So, FFNet was being a bitch lately, I'll bet you all had the same problems too. I want to thank timkjh ( I think I got that right) for telling me to use a .txt format, and even though you have to go through it to fix everything personally, it beats not having anything at all. So don't complain!

Just to clear everything up and to make sure I don't get sued, I do not in any way own Dear Angel. April Sixth, one of the best bands in the area, is responsible for that. It really is a great song, too. Listening to it here would make the experience of this chapter much more satisfying. Oh, and I don't own Stephenson's Rocket, which is also a real song. Pretty spankin' bassoon part.


Love in a Bottle
By me, Cassi Mo.

Chapter 2: Your Words Rip and Tear

"You know, you're acting really out-of-character, Jimmy," Sheen commented to his distressed friend walking to homeroom with him. "What's with the whole being-nice-to-Cindy deal?"

Jimmy threw his face into his hands. "She slips into my being easier than a virus," he moaned, "and viruses make you sick. Holding in my daily increasing feelings all the time is making me sick. I have to do something!" Jimmy raked his hands through his hair and groaned. "Maybe I'm coming on too strong and scaring her off. Maybe I should just be mean to her like always so she won't fall away through my fingers in fear."

"Maybe you're over-thinking this, Jim," Carl tried to comfort his friend. "You over-think a lot of stuff. Love is not one of them to be thoroughly thought out. Just go with the flow, act like you always do, and let her come to you. She already knows you like her anyways."

"She does?" Jimmy's eyes grew wide.

"Well, if she didn't before, she does now. You certainly made yourself more than obvious this morning," Sheen scoffed.

"Great," Jimmy complained. He sighed. "Okay, I have to pull myself together. Act normal. Don't be too forward and let her come to me. I can do that." Suddenly Jimmy turned to face Carl. "How do you know this stuff?" He asked suspiciously.

"Hey," Carl protested, "I calls 'em as I sees 'em." He smiled. "No, really? I learned the hard way. Now I know what not to do. Actually, I still might be doing things wrong. None of my methods have worked."

"Carl, you're too shy, man!" Sheen explained. "If you like a girl, tell her. Letting them come to you is the lazy way and makes you seem too overconfident..."

"I don't know why I even ask them," Jimmy muttered as he tuned Sheen out and walked away from the two, now arguing over how to get more girls.


Last period. Finally. Cindy walked through the doors leading to the band room, more than prepared to get this strange day over with. Jimmy had been acting weird all day, not even talking to or arguing with her unless she started something first. All this was running through Cindy's mind as she walked through the band room to the locker area and in front of her locker, conveniently located beneath Jimmy's. He, of course, had his face inches away from his lock, fumbling to get the combination right. Cindy pulled him away by the shoulder, not only so she could through but so she could talk to him. She stepped forward and put the numbers into his lock and got the locker open on her first try. She swung the door open and turned around to face him before he could get in.

"Okay, Neutron, out with it," she demanded. "Why are you acting so strange today?"

"God, Vortex, what are you, my mother?" Jimmy looked at Cindy with annoyance in his blue eyes. "I don't have to answer to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to my seat with everything before Mr. MacDonald yells at me. But if he does, I'll just blame it on you." Cindy heard some kids snicker around her, but they quickly shut up when she glared at them.

As he turned and walked away with his stuff, Cindy stood before her own locker, her jaw slack in shock. What was this? She had vowed to be nicer to this boy, and he decides to be meaner? No one gets away with being snotty to Cindy Vortex, she thought. Shoving her reed into her mouth, she grabbed her stuff and stormed into the band room.

She was halfway to her stand when Mr. MacDonald, who was in the middle of announcements, stopped her. "Ms. Vortex!" Mr. MacDonald hissed at Cindy. "You're late! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I have to say that I was detained by a metaphorically big-headed kid who decided to give me some lip," Cindy replied calmly, "so I'm not in the mood. Can you just give me my punishment and get on with class?"

"Very well," Mr. MacDonald conceded. "Stay after for detention tomorrow."

Cindy shrugged as she walked to her seat as first chair bassoon. Detentions didn't faze her, especially those for band. All she needed to do was stay after and maybe put some chairs away or something. Her section, Drew and Zachary, gave her strange looks, as she had never been known to talk back to the band director. "What are you staring at!" She snapped. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jimmy snap his head straight forward as well. Crap. I can't do anything right today.

"Okay class, give me a C-flat major scale, all state pattern, forte," Mr. MacDonald commanded. (In plain English that means a scale with all notes down one half-step, really fast, and loud.)

"Five bucks says Cindy will play fortissimo to be louder than Jimmy," Cindy heard Drew whisper to Zachary. She did not particularly like either of them, but today she thought it would be funny if Drew lost some money. She played mezzo-forte.

As she noticed Drew digging in his pocket for the bet money, she commented, "Maybe now you won't make your bets so loudly. You've already lost twenty bucks this week." Looking around, Cindy saw multiple other kids hand money to grinning ones next to them. She smiled, satisfied for the moment. Suddenly she heard a snicker from the row behind her. Of course, it was Jimmy.

"What, Vortex, can't handle the volume?" he sneered. "I'm surprised. Your mouth is more than big enough to prove otherwise."

"At least my head looks like it belongs to my body," Cindy retorted. "You just look like God made everyone else normal and put you together out of the leftover parts." This was only partly true, as Jimmy's head was more proportionate to his body, but he hadn't totally grown into it yet.

Jimmy snarled. "Yeah, your head does belong to your body—they've both been profusely beaten with the Ugly Stick!"

The whole class, who had been watching this exchange intently, gasped en masse. Jimmy and Cindy often traded playful banter, but this was more serious than simple competitiveness.

"God, Spewtron, you're more moody and PMS-y than a pregnant--"

"Okay, that's enough," Mr. MacDonald interrupted. "I still want to get somewhere before school lets out. Class, take out Stephenson's Rocket."

The rest of the class passed by normally, if Jimmy and Cindy both heatedly arguing with each other and vying to be the best musician counts as normal. Mr. MacDonald tried to keep them under control in school, but on the walk home, everything fell apart.

Jimmy noticed Cindy walking by herself at the back of the group while he was half-listening to Carl ramble on about llamas or something pertaining to. Interrupting him at the first opportune moment, he fell back until he was in step with Cindy.

"So…" He tried being nice once again. "How was your day? I didn't see you that much."

Cindy snorted. "What do you care, Neutron?"

"I must care some, because I'm using breath to ask. Why are you acting so weird today?"

"I'm acting weird?" Cindy stopped to face him, an incredulous look on her face. "First you're nice to me, then you ignore me, then you're mean to me, and now you're being nice to me again. Don't tell me I'm acting weird."

"You're right, Cindy," Jimmy said in mock agreement, even using her first name. "I am acting weird. But it's only because of bitches like you. You're so fucking selfish; you don't even care how your actions affect the people around you. You only care about what's in it for you. You make my life miserable." He spat out the last word as if it were a curse.

Cindy jerked back as if Jimmy had just slapped her across the face. She stared at him with a blank expression, only because she was too shocked to feel anything. She and Jimmy had called each other names before, some insulting, but only in jest. Hearing it in all seriousness and having never heard Jimmy curse before made her mind go blank.

She had to get away, or she was going to stop breathing and pass out. Everything swirled around her, and she started to feel dizzy. Turning sharply on her heel so he couldn't see the tears of anger and pain in her eyes, she almost lost her balance and fell. Then she did the only thing she could think to do: she ran.

She ran opposite the direction everyone was traveling in, back the way they had just come, dropping her backpack on the sidewalk in the process. She thought she heard Jimmy call her name, but it sounded distant, and she just ignored it.

She didn't stop until she got to the park. Briskly walking toward a secluded bench near the lake, she sat down and pulled out her iPod and just pushed play, not caring what song was playing. As fate would have it, the first song was Dear Angel by April Sixth.

She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she just sat there, staring forward. Sothisis how it feels to hear the one you love practically tell you he feels nothing for you. She felt empty, drained of all emotion, and her head was pounding. In her newfound pain, she pushed the replay button and the song started over. She closed her eyes, oblivious to reality, and shrunk back into her own black world.

Consequently, she neither heard nor saw anything around her, including the three black clad figures advancing toward her, until it was too late. She was mouthing the words to the music when a piece of duct tape came over her mouth and wrapped around her head, stopping the flow of words and emotions pouring out of her mouth. Before she could react, two more figures grabbed her wrists and ankles, painfully securing the former behind her back.

The first figure appeared before her face, his own face covered by a ski mask. Pulling out one earphone, he hissed in her ear, "Write the lyrics," referring to the song playing on her iPod. The figure holding her wrists released her right one so she could take the pen that the first figure held out. Instead she struggled to get her left hand free, and got a slap across the face in return. Taking a deep breath, she put her right hand back behind her, and pulled on her left hand again. The figures understood, and released her left hand, quickly taking the other back.

Grasping the pen in her left hand, she wrote the date in the top right hand corner, and could hold herself in no longer. Sharp breaths through her nose escaped as muffled sobs, and tears streamed down her face and onto the paper, smudging the ink as she wrote:

Dear angel of mine,
Where do I start to express how I feel?
Well, my love's gone blind
And now all I feel is what I hear.
Your words rip and tear,
Through my heart so weak and pure,
And I find myself
Wanting to die.

I bleed for the second time tonight,
Holding the love that's in my mind.
If only my love could be with you,
If only this pain, this pain died too!
So I'll break you away, Away from me.
Try to break you away,
Away from me.

As I sit here alone,
Thinking about everything that you said,
Well, since I'm alone,
Maybe after all I was better off dead.
'Cause without you,
My luck's gone down, what do I do
When I find myself
Wanting to die?

I bleed for the second time tonight,
Holding the love that's in my mind.
If only my love could be with you,
If only this pain, this pain died too!
I bleed for the second time tonight,
Holding the love that's in my mind.
If only my love could be with you,
If only this pain, this pain died too!
So I'll break you away,
Away from me.
Why can't I break you away,
Away from me?
I'll break you away.

So rip out a cane,
My enemy.
Rip out a cane,
My enemy.
From my great friend,
To my enemy!

I bleed for the second time tonight,
Holding the love that's in my mind.
If only my love could be with you,
If only this pain, this pain died too!
So I'll break you away, Away from me.
Try to break you away,
Away from me.

I'll break you away,
All that's in my mind
I'll break you away,
And all that's in my life.
Sincerely yours.

Finally Cindy understood. The lyrics, perfectly mirroring her emotions, made for the perfect runaway note. No one would suspect a thing. It was flawless, really. Everyone would assume she'd gone on her own as she'd done so many times before, so no one would bother to look for her and by the time they realized something was amiss, it would be too late to save her.

Cindy did not even fight her assailants, for she knew it would be futile, and there was no one around to witness this or to call for help. Just then, as they began walking away with her in tow, she felt a prick in her neck, and her world went fuzzy and faded out all together.


Hours later, Cindy woke up with a terrible headache. She sat up in the cot she found herself on. As she did so, astrip across the back of her head smarted and throbbed painfully. Examining it with her fingers revealed the blonde hair that had been underneath the duct tape had been ripped out, and the scalp underneath was raw and tender.

The room she was in, about an eight-foot cube, was all white, even the objects inside it, including the cot, a toilet and small sink, and the clothes on her body. There was one solitary fluorescent light attached to the ceiling and no windows, only a door that slid into the wall and would have gone unnoticed had Cindy not been carefully scrutinizing the walls, trying to find a way out.

Suddenly the wall she was observing opened, and several figures stepped into the room, causing Cindy to tumble backwards. All of them were clad in black, except for their leader, a womandressedinblood red clothes. She was the only one who spoke.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Cynthia," the woman crooned. Cindy only stared at her; she knew this woman from someplace, but couldn't find her name through the thick fog that was her brain. "I hope you find the T-wing suitable to your standards."

"Who are you?" Cindy asked. "And what does the T in T-wing stand for? Why am I here? Will I die here?"

"You know, you talk too much," the woman said with a frown. "You see, when you talk too much, these walls change colors. Even when you don't talk much, they will be changing colors, but I will not tell you that it is magic, because that is a lie.There is no such thing as magic.They are white now, but soon enough they will be redder than my clothes here. If our real target does not show up in time—yes, you are bait for someone else—everything in this room will change from red to black. But you won't die just yet. We have given our target a generous deadline, so don't worry. Until then, try to enjoy yourself. People will come in frequently to visit you, so you won't be alone. Have fun!"

The woman turned and strode from the room with a giggle that left Cindy motionless in realization.

She knew exactly who their "real target" was, and finally the name of the woman in red.


I don't know much of the bridge to that song, and no one has the lyrics to the bridge, so I pretty much made that part up. I mean, if you listen to the song it sounds something like it, but that's about it. Just thought I'd clear that up.

And about Jimmy's outburst, I'm not sure if that was too much or not. I mean, he is known to say some mean things, and the intention was for him to take it too far, but I'm not sure if as an author Iwent too far.

Anyways, I hope you like it. I get such a kick out of when people are like, R&R! R&R! I really don't care if you do or not, but I won't post another chapter until I get at least five reviews for this one. Personally, I'm rather proud of how it turned out. I will keep you no longer. Review as you would have others review you. If you don't want bad feedback, don't give it! (I mean flames when I say bad feedback, not constructive criticism)