A/N: Phew... Next chapter done... It's slightly longer than the rest, but only by a couple pages. Not too bad. And I updated quicker, so here you go... And I've just gotta say quickly, thank you all for all of the reviews I continue to get. If I haven't said that already, I'm saying it now with a HUGE emphasis. I never expected these reviews to come in with every chapter, so this is a pleasant surprise. And each varied review, I enjoy seeing people's different reactions to them. But anyways, on the show... er... story..
Disclaimer: Turns face away with arms crossed stubbornly. Look at the other chapters. Evil lawyers finally chase me down. All right all right! I don't own them! Yeesh!
Chapter 6: Memories
After the car ride and Brooke's questionable, yet ingenious plan, I found myself homeward bound. The plot ran over and over in my mind, and though it didn't suit me as the person I am now, I found that I just didn't care. I had left Foster Child Sara Sidle with the foster houses, but it was about time she came back out.
Giving Brooke the directions to my apartment complex, I sat back and enjoyed the ride now that she was back to her normal blood pressure. But I couldn't turn away the obvious gut feeling that the drive-by was directly related to Brooke's previously anxious behavior. I forced the thought of my sister being caught up in that mess for the time being. It was all circumstantial evidence as far as I was concerned.
"This your place?" Brooke's voice shook my short thought train off its tracks.
Directing my vision from out my window to out Brooke's and noticed the all too familiar Tudor House Apartments. I could only manage a silent nod as I began to get out, preparing myself for another lonely night.
Just as I was walking across the street, throwing a quick "See you later" over my shoulder to my sister, I heard a car door slam shut and hurried footsteps catching up to me. Looking at my side, I saw Brooke walking in step with me up to my apartment.
Going up the never-ending flights of stairs, we arrived on the fifth floor. The elevator would've been easier, minus the fact that it has been broken beyond repair for several years now. Some of the heavier tenants had all boarded the elevator at once on a hot summer's day, and several of the supposedly durable cables snapped like twigs. Had the situation not been as serious as it actually was, I might've laughed at the idea of six people being stuck on an elevator for about five hours.
Laughing now inwardly, I unlocked the door to my apartment and pushed it open, walking in some before flicking on the light near the door. My small apartment lit up as if it were presenting something grand, but it was only what it was. A long plush couch with an armchair on either side of the couch in front of a T.V., and a glass coffee table that stood in between the furniture and T.V. directly in the middle of the small living room. Behind the couch, with the limited space that there was, my computer set was stationed up against the wall beside the entrance to my hallway. Beside the computer in the corner of the room was a bookcase or two filled completely with books, ranging from philosophy, forensics, entomology, and regular reading books. The majority of the books were on forensic science, and only a small portion were entomology, gifts from Grissom ever since I'd met him in Harvard.
I crossed from the carpeted area which was the living room to the linoleum tile floor of the kitchen, which was divided from the living room by a breakfast island. I tossed my keys next to my cordless phone, where they'd found a home over the years.
Just then, I heard the familiar creak of the armchair that I knew was nearest to the door as Brooke hopped over the back of the chair and took a seat.
"You waste no time in making yourself comfortable." I noted with a quick smile as I walked over to my refrigerator and removed two water bottles.
"If comfort won't come to me, I'll go to it." Brooke shrugged as I tossed her the water bottle and went to lay down on the long sofa.
I let out a soft chuckle as I plopped down and opened the bottle up to take a long sip of it. Out of the corner of my eye, to none of my surprise, Brooke chugged the whole bottle within the minute. As I placed mine down on the coaster on the table, I couldn't help but laugh at Brooke as she let out the loudest burp ever.
"Oh that was classy, Brooke!" I exclaimed as Brooke capped the bottle and laid it in her lap with a small grin on her face.
"Yup, that's just me. The secret's out! I'm Ms. Classy with a capital Br, take out the Cl." Brooke seeped deeper into the chair.
We allowed several minutes of relaxed silence to pass before Brooke spoke up again. "Hey Sizz? I was thinking yesterday, what happened to all those old video tapes and pictures of us growing up? I know we didn't leave much back at the old house, and I don't think I have them, so that only leaves you." Brooke inquired me with puzzled eyes.
It took a second for the understanding to click with me and the comprehension made me jump off the couch immediately, taking a stroll down the hall toward my barely used closet just before my bedroom door.
"I'll take that as a yes..." Brooke said with a small grunt as she got off the chair and followed me down the hallway.
Opening the door, which creaked worse than anything else in this apartment, a stale smell instantly assailed my sense of smell that brought about a coughing fit from myself momentarily. As Brooke stood behind me, far away enough to not get the full effect of the musty odor, I trudged through to reach up to the top shelf where a brown box sat in its prolonged lonely state. Lowering the box carefully so I wouldn't lose my grip to have it fall on me, I had Brooke shut the door as I carried the heavy box back to the living room.
Walking around the couch while Brooke took the easier route of jumping over the back, I set the box down on the table and opened it up. Brooke inhaled deeply as the musty smell wouldn't leave the box and exhaled happily with a smile.
"I love that smell." She claimed as she helped me open the taped box.
After a few more coughs, I managed to get out in a strained voice with a slightly accusing stare, "Weirdo."
Once it was opened, we simply could only stare at the contents that could be considered ancient relics by now. Dust had collected upon the top of the photo albums and other objects. Taking out the first one, I used my sleeve to remove the dust to inspect the almost preserved cover.
With a smooth brown leather cover, the rectangular photo album had gold edges on all four corners. In the center of the cover, there was a picture of myself and Brooke as young children, no more than ten and five. We were sitting on a wooden arch bridge that went over the small river that used to run through the park this picture was taken in. I recalled it was the park that Brooke and I played in most often as it was only a few blocks away from where we lived in Brooklyn, New York. In the picture, we had our feet dangling over the edge, gently skimming the cool water and looking down at our reflections with an innocent interest. The picture was bordered in small golden flowers with the phrase, "The times we remember best are times we spend together." arching over the top and bottom of the picture in perfect cursive, and also in gold.
A secret smile snuck across Brooke's, as well as mine, mouth as we both recalled our foster father's, Scotty, hobby. He enjoyed making photo albums much like this one, as well as taking pictures to fill them with. My hand glided across the leather cover with the same awe I had when Scotty had presented it to me all those years ago. I remembered I had ogled at it with amazement of his handicraft and Brooke had done the same. And as he kept making them, the more astonished we became as his work only got better and better.
The Crooks had been the best foster parents I experienced in my ten years of foster care. They were also my first. So every foster home after them, I always expected the next to be just like them, or even better. But I was always disappointed when it only got horribly worse. The Crooks were also the longest lasting home I had. In that home, I'd stayed from age eight to age fifteen or early sixteen. The remaining two or three years, I made a record of switching between anywhere from ten to twenty different homes because of my "lack of obedience". In truth, all I wanted was those four people I considered my family; Scotty, Jasmine my foster mother, Jason my foster brother, and Brooke.
But life has proven periodically that it likes to throw curve balls at you every so often. Sometimes I just begin to wonder if I'm getting curve balls every other pitch.
Opening to the first page, I saw the inscription typed by a typewriter in the middle of a completely blank page.
"To my loving daughters and crazy son, may these peaceful memories be with you no matter what challenges you face in the future."
"I remember, they were the only foster parents that would ever consider me their daughter." I heard Brooke's soft voice from beside me. "Everyone else just treated me like I was some freak, but not the Crooks. They actually treated me like I was blood family."
"Yeah, same here..." I comment just as quietly, not wanting to ruining the silence too badly.
Flipping the page, we saw the small first page of pictures, three on top, and three on the bottom going in two rows. Scotty had always gone for the old time look, so an aged look was apparent in the photos he took. A brownish color that looked as if each picture had been nipped around the edges with fire.
The first picture was one of the first pictures of me when I'd first arrived at the foster house. When I was just getting used to everyone in the house and how they acted. Well, it was more like I was adjusting to Brooke and her overly expressive personality. She was the wildest out of the bunch, to no one's surprise. In the picture, I was standing in the doorway between the foyer of the house and the living room, leaning up against the frame with my small, flimsy arms crossed against my chest with the most forced smirk I'd ever given. As petty a matter as it was, I was very aggravated at Brooke, who was hanging off the fan on the ceiling in the background. Not only had she ransacked my room for candy that I didn't even have and trashed it in the process, but she'd also taken the last Sea-Salt Ice Cream! It was my favorite flavor! Brooke was just about to cross the line and my last nerve.
Brooke laughed a nonchalant laugh as she analyzed the first picture as well. "I remember that was five minutes just before we got in our first official 'fight'. I was wondering when you were gonna break!"
"You did all of that on purpose? You brat..." I scoffed at her.
"Hey, don't feel bad! I did it to Jason too. He was easier than you though. Of course, he was only a little toddler. All I had to do was take his favorite toy away and he'd get mad." Brooke snickered. "I did that to find out where my limits were to get you really mad. For you, it took bustin' up your room, accusing you of hiding candy, getting the last bit of your favorite ice cream, and then walking by and yanking out a hair or smacking you on the back of the head."
I could only manage an incredulous look because no words that I could think of would get the same message across.
"What about that next one?" Brooke asked, attention immediately back to the book.
I stared at the three little children in the picture and saw the sadly bored expressions written plain across their faces. It was myself, Brooke, and Jason. We were sitting on the stairs of the porch in the front of the house in a row. We were putting our chins in our right hands as our elbow propped our arms up on our right knee. Even little Jason, who was little over three years old was mimicking Brooke and myself.
This picture had been taken several pictures after the first one, and Brooke's relationship with me had gotten better and better by the day. That day, I was troubled with the thoughts of my Mother in the mental institution. So I had gone to the porch steps to sort out my problems. Brooke had seen my depressed state and came to sit down with me, mimicking my stance. Jason soon followed and impersonated the same posture. Scotty thought it would be a "cute Hallmark picture" so ran to get the camera and took the picture. As Scotty was taking the picture, Jasmine, our foster mother, had snuck up behind us and looked as if she was going to attack us like a bear. After Scotty had took the picture, I recall Jasmine swooping down and encasing us all into her petite arms and tickling us all.
A quick glance at Brooke and her staring back at me, we didn't need to talk about the memory. It didn't need any words.
And the pictures just continued on and on. Countless happy memories spawned from the pictures which brought on more smiles from myself. Subconsciously, I was thanking Brooke over and over for coming back and finding me. Before yesterday, it was so uncharacteristic for me to even give a half smile without being sarcastic or having to force it. But it was just something about the young woman that couldn't stop me from smiling. I was beginning to like having the ability to smile more. I felt like the old Sara Sidle again.
At last getting to the end of the large photo album, I closed it and placed it back in the box. Brooke was now snooping through the box, moving thing around until she finally found what she had been looking for. She pulled out a single VHS tape and had a mischievous smile on her lips. It was only when I read the inscription of what the tape contained.
The Documentaries of Brooke and Sara... I read to myself
"I knew you had it. C'mon! We gotta watch it! We gotta, gotta, gotta!" Brooke said imitating a sugar high child.
Exhaling noisily, I took the tape from the bouncing woman and walked to the T.V. to insert it for Brooke's viewing pleasure. Grabbing the remote from right beside the VCR, I maneuvered my way back to the couch and sat down as Brooke plopped down next to me, overly eager. One quick glance at Brooke and I pushed play on the VCR after turning the T.V. on.
"Brooke! Brooke! Get down from that fan before you break it and it falls! Then you'll be the one that'll fix it!" Jasmine yelled from the living room, the camera coming from her point of view. Scotty took the pictures, Jasmine took the videos.
"That's just so heartwarming to know that you're only concerned about your fan! What about me? What if I fall and hurt my poor ankle?" Brooke asked sarcastically as I slowly came walking into the living room after my picture was taken.
"Well, it would be your fault for doing it. Now get down before I have to come over there." Jasmine said as she advanced to where I sat.
Letting go, Brooke landed on her feet with barely any noise made. The camera was now being directed from the chair that was right beside the small couch I was sitting on. It slowly zoomed into my face as I exhaled softly and laid back to get comfortable.
"C'mon Baby Girl! Smile for the camera! Stop acting like you don't know the camera loves you!" Jasmine said in a sweet voice as my face turned toward the camera, trying to put on a show for it to pass for 'I'm okay'.
A meek half smile was given and I turned back to my original task of relaxing. Jasmine's soft chuckle was heard as the camera sought out Scotty as he appeared in the doorway I'd just come through. He had his head in his hand and was leaning up against the frame, just a few inches shorter than the doorway. He was shaking his head and giving his ear-to-ear grin at the same time. When he looked up, he looked at the camera, or at least to Jasmine who was behind the camera. He pointed back in the direction that I was and walked away snickering. The camera's view flew back over but then snagged on the sight of Brooke, even shorter than she was today but at the time, was just as big as I was. Despite being only about six or close to seven. A sly smile slid across her full lips as she moved stealthily behind me and swiftly grabbed a strand of hair and plucked it from my sensitive scalp, while smacking me in the back of the head.
I shot forward and covered my head with my hands protectively, rubbing the injured spot gingerly. A sour appearance showed up on my face a moment later as I death glared Brooke as she walked toward the kitchen behind the camera and Jasmine. I rolled my eyes just as the camera focused back on Brooke who was now in the kitchen and was visibly witnessed getting a cup of water filled a small bit. It was plain to see that the water wasn't for drinking as Brooke made her way back to the living room. Yet the camera remained stationary as Brooke walked up behind me and poured the water over my head.
A gasp escaped me as I jumped up from my seat, shook from my relaxed state. Turning around, I looked down as the water dripped onto my clothes, a white V-neck shirt and khaki pants, and got them wet as well. Next I looked up at Brooke who stood on the other side of the couch laughing manically, clutching her stomach and pointing at me tauntingly.
"Oh yeah, there was also the water thing... Haha... Look at your face! It's getting so scrunched up with anger..." Brooke spoke up. "Priceless."
"Shh!" I commanded sharply as I returned to the tape.
Behind the camera, you could hear Jasmine's voice say softly to herself, "Uh oh Brooke. You're gonna get it now. The initiations are done now..."
And a quick look at my face could clarify what that meant, the anger visibly rising to my face quickly. I was fed up and only one thing was on my mind right now... Revenge.
Jumping up on the couch, I bounced before I lunged at Brooke and knocked us both down to the floor yelling in anger at the younger child. Jasmine stood up to get a better visual on our "fight". There weren't even punches being thrown, it was just the two of us trying to pin the other person down. On first impact with Brooke, we both backrolled so we were now in the foyer of the house. When the backrolling stopped, I had Brooke pinned down by her biceps with a furious look on my face. Brooke's face remained slightly shocked, but mostly smug. Then the struggle just began from there.
Managing to free her legs from my knees trying to pin them down, she positioned her feet against my stomach and kicked me off of her as Brooke backrolled into a standing position. I had charged at her and as I neared her, she ducked down and I slid across her bent back and headbutted the couch's back. Brooke threw herself on top of me with her small "battle cry" and pinned me down as I was recovering from my slight headache.
Once I was well again, I rolled over so that I pinned her down now, and we continued to roll over on each other until we were out in the foyer once more. Then Chaos, our crazy but loveable pitbull, came racing down the stairs barking at Brooke and me, plowing right between us in an attempt to break up the fight. Both Brooke and I scurried from our positions back to each other, wrestling with each other to try and pin the other again. All the while, Jasmine moved in closer and got a close up as Brooke hoisted me up and over her shoulder and dragged me toward the door as I scurried out of her grip with easy. She was the strong one while I was the flexible one that could get out of tight spots with ease.
Now behind her, I swiftly reached around her and opened the door as I tackled her again, grabbing her ponytail with one hand and sitting on her back, restraining her hands with the other. Chaos ran up beside us and barked playfully at us before leaping in front of Brooke and licking her face feverously making her sputter and cough from the dog saliva getting in her mouth.
Jasmine moved around to where Chaos was and filmed Brooke, Chaos, and me with Scotty walking down the hall toward the fiasco with Jason in his arms balanced on his hip. Jason wriggled wildly in his arms at the sight of Brooke, Chaos, and me. Scotty had no other choice but to let him down. The excited three-year-old ran as fast as his chubby legs would permit him to down the hall and toward us all on the porch. The albino toddler approached Brooke and tripped, falling in front of me and on Brooke's back. I assisted the toddler as he tried to sit on Brooke's back as well. He soon scooted up so that he could reach around to Brooke's face and put his index and middle finger into Brooke's mouth to pull her lips back so that it appeared as if she was smiling.
At this point, the anger had left my body completely and I was smiling for the first time since I was about five or six. From the look on my face, I jumped at the feel of the smile as my hand that was holding down Brooke's hands raised slowly to my lips to feel them as if they were something I'd never known about before. Slowly, another smile appeared underneath my fingertips and I yelped as Chaos suddenly turned on me. He leapt at me, knocking me off and then pinned me down before sitting on my chest to shower me with his kisses over and over.
"Get Sara!" Brooke announced enthusiastically.
Brooke scurried to help the overgrown dog keep me pinned as I tried to get him off me before I drowned in his slobber. Brooke tossed herself on top and started the pile as Jason soon followed suit. Scotty, forever being the overgrown child at heart, joined the pile that was depressing me into the porch's floorboards. But I soon busted into laughter as Jason reached for my ticklish spot, which was technically everywhere since I was a very ticklish person. Soon enough, Jasmine had even set the camera down on the railing and joined in on the "Tickle Sara" festival.
"Hey! No tickling me! Stop!" Brooke suddenly whined in the midst of my hysterical laughter and my "family's" chuckles of amusement.
Now there was a mixture of Jasmine, Scotty, Jason, and Chaos tickling both Brooke and me. As I squirmed out of the pile, I yanked Brooke out with me to give her a helping hand.
"Whaddya say we get 'em, Sizz?" The younger girl asked with a confident smirk.
Giving a smirk back, I nodded as we both attacked the other four now, so everyone was tickling everyone.
"I'm telling you... You were psycho back then! The way you attacked me off that couch. You were a bigger version of a flying squirrel!" Brooke said as we watched the constant tickling attack go on between the family on the screen.
"Well, what'd you want me to do? Just sit there and dump water on me?" I asked with a shrug.
A quick nod came from her. "Yeah, basically."
Fast forwarding slightly just to get to the next part, which would be a few days from then if my memory was correct. We continued to sit back, watch, and revel in this memories that felt like ancient history.
The camera's view started off from the far corner of the living room so that it had a full view of what went on within the entire room.
Music could be heard throughout the house as Brooke turned up the music system even higher with her tape in the cassette player. This was definitely another difference between Brooke and myself. Growing up in a Bed & Breakfast with hippie parents dragged me into listening to their music. Brooke, on the other hand, was a native to Brooklyn's Negro ghettos where their songs expressed their lifestyles. And when you compared the two types of music to each other, they were completely different in every aspect imaginable. One was about love, peace, and unity while the other was about drug dealers on the block, crooked police, and "keeping it real with the homies".
1, 2, 3, into the four
Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the door
Ready to make and entrance so back on up
'Cause you know I'm 'bout to rip shit up
Gimme the microphone first so I can bust like a bubble
Compton and Long Beach together
Now you know you in trouble...
"Brooke, do you have to put your music up so loud?" I screamed over the system as I walked closer to her from my previous position on the couch in the living room.
"Yup. Wouldn't be as good as if it wasn't." Brooke said as she moved away from it.
"You know the neighbors won't like this, and they'll complain to Scotty and Jasmine when they get home." I told her with my hands on my hips.
"Oh well... Ain't like it killing them!" Brooke shrugged with no concerns of what Mr. and Mrs. Townsherd would say to our parents about Brooke's music.
As Brooke walked into the kitchen to either grab something to drink or eat, I began to listen to the awkward beat and began to move just as awkwardly to the beat, trying to dance in time with it. But even I could tell it wasn't working. But I apparently didn't sense that Brooke had appeared back from the kitchen. Her mouth was wide open with horror and movement was non-existent once her eyes fell upon my pathetic figure that was clumsily moving around the room, in a sad attempt to dance to this music.
"Oh... my... God..." There was a cringe in her face as she watched a moment longer
I jumped at the sound of the younger girl's voice and looked back at her before turning my face away to try and hide my slight embarrassment.
"You dance like a white girl!" Brooke said in awe as she walked in and set the water down next to the stereo.
"Incase you haven't noticed yet, I am a white girl." I tried to not lose all of my dignity and pride.
"Well, that just became more clear..." Brooke said sarcastically. "Wow... Now I know why you don't dance much... It's 'cause you can't!"
Trying to not feel the embarrassment again, I stood up straighter with a defiant look on my face now. "Okay, well show me what you consider 'dancing'." I challenged.
"A'ight... You want me to break you off with a lil' something?" Brooke asked smugly, not even truly seeking an answer.
Before I couldn't even blink, Brooke began her interpretation of "dancing". It was what everyone now knew as "breakdancing" and "Cript Walking". My face showed pure amazement as Brooke Cript Walked across the carpet before she wound up and spun around to mimic Michael Jackson and then jumped up and landed straight on the tips of her toes. While on her toes she bent down like she was crouching and began swinging her right leg around until her little body was up in the air, spinning around with her legs open in a V shape. Brooke popped off the ground several times to roll in the air before getting on the ground and continuing her breakdancing. Finally, just when I thought my eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, she didn't cease to amaze me. Brooke made a quick transition from the swinging of the legs to a completely still one-hand handstand with her other hand grabbing her sneakers as she made her feet touch her head. Slowly, she pumped her legs in the air and now she was jumping up and down on her hand that was holding her up. After that, she jumped once more and pushed backwards so she landed back on her feet again.
"THAT'S... how you dance." Brooke said complacently.
I was stricken speechless as I watched Brooke take a long sip of her water. Suddenly, I saw something flick through her eyes as she looked toward the camera. It was surprise.
"What the...?" Brooke asked to the atmosphere as she advanced toward the camera, confusion and surprise in her eyes.
Reaching through what turned out to be a plant, Brooke took out the camera and inspected it.
"Shit! It's recording!" Was all Brooke said as she shut it off.
"Haha... You were so busted for swearing that day." I said as I looked over at Brooke. "They didn't even care about the fact that you had practically made us deaf with your music. Just that you swore."
"Eh... But then they complimented on my mad dance skills." Brooke said with a smile.
"You were talented. You certainly taught me that there was a workout in dancing. Remember? Later that night I asked you to teach me..." I shook my head to myself.
"You woke up the next morning with more injuries than a crash test dummy! You nearly fell down the stairs because you were so stiff! You were walking like you were an illegal penguin smuggling drugs!" Brooke just had to remind me...
I could almost feel the same pain I had went through that morning when I woke up. Instant pain...
Brooke soon sat upright with alert and looked over at me with a smirk. "I do believe something is vibrating in my pants."
I rolled my eyes as she stood up and took her cellphone out from her pocket and read the ID caller. With a small frown, she answered it. "Hey... What's up?" She waited several seconds. "Are they all right?" Worry grew on her face. "Are you all right?" An angry sigh escaped her as she got a reply from her caller. "Hey, calm down... Stop worrying about him... I told you he wasn't worth your sweat and tears, but do you listen? Nope..." Another sigh. "I know... I'm sorry. It's just your as stubborn as I am. Listen, do you want me to go over there now? Secure the place?" A quick nod was given. "All right... You know the drill... Shut the windows, limited the number of lights on, and lock all of the doors. And I'll be there in ten." A small but sad smirk emerged. "Yeah, I know its usually twenty, but you know since it's me it's half the time when I'm on wheels." The serious face was back again. "I promise I'll be careful. All right. Sit tight. Be there in ten. Later." And then the hang up.
With the video on pause, I looked up at her with worry as well. Was there truly an abusive person in Brooke's life, at least indirectly?
"Is everything okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, yeah... Nothing to worry about. My friend's got some man problems right now. He's good to her when he wants to be, but can be the nastiest person when you get a substance into his system." Brooke said with a heavy sigh and a shrug. "I'm sorry, Sara, but this is important. I have to go... Maybe we could pick this up some other time?"
Trying to shake the worry from my mind, I gave a fake smile for her. "Sure... Later... Just get done what you need to get done. And be careful."
"Geez, don't get all preachy and motherly on me now!" A bright smile crossed her face as she advanced toward me, leaning down, grabbing the back of my head gently before kissing the top of my head. "Don't worry about me. I've always been able to hold my own."
Brooke backed up and headed toward the door, opening it before she exited. She must've looked back at me... I couldn't tell, I had my head looking downward, realizing that I was about to face another lonely night again after all. But she spoke up from leaning against the door's frame.
"Are you gonna be okay?" She asked in a concerned fashion.
"Yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I be?" I looked up and noticed she was still here.
"Dunno... You just kinda had that disappointed and sad look on your face there for a moment." Brooke shrugged.
"I'm fine. I'll call you tomorrow Brooke." I assured her, even if I wasn't assuring myself.
"Okay... Well, I'm outta here. Peace Sizzle B.!" She called as she shut the door.
Half smirking, I got up about a minute later and walked to the sliding glass door that gave me access to my very small deck. Going outside and looking over, I witnessed as Brooke jogged across the street and jumped into the car. Several seconds later, she was speeding back down the road, leaving behind skid marks in the road.
Returning to my couch after shutting the door, I took a moment of quiet for myself as I continued to watch the video. It wasn't nearly as interesting to watch them, I found, now that I was alone. Sitting alone and half living the old memories in silence... I found myself wishing I was back in that house now, back at that time period where everything was at least slightly simpler...
But memories are memories... And that's all they are.
TBC...
A/N2: All right then. There's the chapter! Let me know what you think! Oh yeah, and if anyone can guess what that song was that Brooke & Sara were listening to, I will grant you any wish as long as it is legal and within my realm of possibility to do. P But now I feel the need to answer the reviews from the previous chapter...
El Gringo Loco: That's always within the realm of possibility to happen... Are you sure I wasn't already considering that? Lol... With me writing this story, almost anything is possible. ;-)
forensicsgirl97: Phew! You have given me, by far, the longest review yet! But what did I expect from you? And no worries about Lady Heather... You just sit back, continue reading, and let ME handle that lil'... Well, I won't put any words what I feel about her here... That just wouldn't be appropriate. And you think Brooke is "crazy"? Well, you're only partly right! And you'll see how this affects Sara's "evilness" in later chapters. And now, now! Are we getting a lil' antsy to wish death and illness upon a certain domanatrix that neither of us can stand? And bush-jumping is fun! Very! Lol, talk to you later...
GrissomGroupie77: I'm very glad your love has grown for this story. It'll be good to have you as a regular reviewer. A self-esteem boost is called for every once in a while. And I mean that with everyone! Haven't gotten one flame yet! And here's more, just to feed your addiction. C'mon! Eat it up, eat it up! Lol, and BTW, I love your name! GrissomGroupie77... Haha, ok randomness is over with.
dark-girl-faith-sidle: Once again, I love your name. It's just plain awesome. But anyways, thank you for the nice reviews. And to answer your question, why are those guys after Brooke? Well, okay, I lied. I can't say right now. But I promise everything will become perfectly clear before the end of the story. And yeah, I talk from experience with the whole stitching your own hand back together... It does kill, let's just say that much at the least. It's no fun to stitch your hand back together, people! Audience: Yes Captain Obvious!
dakota11: Thank you for the review. At least I know I'm doing something right by hooking some people to this story! Keep your reviews up, please, and I'll keep updating.
Okay peoples... This is the end now. I'll keep updating later. Right now, I'm out.
Peace out, one love,
MC New York