Part Eight:

Normal P.O.V.

I think I'm humming to myself. Isn't that funny? Lalalalala. I'm so funny. Hey, no, I'm not humming, the snow is humming. Or singing. I'm not sure. Isn't that funny? I'm a snowflake, lalala. I've never been high before, but if it's as funny as being knocked silly, then I should try it sometime. Ahaha. Ahehe. Ahahahehe. A loo loo. A boo boo.

That sounds like baby talk. I've never baby talked before. Probaly when I was a baby. Know what's more funny than the humming? I'm so cold, that I'm not cold anymore. I can't move. It feels like I'm slowly drifting off into sleep. At least the blood on my head has clotted. Now I won't have to put red highlights in my hair. The log covered that check. I also think at one point I cried. It's so cold that the tear just about froze on my nose, though.

I think I'm a statue now. Don't hit me with a chistle or I'll shatter. I can see my hand and it's as white as the snow. How cool is that? I'm not shaking anymore, either. That helps a lot in my statue making! I can almost hear Oak in the back of my head. Trying to teach me how to self-discipline myself. "Hold out your arms until they refuse to stay up,"he'd said in the summer of age 7. It was that age 9 of him that suddenly got interested in teaching me sports.

We'd spent hours outside at a time. Oak would be telling me the rules of the game. He'd never cheat because Oak was all about earning your winnings. Cheating isn't earning. I remember how my parents said Oak was so mature for his age. Sure, Oak was mature in the area of responsibilities and team work...all the things sports teach people...but he wasn't school smart at all. Just about failed the qualifications to pass kindergarden.

Suddenly, I heard someone off in the distance of the real world. My mind was back in the young ages where I always hung out with Oak. He was the coolest brother ever. I must have been the most annoying little sister though. "Are you dead yet,"I heard a familiar voice ask in hope. I didn't move, I was barely breathing, and the vision of my younger days...my happier days was coming to me. Maybe this was death. Going back to your happy times.

I know now that I'm beyond crazy. There is no life after death. Just like vampires aren't real. I felt warm fingers on my neck and it sent a ripple of waves through my body. "Maybe I'll just walk off a bit and come back when you're completely dead, then,"the voice...I know it's Daviel's...said. I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I was a statue. Statues are silent.

"God, you're stupid. What did you do? Trip over your own feet or did you just hit yourself over the head,"Daviel asked in annoyance. Ok, death, could you hurry up a bit? And how cruel God, if he's real, is. Making me die with the voice of Daviel nagging at me. What a HORRIBLE way to die! I could see Daviel, now. He had positioned himself in my view to look at me. Sick freak. Daviel had his hands folded and was bent down. He was watching me die with deep thought.

Then he reached and touched my cheek. The warmth of his fingers sent shock throughout my body again. "You know, if you live through this without my help, then you'll have major frost bite,"Daviel stated dully. He seemed to be trying to convince himself of excuses to let me die. "But then again, Jestin would be happy that you're alive,"he stated. Ok, this was worse than him nagging. Now he's just talking on and on about whether or not to let me die. GO away.

I prefer to die in peace. "Ah, bleeding Christ,"Daviel snapped,"If you annoy me one more time I'm going to kill you in a more tortorous way, you got that?" I didn't reply. Maybe I'd die before he could so called save me. Just as I thought that, the world around me started blurring. Hey, I'm getting my wish! I felt Daviel pick me up bridal style and no shock rippled through my body. This meant that I had lost feeling just about completely.

"Bleeding fucking Christ,"I heard Daviel mutter in frustration before everything went black.

I opened my eyes to see myself in the bed that I had hidden under the day I had jump roped. I sat up quickly and groaned before laying back. My whole boy was sore. My flesh was tingling from the result of being thawed. Yet, everything was alive...oddly enough there wasn't any result of frost bite. I moved around the blanket to look at my legs and bent around to look at my back. Then, I started doing reflexes and I grabbed my foot and pulled it to my face.

Counting my toes. They all were normal. Nothing was black. It was all there. No frost bite. Odd. Suddenly, Daviel's voice came from the door of the room. "What in the world are you doing,"he asked sceptically. As if he's better than me. I dropped my foot limply and glared at him. "It's your fault I almost died,"I accused,"For crying out loud, at one point I thought I was a snowflake!"

He only shrugged,"It isn't my fault you're fruity." Suddenly, I remembered why I thought I was a snowflake: my head wound. I reached up and rubbed my hand through my hair. There wasn't even a bump anywhere. I reached with my other hand and started feeling around my head. It's got to be somewhere. "Now what are you doing,"Daviel asked in annoyance. He had made his way to the bed while I was on my wound search.

"What did you people do to me,"I asked fearfully. The last thing I was is for all this vampire nonscense to be shoved onto me. Right now, I'm just in the presense...it isn't in me...I hope. Gosh, that sounds wrong. Meanwhile, Daviel laughed dryly,"Nothing, Iveria, I just healed you. You should be lucky I did THAT much. I was planning on leaving you. Damn Jestin."

I glared at him and he said,"Now, don't do that. I've got permission to kill you if you annoy me one more time." I blanked my expression quickly. "Good choice, Iveria,"Daviel said with a wicked smile. I sighed,"It's Ivy and you are so very exhausting. Did you know that?" For some reason, Daviel still had that wicked smile on his face. That kind of face that said "I know something that you don't know I know because you're too stupid to know that I know."

Because of this, I raised an eyebrow. "What are you smiling about,"I asked in confusion. Daviel's smiled widened like a little kid,"Oh, nothing, Ivy." Then it hit me. "You know my NAME,"I screeched in confusion. "Two points to the girl with a plant nickname,"Daviel said evily,"And take away one for taking too long to figure it out." I went back to glaring at him. "You know, I could go along saying how you're annoying me SO much,"Daviel said whistfully,"And then I'd kill you."

I deepened my glare and growled,"How'd you know my name?" Daviel shrugged and sat down on the bed. "Well, it was SO very hard to figure it out,"Daviel said melodramatically,"I had to go to my secret source to figure it out. Took forever, you see. They coded the words, too." Before I could ask what his secret source, he lifted his hand over my lap and dropped a newspaper on my lap.

On the front paper was a huge article titled: KINSTON'S BRIGHTEST TEENAGER MISSING

It was nice to know that they thought of me as the brightest teenager in town. Under the title was my Junior picture. My full name and age was listed under the picture. I turned and glared at Daviel,"Secret Source? Everyone can get the newspaper!" He shrugged,"Why don't you read the whole article? You'll find interesting facts inside of it."

I gulped and read the article out loud, occasionally adding my own thoughts:

"Iveria Elaine Kinrey, sixteen year old Junior who is previously attending Kinston Sr. High School, went missing at the night of Friday the 15th, December 2006. It was the last day of school for this brilliant minded girl...oh thanks!..., seeing as it was time for Christmas Break. Iveria, better know as Ivy by her good friends, was last talked to by her 38 year old Debate teacher Johnathan Poe; who is now the number one suspect for the missing of Iveria. WHAT!?

"All I said was that she was slipping slightly on her debate with Miss Berg and then she went home,"Mr. Poe repeats. Ruth Berg states that she saw Mr. Poe take Miss Kinrey's arm and walk off into the hallways. "It looked very suspicious in the way of how he was talking to her in a low tone. She looked startled to me,"Berg stated with certainty in her voice. She is willing to testify against Poe. That bitch...she was the one who got me down that alley..."

I went on complaining until Daviel said,"Would you stop groaning about the rich girl and read the rest of it? You'll find such interesting facts in there." He had a serious face on, suddenly. SO I continued:

"Iveria's mother and father, Thomas and May Kinrey, were waiting for their only child to return home from a good day at school. They were devastated when their daughter never came home. With an interview, May Kinrey said in tears, "I'm afraid something bad has happened to her. First Oak and now Ivy." May Kinrey has been placed in an institution to help her mental breakdown,"I paused. I turned to look at Daviel,"You read all this?"

He nodded,"But you haven't finished it. Skip this right here-" He pointed at the next couple of paragraphs "-and read starting right here." I already knew what Daviel was going on about. I was NOT going to read this out aloud. I rolled up the newspaper and threw it on the ground. Then I crossed my arms,"No." I didn't snap that reply-didn't even sound mad in the least bit-it was just a refusal. Not stubborn, not negative, but just a simple no.

But Daviel got up and grabbed the paper. He turned and started reading aloud himself:

"What is sad the most in this missing tale is the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and May Kinrey have lost their second child. Iveria's older brother, Oaklan Oliver Kinrey, died at the age of ten in the witness of Iveria herself. Oaklan, used to be known as Oak, was found by his father. Mr. Kinrey had walked down the road to the park to tell his children to come home and heard the screaming of his daughter, the now missing Iveria.

Iveria had Oaklan's mangled head in her lap and was found crying and screaming on the top of her lungs. At one point, they had thought this eight year old girl may have commited manslaughter, but the autopsy showed that Oaklan had been killed by much stronger force. No one really knows if Iveria saw her brother's murder or if she had been elsewhere-seeing as she hadn't been killed. Iveria didn't speak again until the age of 12.

We must get the message out to find Iveria Kinrey, to return her back to her already broken family, and to give her the life she clearly disearves."

I had already placed my hands over my ears and closed my eyes. This wasn't happening. Daviel wasn't reading that. It was none of his business. Why would they put that in the newspaper? It's NO ONES business. Not one person's except my close relations. I was not going to listen to Daviel's growling and snapping about my business. I wasn't going to listen. NEVER.