Another chapter, now lets see how far I can put this chapter up (with the help of my sister of course!) before I leave for my road trip. Okay the song is by Damien Rice and is called Delicate. Such a sweet and beautiful song.

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home

Slipping through my window I crept to my closet, listening for anyone coming upstairs. No one came. They were to busy stuffing their faces with funeral food.

Opening the closet door, I took a step back, seeing the closet completely empty. How could they do this? I thought. They are my parents! Turning around I see boxes stacked up neatly near the door way.

We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

Walking over, I started pulling the boxes down. A paper fell off of one. It was a to-do list in my mom's writing. There was only two sentences on the paper.

Sell this stuff.

Put a 'For Rent' in newspaper.

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place (that) you've known

Crushing the paper I tossed it aside and opened one of the boxes. I felt so sick. I pulled out a floppy bag, and untied the leather strings so I could put stuff inside. Then I pulled out a duffel bag for my clothes.

Opening the rest of the boxes, I took out shirts, pants, and socks. In the back pack, I put my wallet, a blank journal for whatever, my cellphone, and anything else I could think of.

And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

Rummaging through another box, I found the knives I used to collect. Most were too big, and I didn't want to carry the weight. I found the pocket knife with the pearl-like handle I was going to give Meg . The blade was about 4 inches long. Fingering it, I decided to bring only that one.

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more

Throwing the bags out the window, I left the house for the last time. The Wake

was still going on, no one even noticed I was here, it was better that way.

We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

Exiting the same way I came in, I collected the bags walking to the front of the house where John waited. His fingers tapping the wheel. Opening the door I threw my bags on the floor and climbed in.

"Well?" he asked, putting the truck into drive.

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place (that) you've known

"I have a cousin in Iowa. I think she'll take me in"

He sighed.

"Listen, you don't have to take me, drop me off at a bus station."

The air was thick with tension and I sighed, looking out the window. My whole life was gone in a flash. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I dug my nails into my palms to stop.

And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

I must've fallen asleep because I woke up to golden fields out of the window. The truck was stopped, and John had a map out.

"This my stop?" I said half jokingly.

He sighed and I noticed the rifle in his lap. "Not for a few more miles. But there's something I have to do."

"What?"

"You don't need to know."

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place (that) you've known

Anger rose in me for no reason. My whole life I had been shoved away, now was just too much.

"Whatever. I'll go." I said angrily, grabbing my things and leaving the truck.

Stalking off, fuming, I didn't get far before John was walking beside me.

And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

"I'm sorry, I really am." he said. "But I can't take you with me in my line of work. It's too dangerous."

"I don't care, I'll find a way." I replied softly, looking up I saw he still had the rifle in his hands but his eyes were soft.

"I can take you half way."

I stopped, didn't know what to say or feel. I could feel the tears rising. Angrily I said, "What's your job? Hunting monsters!"

I laughed to hide my sorrow but John looked grave. "Sort of."

"What!" I yelled, the thought of my aunt arose in my mind.

Smiling he started to tell me why he was at the house and what had happened to him. I started to shake. How could this be real?

"Julia, I know it a lot to take in, but--"

"She was right." I gasped.

"Excuse me?

"My aunt, she uh, trained me about all this. Saying I was going to do great things, but I never..." I trailed off.

In disbelief he asked "train?"

Grabbing the shotgun, I shot it at a tree that was a few feet behind him. The center of the trunk exploded as the bullet hit it.

He laughed. "I guess you can come in handy."