Author's ramblings: Hi, guys! Third chapter is up and ready for you all to enjoy. Rate and review until your fingers burn off! (not really…that would be kind of gross)

~Eleanor

-X-

"So tell us, Erin," Agent Seeley Booth asked the ebony-haired teenager as they and Brennan sat down on a bench not too far away from where the marching band was rehearsing. "When was the last time you have seen Charles?"

She had an aura of fear and resentment that not even Bones could miss. She seemed to flinch at the sound of his name, as if the very resonance was a physical blow directed at her. There was no doubt about it; Erin truly hated the victim.

"I saw him last week," she mumbled, looking down to the floor. "Or rather, he saw me first."

"I take it you two didn't have a positive relationship," Brennan said, observing Erin shudder at the word "relationship".

"No," the girl said curtly. "I can't stand him."

"Would you mind explaining what happened to make you hate him so much?" the FBI agent asked softly. "Did he do anything to you?"

The girl, still holding her silver flute with care, looked up into Booth's eyes, desperation in her eyes. However, her face hardened before she asked, "Why are you asking me? What did he do?"

"We believe to have found his body in the park a couple blocks away," Brennan stated, showing no emotion.

"Oh, God," Erin whispered, turning toward the scientist, tears forming in her eyes. "Did… did he kill himself?"

"Actually, we think someone might have killed him," Booth mumbled, looking back into her eyes, "which is why we need to know what he did to you. Did he do anything to anyone else?"

The girl, after a moment's hesitation, finally nodded and whispered:

"…Charles Mason tried to rape me. It was at a carwash to raise money for the band. He… he asked me to strip for him, and when I said no, he tried to take off my shirt. I told Mr. Steward, my mom, my counselor, the dean, even the police officer that works here. He backed off for a month, but then he just kept following me, changing where he walks to class just to see me. He tried to talk to me, too. He said that he was sorry, he felt so guilty for what he did, but…"

"You couldn't forgive him," Booth said solemnly, completing Erin's sentence.

The girl nodded, and then continued. "Charles Mason wouldn't leave me alone, and then he started bothering my friends. I told my friends everything, agent Booth. They knew that there was something wrong with him. They knew he scares me, that I couldn't trust him. He would try to talk to us. Early this year, I got tired of it, and I told him to back off."

She hesitated.

"Later that day, during lunch, he tried to jump in front of a moving truck. His section leader tried to stop him, and Charles Mason almost punched him, but his leader called for help, and they took him to the dean's office. He didn't go to school for the rest of that week. I was called into the police officer's office, and she told me that the reason he tried to kill himself was because he realized all my pain if because of him, so he tried to kill himself so I wouldn't hurt anymore."

She chuckled softly, tears streaming down her face. "He didn't get it, though," she mumbled, her breathing ragged from resisting the urge to break down in front of the two professional FBI agents. "It would have only made me feel worse, agent Booth. I doubt I could possibly live with the guilt of being the reason someone died, even if they hurt me every day."

Booth nodded sympathetically, resting his hand on the fragile child's shoulder. "Erin, if you don't mind, I would like you to give me the names of your friend's he has had contact with, along with the name of his leader."

She nodded softly, staring at the disintegrating block. Band practice was over, and a group of students were gathering together, all looking her way and questioning what was going on. She pointed the group out.

"That group right there," she said softly. "There's Scott Lewis, Jane Chin, Kristi and Carrie Lee, Brandon White, and Tim Freud."

Her once raised finger sunk down to her side. "There's also Aria Dunham, but she is in show choir, not band. Charles Mason's section leader is Jim Castellanos. He was absent today."

"Thank you, Erin," Brennan said softly, trying to express sympathy towards the distressed teenager. "We'll be coming back to you if we need more answers."

-X-

As the two walked back to their SUV Bone's cell phone began to ring. She quickly took it out of her pocket and answered.

"Brennan," she said softly as she stepped into the passenger seat.

"We found cause of death," a static voice stated proudly.

"Who is it?" Booth asked his partner.

"It's Cam," she whispered in reply before talking back to Dr. Saroyan. "Was it one of the stab wounds found on the body's ribs?"

"No," Cam said back at the lab as she bent down to talk into the phone. "Actually, he was stabbed after he died. Wendell examined the remains and found that he suffered a large blow to the neck, breaking it and killing him before he hit the ground. The stab wounds were probably just to make sure he couldn't get back up."

She could hear the partners murmuring to one another, and then the phone was passed along to Booth.

"So, I take it we can rule out accidental homicide," the agent murmured gravely.

"Unfortunately," Dr. Saroyan mumbled, looking back at the rotten remains. "It's most definitely a murder."

"Great," Booth muttered, pressing the end button forcefully before grumbling to himself.

-X-

Author's ramblings (continued): Okay, so now that you have read this chapter, I should give you the reason why I am writing this .

My freshman year, I had a friend who had the same experience as Erin. She had a "Charles Mason" who sexually abused her, but he wasn't expelled because he has a mental disability. He went so far as tried to talk to her and her friends after every authority figure told him to not even LOOK at her. He even tried to kill himself to make HER feel better. Now, I love my friend to death, so the idea of her being hurt so badly pisses me off. But there's not much I can tell him, because nobody wants to be the blame of a suicide, or as this story calls for, a homicide. Now, some of the characters are based on our buddies, but after this chapter, things will get fictional. Realize the more I write, the less it will be based on our actual lives. You'll get me when I put up the next chapter.

Speaking of next chapter, I have to apologize, because now that school is here, I will be spending more time wasting my life on a lame book for English than actually writing what I want (those of you who favor Huckleberry Finn I apologize, but you don't have my English teacher .). But never fear! The weekend will come back again, and in between two research papers, a history essay, and band, I will write the next chapter, and I will post it next chance I get!!! *applause* so until then, rate and review.

~Eleanor