I clapped my hands to my mouth in horror. Gally's body was horribly mutated, his neck twisted all the way around, bones snapped and sticking out in the wrong direction. His eyes were purely white, and his tongue jutted out of his mouth, tinted dark purple. Minho started to explain, but my pounding head couldn't make out what he was saying.

I felt bile creeping up my throat. Making a weird choking sound, I dashed upstairs and groped my way to the bathroom, desperately trying to hold in my vomit.

This doesn't make sense. I didn't even eat anything this morning! I thought.

As soon as I stumbled into the bathroom, I snapped. Collapsing next to the toilet, I bent over and started to throw up. My hands clutched the toilet seat so hard, my knuckles turned white. I felt the barf slide up my throat and come up in an excruciatingly disgusting manner, flowing out of my mouth and splashing into the toilet. My throat made a strange gurgling noise, and my breaths were hitched and rapid. Finally, when all of the substances of my stomach were emptied, I shakily grabbed the flushing lever and watched as a horrid concoction of meshed up colors spiraled down, disappearing with a satisfying clunk. Haha, I'm so funny. Clunk, klunk. As in poop. And it's a toilet. Never mind.

I lay there on the cool bathroom tiles, heaving in breaths of air. My arms and legs were trembling, either from vomiting or the terror of seeing Gally's dead body. The nightmare I had last night kept on replaying inside my head. I shuddered. The memory of it was still sharp in my mind. And it struck me as peculiar that Gally's neck was twisted 360 degrees around like the person I killed in my dream…

Gritting my teeth, I stood up. Wondering about stuff wasn't going to get anything done. I had to find out how Gally died. Not that I liked him very much in the first place. My father and mother both didn't like him very much, especially my father. He apparently has bad history with Gally. I personally think that his eyebrows are wacko and cool, but his personality is wacko and uncool. Gally was pretty nasty on a daily basis.

I slowly went down the stairs, dreading to see what havoc had occurred after I had rushed upstairs. I almost jumped out of my skin when I entered the living room. Gally's corpse was splayed on the couch, his face still frozen in that ghastly expression. I walked past the couches and to the kitchen door, determined to not look at the body.

I entered the kitchen with shivers running down my spine. Minho, Dad, and Mom sat at the dining table, discussing with whispers. All of their faces looked dead serious. Oh wow, I'm using such a cruel description considering the situation, but yes, they looked dead serious. Minho's hands were clasped around a mug of some steaming drink. They all quieted down and looked up when I came in.

Dad was the first one to speak up. "Hey, Terry, are you all right? You looked like you were about to vomit."

"Yeah, no kidding," I muttered. My mother opened her mouth, but I cut in before she could say a word.

"What is wrong with you guys? Leaving a corpse on the couch. I'm never sitting down on that couch again." I hated how my voice cracked at "corpse."

Mom sighed. "We're sorry, hon. But we couldn't just leave him outside."

"It's not even cold outside," I protested weakly. I think all three adults knew I was just trying to keep talking about unnecessary stuff so I wouldn't have to face the reality of the situation. I must seem ridiculous, complaining about the couch being dirty when somebody just died. I bit my lip.

"Just tell me what happened," I prompted, staring Minho down.

Minho looked down at his mug before meeting my eyes with a firm stare.

"I don't think you want to know," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "I can handle it, thank you very much."

"Hey, you had to go and vomit just at the sight of him, kiddo," Minho pointed out.

"Minho, tell her," Dad said gently. Minho looked like he was about to protest, but decided against it.

"Fine, I surrender," he said. "I had to go to his house to get some papers for work before the day started. I rang the doorbell a couple of times and waited for a few minutes, but he didn't answer. I decided to go back when a glimpse of clothing caught my eye. I rounded the side of the porch and found Gally lying there, already dead with his shuck neck twisted up. Freaked the living klunk out of me. Looked like he was thrown out a window. But a person must have gotten to his neck. No building, no matter how high, could twist a neck like that."

I stayed silent. I mean, how would you react to that information? I couldn't think of anything proper to say, so I just kept my mouth shut. Which is a first for me.

Mom was solemn. "We can figure out stuff about the murder later. For now, we have to bury Gally and pay our respects."

Minho slammed his fists on the table, rattling the mug. "What are you talking about? This means that a killer is on the loose. We have to find the killer before more people get shucking murdered. And I thought this place was happy-land." The last sentence was spoken in a bitter voice. He turned to Dad. "You with me, Thomas?"

Dad cleared his throat. "I agree we have to search and find out who killed Gally. We can't just let people do what they want. The killer has to be punished. But I also agree that we need to hold a small funeral for Gally. It won't take that long. Then we can get to work."

Mom nodded, looking relieved that Dad had agreed with her proposal. Minho's mouth quirked down in a scowl, but he showed his approval with a curt nod as well.

I took this as my cue to leave. I left the room without a word, barely glimpsing my father's acknowledging eyes. I stared intently at the floor as I walked through the living room, passing by the corpse. In the background, I heard my mother call to me. "Don't wake up Isaac and Charlie yet!"

As if I would wake up my little brothers and have them face this situation. It would scar them for life. And I was not planning on doing that to them.

After I got to my bedroom, I pushed the window shut carefully. Then I sunk into my bed. But I wasn't about to fall asleep. That might lead to more nightmares. For now, I'll just lay here.

~ Time skip~

So somehow I ended up just lying down and staring at the ceiling for 5 hours straight. Not the best quality time. But the adults got the funeral matter settled, and managed to get the corpse out of the house before Isaac and Charlie woke up. Kudos to them.

The funeral for Gally was apparently next Saturday. How they arranged that so fast, I don't know. But I can tell Mom and Dad have been occupied the past few days with trying to figure out why anyone would want to kill Gally. Scratch that, I think everybody wants to kill Gally, but who would literally go through with it?

Monday comes too fast. Mom cancels all of her classes that week, and everyday seems to pass by as a blur. I end up not even going to school for three days in a row. So much for the promise I made to Mom. Oh well. I don't think she even noticed. Minho completely turns down our practice matches, making my gloomy mood even worse. I understand why he doesn't want to do hand-to-hand combat though. Considering what happened, I shouldn't be complaining at all.

My only job for the past week was to keep Isaac and Charlie busy so they wouldn't realize what crisis had occurred. Isaac has incredibly sharp intellect, so I think he noticed that something was off about Mom and Dad and me. But he's smart enough not to ask. Charlie, on the other hand, doesn't realize anything is wrong at all and was childishly attempting to climb the walls like Spiderman yesterday.

Finally, Saturday comes after a tiring week. Not that I'm looking forward to the funeral. I might throw up again. Looking towards the positive side, I haven't had another nightmare since the incident, so I don't have to freak out while sleeping again.

While I'm changing, I hear the creak of my door. Mom comes into my room, probably to see what I'm going to wear to the funeral. She sighed when she saw I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Terry, you have to wear something more proper," she scolded.

I groaned. "This is proper. Do you want me to go naked?"

Mom looked me firmly in the eyes. I stared back. Without saying a word, she approached my closet and flung open the doors. She quickly sorts through my clothes, and finally comes out with a silky black dress that's about knee length. I almost screamed.

"You're going to make me wear a dress?" I asked, in a furious, shaky whisper.

My mother raised her eyebrows. "Yes. You can wear your black leather boots with them."

Okay, I love my boots, so maybe that's not bad. But still…

"No way."

Mom ignores my protest and throws the dress onto my bed.

"Wear it. I have to go get ready."

I grabbed her arm before she could leave, wanting to ask her he question that's been burning through my mind the whole week.

"Have you told Isaac and Charlie about it? Are they going to the funeral? Isaac's not dumb you know, he knows something's wrong," I blurted out.

Mom bit her lip. "I'm having them come to the funeral. I just told them Gally died. But that's all. They don't need to know the rest."

I frowned. "Isaac's going to push. He wants to know."

"Well then, don't tell him. Just say that Gally died and we're going to his funeral," Mom reasoned.

I suppressed a groan. Mom didn't know how difficult Isaac could get when he wants to be. He could be difficult with Mom and Dad, but with me, he doubles that amount.

"Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice level.

Mom's eyes softened. "Thank you." Then she left.

I was tempted to just rip the dress into pieces and throw it out the window, but I didn't want to distress Mom even more, so I put it on. Ugh, and it was one of those stupid spaghetti strap ones. At least it had no sparkly jewels on it or anything. I shoved my feet into my heeled black boots and combed out my brown hair. I sighed and stalked out the door, not even bothering to check my reflection in the mirror.

Instead, I went to Isaac's room. I opened the door without knocking, because it annoys the heck out of him. This time, though, he's more annoyed about something else than my bad habits.

Isaac stood there, looking very smart in his black suit. He crossed his arms and glared at me. I find it very hard to think he's only ten years old when he acts more mature than me and is at least 3 times more intelligent than me too.

I wasn't even allowed to start talking. "Why didn't you tell me that Gally died?" he prompted. "Is that why this entire week, you've been spending every single hour after school with Charlie and I? Just to amuse us so that we wouldn't know? I could tell that something felt wrong. I'm not stupid, you know. Mom and Dad have hardly been home at all! And fine, don't tell me right away, but to keep it from me until the funeral? Really? I can handle death, you know."

Let's just say I forgot to watch my words. "Izzy, you would definitely not be able to handle it. For shucking goodness sake, it sent me flying upstairs and vomiting. I can't even begin to imagine how you would react."

Isaac paused. "What's it?" he asked suspiciously. Whelp. Crap.

"Nothing," I said, a little too quickly.

"I don't believe you," was Isaac's immediate reply. I would be surprised if you did, I thought.

"The body. I saw the dead body, okay? And it made me vomit everything out of my stomach," I told him cautiously. Hey, at least I kept the part about how Gally was most likely murdered a secret.

Now Isaac looked frightened. I moaned inwardly. "Sorry, Izzy, I didn't mean to scare you, heck, I wasn't even supposed to tell you that, but don't tell Charlie, just make it through the funeral, sorry for not telling you, but seriously, you're only 10, and-"

Isaac cut my blabbering off. "Oh, come on, Terry. I thought you were the tough macho one. It's fine. I just hate being out of the loop. Tell me next time, okay?"

I heaved in a breath of air with relief, since I said all of that without taking a single break.

"I'm just hoping that there isn't a next time," I replied. Isaac nodded his consent.

"Come on, kids! We're going now!" Dad called from downstairs.

"Coming," Isaac muttered.

I gave him a strange look. "I still don't know how you think they can hear you when you use that volume of voice." Then, I screamed one word that would count for both my and my brother's reply.

"COMING!"

Isaac winced and glared at me. I ignored him and ran downstairs. Mom, Dad, and Charlie were already waiting at the front door. Isaac was close behind me.

My family clambered into the car, Charlie fussing about his seatbelt. Before we set off, Dad turned around and gave me a stern look.

"Behave yourself, Terry," he said, in quite a scary voice.

Now, other people would be surprised that Dad was telling me, a 12 year old who was the eldest child, to behave, but it was normal in this household.

"I always do," I said, a little too innocently. But I was seriously planning to behave myself, at least for a funeral, since death is no laughing manner. Of course, things never go as you want them to go, and at this certain occasion, things were unfortunately going to go horribly wacko.