I watched tree after tree go by as Peter, Nathan, and I drove down the road that had just recently gotten some fresh, new, thick, tire tracks much earlier that morning. Nathan was driving, I was in the passenger seat and Peter sat in the back…of his own car. I had managed to make my face look a little less whore-ish and Peter changed back into "Jerome Johnson". I'm surprised he learned to control it so quickly. When I first found out I could change the way I looked, I would sneeze and my feet would grow an inch bigger. It took me a few weeks to learn how to control it.

Anyway, we pulled over behind my car that was melted to the gravel. We all got out and walked over to it.

"Oh man," Peter said as he bent down to look at my tires. "How are we going to explain this to the tow-truck company?"

"They were crappy tires?" I suggested.

"Crappy tires or not," Nathan said, "What kind of tires would melt by themselves as you're driving?

"Really, really hot tires," I replied as Nathan got out his phone and dialed three numbers. Peter had stood up and was looking in the window of the driver's side.

"Yeah," Nathan said into the phone. "Could I get the number of the car-towing service closest to Queens, New York?"

I looked over at Peter who had now had my door open and was reaching down near the brake pedal. I saw my trunk door pop open about an inch and Peter stood up straight and closed my door. He walked over to my trunk and opened the door all the way. Nathan tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I looked at him and he was covering the mouth piece with his thumb.

"Give yourself a tattoo," he said "since you don't have a pen."

I looked at him confused then understood when he started saying some random numbers. He uncovered the mouth piece and said, "Alright, thank you," and hung up.

I showed him my arm where I had "tattooed" the phone number of the car-towing place.

"Thanks," Nathan said as he typed the numbers into his phone. When he pressed send, I made the numbers disappear from my arm. Just then, Peter walked by carrying my large, lime green suitcase. He walked it over to his car and set it down by the trunk. As Nathan started talking to who ever picked up the phone, I walked over to my car and opened the driver's side door. I hadn't been able to grab my messenger bag/purse from the passenger seat. I crawled in, grabbed it, and then crawled out. I shut the door and looked inside the bag. Nothing seemed to be stolen. I got out my wallet and looked to see if my money and credit cards were still in there. I was surprised to find that they were because my car had been unlocked all day so far.

I took my bag over to Peter's car and threw it onto the front passenger seat, as he loaded my suit case into the trunk. Peter and I walked over to Nathan after we closed the doors of the car. Nathan hung up and said to me, "They'll be here in about fifteen minutes to pick up your car. I have to get Heidi her wheel chair, so when you two get to the automotive service building, I told them you'll be renting a silver Nissan Versa while they try to get the tires off your car and put new ones on."

"Thanks," I said as he walked over to his car.

"No Problem," he replied as he opened the driver's side door. He got in and started the car. There was just enough room between his car, mine and Peter's car for him to pull out.

After Nathan drove off, I opened Peter's trunk to get some clean clothes out of my suitcase, then crawled in the back seat and changed into a black and white striped shirt and a pair of my red, skinny corduroys. When I was finished, I got out of the car and waited with Peter.

"He's following us," he said. "We'll have to be extremely careful."

I nodded, and then we were both silent until the tow-truck arrived. The guys that came with it had Peter move his car so the truck could back in, in front of mine. They hooked my car to the back of the truck and moved the truck a few feet to get my tires unstuck. One of the guys questioned my tires and I said I had to pull over and leave my car there and when I came back the tires were melted. He laughed and went on pulling my car onto the truck.

We had followed the truck to the car place and the workers there said that they'd call when they were done messing with my car. They had no idea how long it would take to get my tires off.

I got my rental car and followed Peter back to my hotel. He rolled my suitcase up to my room as I carried my messenger bag. I stuck my key-card into the slot above the handle and the light, letting me know if the key worked or not, didn't blink green or red. I tried the handle, wondering if it did work, and the door swung open. The room was a mess. The curtains were torn, and the phone was on the ground, unplugged, and off the hook. The lamp that had been on the nightstand, was a puddle, and was dripping down the side. The blankets on the bed were all over the ground and I noticed a large piece of cloth laying up-side down on my bed. I slowly walked over to it and turned it over. It was one of Isaac's paintings. This one was a painting of my car and its melted tires, abandoned on the side of the road. As I was studying the painting, Peter had set my suitcase inside the door and walked over to the bathroom. He stopped at the door. I set the painting back down and turned around to face him. He was absolutely still, looking down, staring at a bloody towel lying on the tile floor of the bathroom. I walked over to him and saw a bunch more next to the bath tub.

"Oh…" I sighed in angry disappointment. "Please don't tell me…"

I slowly walked passed Peter and into the bathroom where the other pile of bloody towels was. My heart was racing again. I was so scared I felt like I was going to throw up. I took a deep breath, and with a shaking hand, I grabbed the shower curtain and whipped it open. I screamed when I saw what was lying at the bottom…well…who was lying at the bottom. I started freaking out and jumping around, while screaming and tears pouring from my eyes. Peter grabbed me and pulled me out of the bathroom.

"NO!" I screamed as he held me and tried to settle me down. After a few minutes, Peter set me on the bed next to the painting and walked into the bathroom to see for him self who it really was. He stood in the bathroom, once again, unable to move as he saw that it was Isaac lying dead with the top of his head cut off and no brain, in the bathtub.

Just as an FYI, the next chapter might be the last. Sorry about Isaac. :..(