lights were now flickering very aggressively. Paul's face was ripped across the boundaries light and shadow very rapidly. And he was still smiling . . .

He'd just annihilated everything . . . oh my God.

I was devastated.

And I would never, ever forgive this . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

'Whoa . . . is that . . . is that Suze?'

Now, standing in the breezeway in intensely deep thought, evoking terrible memories of five years prior to the now, hearing a question like that would only serve to intrigue me and save me from my torturous memory. I turned around, and oh my God . . . THAT was a sight for sore eyes . . .

'Oh my God! Suze . . . Suze Simon? In the flesh?' CeeCee squealed as she looked to Adam in shock. Adam looked me up and down and replied, 'You sure that's flesh, Agent Mulder?'

Holy crap . . .

I stared, my mouth hanging open.

CeeCee Webb . . . and Adam McTavish.

Oh my God.

Father Time's gonna get his BLOODY ASS KICKED NOW.

CeeCee grabbed my by the shoulders squeezed me tightly into a hug. When she finally let me breathe, Adam stuck out his hand to shake mine, but when I went for it, he quickly had me in another death hug.

Wow.

I never knew hugs could be so . . . warm.

Or lethal.

'What is this? My punishment for not calling you two?' I managed to choke in Adam's strong grasp. A bubble of such rambunctious bliss was struggling for emergence. Oh my God, CeeCee and Adam! Had it been this long?

With another rush of sorrow, I hugged him tighter.

Adam let go of me and said, 'Pretty much. You thought you could get rid of us, Simon. Well . . . you're wrong. MUAHAHA – ouch.'

CeeCee, who had elbowed him in the ribs, said, 'Give her a break, honey. It's just that . . . God, Suze, it's been forever! You don't know how much I've missed you!'

Hang on . . . Did she – oh my GOD! OH MY GOD!!!

'Did you just call Adam 'honey'?' I demanded with a goofy grin.

CeeCee blushed a cute shade of magenta.

'She finally managed to bag me,' Adam said, a smile spreading across his face, 'It was pretty tough, you know, with all of the other women who couldn't keep their hands off me – OUCH!'

This time, it was me elbowing him.

I just couldn't believe it. I really couldn't. It felt like . . . I dunno. Like just yesterday, me, CeeCee and Adam had graduated and were saying our good-byes, but had decided that life could go screw itself, and that we were gonna still hang out, no matter what. There was something inside of me that was tugging at my heart pleasantly, and I felt like I was on a soaring high again.

Partly because of the fact that CEECEE AND ADAM WERE FINALLY DATING!!!! but mainly because, this was CeeCee and Adam . . . here again. Making it all seem real, and making it not seem like such a gigantic mistake that I'd came back. An infectious smile spread across my lips.

'I knew we'd see you here, Suze, but . . . gosh this feels so unreal! You grew out your hair! It's beautiful and really shiny and long,' CeeCee gushed as she petted it softly.

'You both have changed too . . . I can't believe it,' I told them. My nose began to feel prickly . . . a sure sign that I might begin crying. But it was true they had changed. First of all, they finally opened their eyes, and now they were a couple. Secondly, Adam sprouted or something because he was much taller than he had been. CeeCee ditched the glasses and the metal in her mouth disappeared.

Her hair was cut into a layered hairstyle that fell sleekly around her shoulders. Her eyes looked brighter, and she just looked so much more mature in general. Adam was in a casual looking outfit that still hinted his happy-go-lucky nature, but at least made him display a certain sophistication.

'Oh my God, you guys,' I said, forcefully trying to bite down the waterworks now. That would have been suuuuch a great first impression, after these five years. That Suze Simon had turned into a faucet. Joy.

Adam grinned at me. 'Whoa, we get an 'Oh my God'? That has to mean something. I've been working out,' he hinted at me. To CeeCee, he said smugly, 'She's admiring my now to-die-for physique. Watch and learn, little lady, how the women are magnetically drawn to a man of my superior good looks. Suze is a perfect example of the intense attraction to my animal magnetism.'

I raised my eyebrows at him. 'Um . . . okay . . . '

CeeCee scoffed at him. 'Honey, shut up. You're embarrassing yourself. Don't let the whole world know that you're still in the third grade.'

SHE CALLED HIM HONEY AGAIN! OH, GOD IS GRACIOUS!

She turned back to me, a soft, amiable look in her eyes. 'God Suze . . . I still can't believe that you didn't keep in touch. How have you been, tell us everything!'

I shrugged at her. 'I'm really not that interesting.'

Ha. Whatever. My life had enough dramas to outdo the corniest soap opera. But it was just the thought of having to share these dramas with someone else . . . give myself away as the pathetic loser I had become . . . well, they weren't going to know. I couldn't let them see me as "Hi, I'm Suze! I'm a trainee, can I take your order?"

No way. No freaking way.

'So, um . . . how did you guys finally get together?' I craved, wanting badly to know. I was really so chuffed for them! I knew that CeeCee was bursting to say how happy she was, but was holding back all of the impending bliss explosions. It would undoubtedly be messy on her part.

'Well, one day we were sitting on the beach, for a quick visit, and the next thing you know, Mr. Animal Magnetism asked me out,' CeeCee said with a sly grin towards Adam.

I snorted at him.

'Well, you could so tell she wanted me,' Adam gloated. 'Especially with the way she asked me to put sunscreen on her. I mean, a guy can't say no to rubbing stuff on a girl's body. Especially –'

'Adam!' CeeCee snapped at him.

'So anyway, when I was rubbing SPF 45 on her back, she grabbed my shoulders and laid a heck of a kiss on me.'

'Go Cee!' I said as I nudged her. 'Way to make the first move.'

'I couldn't take it anymore,' CeeCee confided. 'I just had to tell him. I could write for newspapers and stuff, but for some reason I could not find the right words to tell him. So I had to show him.'

'She sure showed me . . . Damn, she's all with the tongue action,' Adam said with an impish grin, sliding his hand around her shoulders.

'Adam, shut up!' smiled CeeCee, flushing a bright pink that was clearly evident on her pale cheeks. I gave Adam a doubtful look. 'He's not that tactful, is he?' I commented, putting my hands on my hips.

'No, but you get over that bit,' Adam shrugged at me happily. 'Any girl would get over than when they saw me naked - OW! STOP ASSAULTING ME!!' he snapped good-naturedly after I'd whacked him one on the side on the head.

CeeCee leant into him, beaming up at his face. 'Aww, she hurt you? Want me to kiss it better, Madam Adam?'

'Yeah . . . . it didn't look like it, but she really whacked me on my mouth,' he said innocently.

CeeCee giggled and they were at it. In the hallway of our old school. Some of the kids who were finding their way to detention stopped to look at them in awe. The little first-graders' eyes were bugging out of their heads, third graders were whispering at the scandal, and the older kids were hooting and hollering. But that didn't seem to stop them at all.

Listening to them made me kinda queasy in a giddy, joyful kind of way that made my tummy squirm pleasantly. CeeCee and Adam . . . Oh, this was the BEST.

But . . . um . . . they were getting kind of . . . well, I mean, there were KIDS watching, you know?

'Er, guys? You have an audience,' I informed them flatly.

'We - honey, stop it - what?' CeeCee asked obliviously. She then saw the fifth graders staring at her, most likely scarred for life. ' . . . Oh. Sorry, kids. It's okay, your parents did this too and even more to conceive you all, don't be grossed out,' Adam shrugged. CeeCee beamed with embarrassment, resting her head against Adam's shoulder. 'So come on, Suze, how's your life? Do tell, we're dying to know!'

. . . I bet you are . . .

'I . . . uh . . . I've been in Massachusetts and . . . oh wait . . . Mass is going to begin in . . . er, thirty minutes. You know, spots fill up fast around here,' I laughed nervously.

CeeCee raised a white eyebrow and said, 'Right. Okay, we might as well go to find a good seat before Kelly and her former posse take them.'

Adam held out both of his arms and escorted us to the chapel. I felt better about going there with Adam and CeeCee. They were like a shield, protecting me from getting stabbed by the enemy . . . and his stupid Pom–assed girlfriend.

Adam dropped us off at the last pew, the seat that we always sat in at Mass. That is, when I decided to go to Mass. The first year, I politely refrained, but that soon got boring. I mean, there's only so many games of Solitaire you can play before you get sick of it, you know?

'I thought you wanted us to get good seats,' I told him.

'I did . . . and these are the best seats,' he said with a grin. He sniffled and added, 'Good times, good times.'

'What?' I asked, as CeeCee elbowed him girlishly.

'You know . . . back seats?' he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, poking out his tongue a little between his teeth.

I gave him a weird look. 'What, are you some make-out machine now? Whoa . . . I really shouldn't leave you two alone,' I said, in genuine worry. 'This is NOT a movie theater Adam. Unlike at the cinema, there's actually someone up the front?'

'Huh?'

'Like, I dunno, Father Dom?' I said with an amused, random tone. 'Don't let the priest collar fool you, he's totally used to seeing honeys hot for each other in his House of God. After all, 'twas the way of Adam and Eve. And it's close enough, right? Adam and Cee? But . . . you two are wearing normal clothes . . . no um, leaves . . . yeah . . . ' Oh God, do I EVER stop babbling about crap?!

I blushed a little at my seriously bizarre train of thought. CeeCee snorted at me. 'Whoa . . . intense, Simon . . . don't think so much, you'll hurt yourself, dude.'

CeeCee saying 'dude.' Jeez . . . this is too much . . .

'Sorry . . . I uh . . . sorry,' I apologized awkwardly as I sat myself in between Adam and CeeCee.

'What gives?' CeeCee asked as she moved her hand so my butt wouldn't crush it.

'I felt I might need to separate you two until you can control your urges,' I told them in my best Sr. Ernestine impression. CeeCee and Adam rolled their eyes and laughed.

The organ began playing soft music as more and more people filed in. Kelly Prescott waved to me, her big stomach nearly knocking over half of the people. And it wasn't because she'd gained weight – that would have been pretty ironic, though – it was because she was having a kid. I caught a glimpse at her engagement ring . . . the rock in it had to be at least the size of her palm! That was so like Kelly to marry young...and rich, too.

Adam snorted beside me. 'Ha, would you look at that? Old Kelly's the new La Ma's Prescott mascot. Damn, someone knocked her up good.'

'She's engaged,' I told him, pointing out the ring. Adam whistled.

'Wow, look at that gem! Babe, I'm so killing her and Cee to get my hands on her guy,' he said with a mock-wistful grin.

CeeCee leant forward and shot him a dirty look. 'I'm right here, you know? Kindly plan my homicide on your own time? Oh, there's Debbie Mancuso . . . .holy crap . . . how SHORT can a skirt get?' CeeCee demanded in affront. 'That's gotta be only five inches or something!'

'Why don't you wear those?' Adam groaned to her.

CeeCee pushed me down, so she could whack him hand on the head with a grin. 'I don't want people to be blinded by the whiteness of my skin,' she shrugged.

'But it's a nice white. Like milk. And I like milk,' Adam said with a watery smile.

. . . Um . . . .that was kinda sad . . .

Sister Ernestine made her way up to the lectern and cleared her throat a few times, as she once had when we were rowdy teenagers.

'Today we kick off the celebration of the five-year reunion with a very special Mass for all of you. The celebrant this evening will be Father Dominic. Please stand and greet those around you.'

'Group hug!' Adam announced as he squished the three of us together. He really must have been doing some kind of work out . . . jeez, the guy was strong. Kelly and her big stomach greeted me cheerfully along with her fiancée . . . Scott Turner. I kinda felt sorry for their kid. But since Mr. Turner had acquired some wealth, he could possibly afford a plastic surgeon willing to diminish the size of their kid's nose.

After greetings were exchanged, the organ began a very cheery melody. Sister Ernestine began singing and waving her arms about like she was conducting a world-class choir. She always did that, in order to get us to sing at Mass. It didn't work then, so why did she think it would work now?

Wow. Everything was just so . . . familiar. So unreal. I hoped that I wouldn't wake up, and this was all a dream. I didn't want to face another day of Starbucks. Of Cole Kennedy.

But no. I was here. I was happy.

So weird for me.

I saw Father Dominic parade down the small aisle, still looking good. That rumour that the nuns had . . . the one where they said he grows better looking as he aged? I now knew what they meant. Three altar servers came before him in the procession . . . and one of them was Jack, who as the tallest, was the one carrying the crucifix.

The entrance hymn ended weakly, and Father Dom had to half shoo Sister Ernestine off the lectern because she was giving us all a hard look, trying to decide which ones of us were probably worth being nice to. Father D, snowy topped as ever, beamed down at everyone. 'My, my. How the Lord hurries time. Look at us all, we've all grown up.'

There was a humorous murmur. Father Dom smiled some more, looking very pleased. 'It is a blessed thing, to see students as yourselves go through highschool, to prepare you and send you into a world, and then to bring you all back together. This is what the Mission Academy is about. Unity, and friendship, and a close relationship with God.'

I grinned up at him. He hadn't looked at me yet.

See? Back row seats in a church weren't all that Adam proclaimed them to be. I saw him and CeeCee looking sideways at each other furtively, trying not to laugh. I scowled at them. If there was something to do with religion that I had respect for, it was Father Dom . . . um, that was about it. What? After all these years, why should I be too chummy with God? What's he done for me? A big fat nothing.

' . . . And now, we are all back where we belong. So I start with a blessing, in the name of the father . . . ' Father D made the sign of the cross, and everything followed suit unsurely. I looked over to the corner, and saw with a flush, that Paul was in deep conversation with that new girlfriend, Danielle, or whatever. She was - in the spirit of Debbie Mancuso - wearing one of those micro minis. Hello...skank much?

Paul wasn't even listening to Father Dom . . . that really made me angry . . .

'Suze, what's with the glare thing? Cool down, sunshine,' Adam hissed in my ear, and poked my hand in a subtle warning. With another blushed, I looked away sharply from Paul, and again, focused my attention on Father Dominic . . .

It was a long mass. I mean, well, it was taking long enough. Time dragged on slowly, giving me more time to observe exactly how much weight so and so had gained, or how crappy whosie-whatsisname looked with a mohawk . . . and so on. But beneath all these shallow observations, I was really thinking hard, wondering if these people had gotten something from their lives. Was I the only one who hadn't?

Was I the only one in this room who had failed? Failed to meet the world's demands? Failed to keep up with the fast pace of life, and had fallen behind? Was I alone in this limbo that I existed in? And was it just me who was sucking the energy from the whole congregation? It felt like it. I felt like a total sucker. The high feeling was soaring back six feet under again, the level that I lived at.

The readings were read by a few of the new novices. I saw that the ones that were novices when I was in school, had now become sisters, donning the same huge crucifix that hung at Sr. Ernestine's huge chest. Even they got promoted!

There was a reading, and then Father Dom began a homily that I wasn't paying attention to. I was wondering how I was going to wing my speech. I'd just . . . um, talk about weather. Always safe. Yeah. Weather was good.

I'm gonna suck.

Or maybe I'd just read the speech that I'd written earlier. That would be nice. And add that the evil Adonis wannabe had acquired a skanky girlfriend, and the world (or at least every single girl age twenty-three) should mourn.

Mmm. It was about then, while I was thinking bitterly of Danielle Moore, when there was a tremendous crashing sound of the stained glass windows. Glass splintered down, and people screamed as they struggled to get away from the showering glass. I gasped, and to my horror, a – you're not going to believe this . . . a whole BIKIE GANG came soaring through the window. I yelled in shock, as the roaring motorbikes landed deafeningly on the ground, straight through the pews.

You may wonder how all of this is possible.

I mean, it kind of defies logic. And gravity. Not to mention the boundaries of physics.

Well, believe me. It's possible if you're dead.

Very possible.

Thus the reason that people were panicking so much. No one could tell what was happening. They couldn't see the dead.

I could. Oh, horrors of being a shifter.

'Suze, come on, we have to get out of here!' CeeCee gasped, and tugged at my hand. I stared at her wildly. 'CeeCee, Adam, get everyone out! Now!'

Just then, riding through all of the pews and several people, one particularly plump, hefty guy roared through the church, blowing things up as he went. Until, of course, he went to ride through me. That caused some very nasty reactions.

I was knocked to the side, and the biker stopped his motorcycle, and stared at me. Something strange flashed through my memory. The guy's eyes were in slits, surrounded by pouches of fat. I could tell that he was angry. He glared at me, his flaming red beard looking as fierce as he was. He had a denim jacket that was torn at the sleeves, and long leather pants, with a bandanna around his head. Honey, NOT a fashion statement. All the other riders were dressed in the same vein. But this guy . . . he looked mean. His arms were heavy in the tattoo department. It was really gross.

'Where is Paul Slater?' he demanded of me, clenching HUGE hands around the handlebars, which, ironically, resembled his thick red mustache.

I blinked, and scrambled back. Why was it ALWAYS Paul they wanted? What, was the whole world enchanted by him or something? Why did I always have to get the homosexual ghosts who were turned on by Paul Slater alone, WHY?!

'Um, over there,' I pointed to the corner stupidly.

The beefy dude grinned down at me nastily, looked over to where I had accidentally indicated, and his smile grew crueler still. Paul was trying to help Dani, who'd been grabbed by one of the bikers –

HOLD THE PHONE!

Danielle – she – SHE WAS A MEDIATOR!

Oh my GOD! He sure knows how to pick 'em, don't he? I mean, that was the only way to explain how they could physically touch her without going right through her, right?

I kind of gasped, but then the biker guy rumbled over to Paul – and that was when it clicked . . .

---

. . . I would have made it too, if a three-hundred pound Hell's Angel hadn't suddenly materialized between me and the door . . .

'Minions? You have ghostly MINIONS to do your bidding for you? What ARE you?'

---

It was BIKER BOB! From that time when Paul most evilly lured me over to his house and put the moves on me and tried to hinder my escape by siccing Sparky over here on me! You remember? I sure as hell do . . . and I'm not likely to forget it. My first lesson of the "Guys are pigs" class. Well, that and I also learned to wear granny shoes when seeing anyone of the opposite sex.

I wonder what his real name was. I'd laugh if it was Bob. Or Sparky. Or Jimmy Choo.

Excuse me.

'Paul Slater! I heard that you were back in town,' Biker Bob growled at him, his motorbike grumbling dangerously.

Um, oops.

CRASH!

I whirled around, and saw that there were a team of bikers circling poor Father Dom and Jack! Aww, crap . . . Everyone was still madly trying to get out, when all of a sudden, the doors slammed shut.

How convenient.

'Suze, the doors! They won't open!' CeeCee shrieked at me in panic.

'Get them open!' I yelled back at her. I then ran over to the trapped priest and the squirt, and jumped onto the back of one of the flabby guys.

I know, stupid. And kinda perverted. But don't go all innuendo on me, okay?

'Hey, bucko. Rides over,' I hissed at him, and then rolled off with him.

My God . . . I didn't know that ghosts could have BO THAT strong, whoa!

'Puah,' I groaned, and squirmed from under his thick arm, kicking him in the stomach. He roared, but, using my remarkable God-given strength, I hauled him up and threw him into one of the other guys, crashing their bike.

'Move it!' I yelled to Father Dom and Jack. But Dommy, of course, was overcome with the whole "reunion" thing.

'Aaah, Susannah,' he said with delight, drawing me into an affectionate embrace, 'I am so glad that you came. May God be –'

'Hi,' I smiled, looking up at him. But when I noticed that the huge statue of the ever-Merciful Mother Mary was about to squish him, I kind of yelled, 'Bye!' and shoved him out of the way.

It barely missed me. Eeek, so much for merciful . . . she's just bitter she died a virgin, right?

Oooh, bad Susie. Bad.

Everything was shattering . . . the pews of the church were all being destroyed in this heated clash, the windows were still being shattered, the trapped people were screaming, Kelly looked like she was going to go into labour, CeeCee and Adam and Jack were trying to force the door open, and the bikers were laughing mockingly.

Welcome to my dystopia.

My world.

Where all is bad. And chaotic.

My snafu –

'Paul, come and sodding help me!'

Yeah, um, no one could miss that Pommie accent. Again, I jerked around, my heart beating fast, and saw that Danielle was being dragged away by about three bikers. Now, despite my certain disdain towards this young woman, I could not ignore the fact that three against one was a bit much. Especially when Paul was getting his bloody guts ripped out by just ONE.

No, not literally. Bob was plowing Paul in the stomach almost mercilessly. I mean, you'd think a guy would know when to quit. I guess his former minion picked up that aspect from Paul. Paul was slowly falling to the ground. Not good at all. That was it, damn it.

Eeesh . . . what a guy to piss off, huh? Wonder what Paul did. Probably called him a man-dike or something. Wouldn't surprise me...I mean, what kind of manly-man wears tight leather pants? Don't let the tattoo of the naked chick on his arm fool you.

I sprinted over to the threesome of bikers – ew, that sounded weird – and said in an indifferent tone, 'Are you all related to that boulder in Raiders of The Lost Ark, Indiana Jones by any chance?'

They all grunted, and rounded on me, shoving Dani over to Paul – who was still being pummeled, I'm happy to report. 'The little girl is insulting us. Let us insult the little girl,' they said.

Whoa . . . that was lame. And, not to mention, they also sounded like cave- men. And smelled like them too.

I could just imagine them all barreling over, and with a stick that they lit on fire or something...maybe a wheel, and sticking their tongues out at me, grunting while looking all prime-ape-ish.

That would be . . . lamer.

But no. They all, barreled over all right, and two of them tried to grab me. But I'm just sooo good, and I executed a flawless backflip, resulting in them crashing into each other. They bonked their heads, and were down. Er . . . this was kind of easy.

I just love it when ghosts haven't seen the cartoons and don't know how stupid they really look. Aaah.

The third glared at me in fury, and charged. I, however, simply jumped forward, shoved him to the ground, and – kinda viciously – cracked his neck sideways. Oh, shut up. He'd be fine in a minute.

But you gotta love that crackly sound.

Or is it just me?

Yes, I am a freak. Get over it.

Aww, no, I didn't kill him, he's just . . . um . . . sleeping.

Yeah.

'Get off me, you son of a –'

Oh yeah.

Him.

Rolling my eyes, I sprinted to Biker Bob, and knocked him heavily sideways. He released a heavy 'Ooof!' and – OW?! – landed on top of me. Paul scrambled up, and seized him by the shoulders.

'I thought – ' (punch) ' – I exorcised –' (punch) ' – your sorry ass –' (a couple more punches) ' – into oblivion!'

'I do not take well to being your dogsbody,' growled Biker Bob, and again, started responding some of this lovely carnage. Okay, wishful thinking. Again, I dragged myself over, and boredly whacked Bob over the head brutally. He groaned, dropped Paul, and turned around to face me, looking outraged.

'I have met you before,' he stated.

'Yeah,' I nodded. 'Over on the floor, about two minutes ago.'

'No,' he growled, 'At Paul Slater's house. He did not wish for you to be leaving,' Bobs said menacingly, taking an angry step towards me. What was he trying to do? Scare me with his formal speak? I'm sorry, but you can't take someone in tight leather pants all that seriously. 'Aww, man,' I whined, 'You know you can't take me.'

He grunted in anger, and dived at me, but I picked up a broken piece of wood from the ruined pews. 'Why don't you take your intergalactic space troopers and shove them up you butt?' I snapped, and whacked him very hard on the head.

I could have shoved THAT up his butt, but . . . ew. Forbidden territory much? This guy was like, sire of Fat Bastard.

Besides, if I touched him, I'd probably get sucked into all the flab and never be seen again.

Black hole, much? Ewww.

'You guys must make a pretty big impression on people when the meet you. AFTER you fall on them I mean,' I said to him, bopping him on the head again with the wood.

Oh, watch me go, I'm getting swat-happy.

Bob stumbled, and then furiously grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me against Paul. I groaned, and then kinda realized that I was, er, lying on top of him . . . and with my hair draping all over his chest, no less. His very, very hard chest . . . I felt my face go very hot. With his intern job and that stupid plastic girlfriend he had, when did he find the time to work out? OH MY GOD, Suze, turn your stupid brain off!

'Hi,' he said.

My cheeks burned even hotter.

'Screw you,' I retorted, pushing against his very, very hard chest . . . to get up, you know?

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' he smirked.

'What – ' I climbed to my feet angrily, throwing him a dirty look.

Only to be knocked back on Paul by Biker Bob's fist.

Whoa . . . some cosmic force really wanted us together, huh? Was this, like, the animal magnetism Adam was talking about earlier? An attraction that can't be denied?

Um...ew.

Pissed, I staggered up again, and was about to teach Bob a never-ever-push- me-on-top-of-Paul-Slater-ever-again-you-freak lesson, but Paul said lazily, 'Don't bother.' And then, I AM SO SERIOUS, with a single look, Biker Bob just spontaneously combusted! As in, fire all over him. Like Paul had poured gasoline on him and lit a match or something.

HOLY CRAP!

Okay, now it was PAUL that you didn't want to get pissed. Eeek, way to rebound, huh?

I stumbled away from him in alarm, as he dashed over to Dani. There were still a bunch off bikie louts exploding random things. The chapel was a mess. A real, genuine mess. Leave it to me and my strange abilities to wreck the Mission once more. The Mission's been in some sort of repair ever since I set foot in there. But the chapel was going to be in a heck of a lot worse shape if I didn't get Bob and his lackeys back where they belonged.

I busied myself by punching out as many of those stupid toadies as I could. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy.

Some of those men . . . yeah, they had to be at least three hundred pounds, if not more. I was surprised their little motorcycles could even carry them they were so huge. And while Bob was mostly flab, the rest of his crew were muscular as all get out. I mean, muscles in their teeth, even.

So while dodging falling debris, I marched up to one of Bob's cronies with an unfortunate flock-of-seagulls haircut and kneed him on his side. He fell back just a bit, pausing momentarily from damaging the baptismal candle.

I wasn't going to get off easily with this one. He lunged at me with his might, sending me crashing to the floor. I recovered pretty quickly, thrusting myself up by kicking my legs which 'accidentally' kicked him in the stomach. Oops.

He doubled over, wailing in pain. I had no idea I could do that much damage to a guy his size. I quickly ran to him to examine my work. I should have known that he was going to try to pull something . . . like grabbing me by the leg, causing me to crash to the floor.

He stood up over me and pulled something out of his pocket. I couldn't tell what it was until I felt cool metal on my neck. A knife. The loser had a knife. I hadn't thought of that. I mean, come on, motorcycle gang? Yeah, what else would they carry, tissues? I can't believe I didn't see it coming.

Aww, crud. This sucked, didn't it?

'Suze! We got the door open!' Adam yelled in triumph, as people hoarded out of there . . . no one could see that Susannah Simon was being held at knife- point. Well, er, exaggeration. Except the . . . what, four other mediators present? Who, I might add, were kind of busy at the moment themselves.

'Stand up!' Tubby above me yelled. Without waiting for an answer, he yanked me to my feet, and held the knife to my throat, holding me dangerously against his chest. Now, as much as I'd love to be close to a guy with muscles, this guy was kinda two hundred and twenty pounds too heavy for my liking. I gasped again, when I felt the sharp metal just under my chin. Oooh, this was SO not cool . . .

'Eh hey,' I protested, 'This isn't very nice. I'm just, you know, a girl with no real way to defend herself and you go all weaponry on me? That's kinda mean, ya know? I mean, why are you even here? For money? Here, you can take it! I only, like, have a dollar or so on my, but - why do ghosts NEED money? A little greedy? I mean, dude, you're DEAD. Get over it -' I babbled on, until he shook me.

Um, ow?

'Paul Slater! Where is Paul Slater! We have come for vengeance. You do not enslave ghosts and get away with it, shifter!' the guy roared throughout the church.

'Paul now would be a good time to - SHOW, you know so I don't - DIE, much?' I choked out. Where the hell was he?! And what did Tubs mean, enslave? Did Paul . . . were these ALL his ex-minions?!

Holy crap!

Paul had some major explaining to do. Of course, he was busy trying to take on two huge men by himself, which I hate to admit it, but . . . well, he was kinda doing an okay job. Considering, you know? The, um, suit and stuff? You'd think he was a black belt or something. Dani was busy too, slamming her knee into some poor guy's nose. Pretty good for a chick in a mini skirt.

Me? Not so good. Being held at knife-point by someone twice your size is not all it's cracked up to be

Especially when he's pissed at shifters in general, thanks to our friend Mr. Congeniality. Yeah, thanks Paul, you ruined the whole shifting-can-be- good thing for me. Holding poor, unrested souls as your little servants? Beyond uncool. Talk about opressive.

'Slater's going to pay,' the man growled in my ear, 'And he's going to take the rest of you with him.'

'But that's not fair,' I pouted, 'Most here are completely innocent. Like me, for instance. I've never used anyone as a minion. Innocent as the day I was –'

'You,' he hissed gruffly into my ear, 'never stopped him from doing it. You'll pay too.' He pushed me closer into him, sliding the knife down to my chest, angling it at my heart.

EEK! NAH, I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!

One move and I was toast. Gone with the wind. Done for. Good as dead.

I swallowed as I made my breathing more shallow, trying as well as possible to dodge the cold steel. What could I do? I couldn't very well make any sudden movements or speak for that matter. I was trapped in terror and fear. Breathing even became difficult. All I could hope for was that if he plunged that knife into my heart, that I would die quickly. And hopefully not come back.

I began saying my prayers, apologizing to the Mother Mary about calling her bitter because she died a virgin. I mean, that's pretty noble, right? And the whole pregnancy thing was kind of an achievement to, you know? Not many people can do that. But maybe, if she could find it in that large, holy heart of hers to forgive me . . . I begged that she would send help. Any help.

I mean, she's been tied with many miracles before. And that's what I needed...a miracle. And it wasn't long before my prayers were answered. Because the next thing I knew, a brilliant flash of light shimmered in front of me. And that light turned out to be . . . JESSE?

Aww, crap.

Prayers are answered in the funniest ways. The Virgin Mother must have a wicked sense of humor.

Um . . . Suze don't need help.

Take him back, now, please! When I asked for a miracle, I meant a good one. Not one that would further trap me in my dystopia...oppressing me, enslaving me. No thank you...I think I'd rather die, now.

'Susannah . . . ' his voice greeted me with a soft, silent, silken touch.

I felt broken.

All over again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Again, long. Sorry. And considering Lolly has writer's block . . . well, she didn't do too badly for her bits, right?

What's the verdict, Hayles?

Hayley- Are you kidding me, Lolly? You were great! Seriously, writers block my bohiney! Sorry it took awhile, but you know how it is. So what's this...Jesse's back? Talk about conflict! Tune in next time to see how this all pans out!