5

It was my third week at that dastardly, dastardly place.

Lou still hadn't stopped following me, Marcus still gambled away objects of personal hygiene from my crate, Nick kept telling me about his girlfriend who is "obviously" screwing checkout-counter guy back in Springfield … and Numba One kept hitting on me.

"You're just not my type dude. I'm a dude, and you're a dude… and it just won't work… cause dude, I'm not really into dudes…"

He winked slyly at me. "Yeah… what a waste of that sexy little Y-chromosome you got."

Numba One ends up getting out of Greenlake in about a year. He marries a rich, but slightly psychotic widow. He later has a spicy affair with his eighteen-year old pool boy, Paolo and leaves his wife whilst she is pregnant with a boy. The woman becomes a drug addict and quickly empties her gigantic bank account after her heroin and gambling addiction. The son, Ricky, becomes a juvenile delinquent and the mother kills herself.

Numba One gives me another wink, and steps out of the tent with a healthy, thankful smile.

"I love life!" he exclaims whilst adjusting his crotch.

I shake my head at his stupidity and smile at Wilson —or what's left of him—and sigh.

Although he never stopped scaring the shit out of me, and there was something very, very evil about him, I was so very much attached to it—and I think the strangest part is that I think it was the evil itself in Wilson that had drawn me to its hollow, decomposing little corpse.

"God hates you," he said cheerfully with his see-through black beetle eyes.

I looked up to see that Nigel—OH FOR GOD'S SAKES, MARION, IT'S NICK! NICK!—was staring at me in the strangest way. His mouth was shaped in such a way that his face was melting and a waxy little frown was moving down his face.

"You look different," he said.

"Different, how?"

"It's like there's a shadow following you wherever you go. Your eyes look darker and- you look really old."

I snorted. "That's because I am beautiful no matter what they say. And I am beautiful in every single way."

Nick nodded, seeming to understand. "Words can't bring you down."

"So don't you bring me down today."

It took more than twelve hours for me to finish my hole. I held in my pee the whole time because somehow the prospect of relieving my bladder in the middle of a desert where a rattlesnake can jump up and make me sterile with just one bite, did not appeal to me.

It just didn't.

The old, rickety Walker car arrived just as Nick was spitting into the hole he had just finished. We all knew what that meant.

"I wonder what he did to get here," Nick said, although I could tell he was thinking about something else. He seemed distracted that whole day.

Numba One licked his lips hungrily.
"It's probably another delicious man- I MEAN GIRL!" the last word he said was squeaked out of him, and he put his head down immediately, avoiding the petrified stares of his Greenlake comrades.

The small, black car looked incredibly out of place in the dry, cracked scenery as it slowly, but surely tottered our way instead of going towards the Warden's house first. Although he had finished digging his hole, Nick stayed curiously behind. The only person who kept digging was Marcus.

Old man Walker stepped out of his car, looking either constipated or very pleased with himself.

He looked into the back seat and said, "Well come on. I ain't going to open the door for ya. This ain't a girl scout camp."

The door shyly opened, and a fragment of a pale face peered out into the harsh sun.

"Say hello to your fellow hell-members."

"Hello," said a soft, dark voice.

"This here's Tommy—"

"Thomas," said the voice from inside the car again.

"Tommy here is not getting any special treatment… no matter what he thinks," said the old man.

I wonder what he meant by that.

"Well, git out, boy. The longer ya take, the later it's gonna be when ya finish yer hole."

The small car door widened and two small feet stepped out.

Tommy couldn't have been more than fourteen. He had huge, black eyes and a face that looked quite pale and sick. In his hand he held a small dinosaur toy with a broken leg—a stegosaurus.

"Whachoo got there, little boy? Is it a toy from your mommy?"

The old man chuckled at Marcus's comment like a playground bully.

What an idiot.

Marcus made a grab for it, but Tommy protectively hugged it close to his chest. He had the body of a ten-year old and the face of a tired old man.

"It's my little brother's dinosaur."

There was something about the way he said it that made Marcus shut up.

The old man put a dirty hand on Tommy's perfectly clean shoulder. His clothes seemed very expensive, but extremely GAY.

"Tommy here started a fire in the back yard that killed his little brother." The boy winced at the words and kept his eyes down.

"His parents don't know what to do with him, so guess who decided to take Tommy under their wing out of the kindness of their hearts?" He spat into a crack in the ground, and pushed Tommy towards me.

"Here. Now yer not such a sissy of the group, ain't ya?"

"Your grammar is revolting," I said, and handed Tommy the shovel that Nick had finished using. He was already heading back to camp, and didn't seem to be interested in our new tent member. In fact, there seemed to have been some resentment from Nick towards the new kid…

The old man was heading back to the car, and Tommy stood next to me, staring expectantly.

Crap, what do I do?

"Umm…here. This is shovel," I said slowly, making sure he understood my big-people words, "You dig hole."

He stared at me still, and the dinosaur looked at me with the exact same expression.

"Go now. Go." I said to him.

He obediently took the shovel from my hands and began digging. However, he did not let go of the dinosaur.

"It helps if you put yer stupid toy down," Marcus said.

Tommy ignored him and continued to diligently dig his very first hole. There was a glint of determination in his black eyes.

The new kid finished his hole at nine o'clock pm.

I couldn't bring myself to leave him alone in the desert so I dug very slowly, pretending to be in great pain.

Marcus had finished his hole and was already back at the tent.

It was only Tommy, me, and the creature from my worst nightmares…

"Wass wrong, sweet cheeks?" Numba-One asked.

"I broke a nail," I lied.

"Don't waste your time with the new kid. You don't have to slow down for him. I mean—dude, did you even hear what old-man-Walker said? He killed his little brother! He set him on fire!" Numba One flailed his arms around.

"Can you fucking quiet down? He's right there, you idiot. And He didn't set his brother on fire. He just happened to have started a fire that scorched his brother alive."

There was a sniffle, and then a quiet sob.

We both looked over Tommy's direction. He was leaning over his shovel and covering his face, crying.

His dirty clothes were beige from the dust, and the light of the setting sun made his skin look even sicker.

"You made him cry," Numba One said.

We both stared at him as he helplessly sobbed quietly to himself.

"Go over there and make him stop," I said, "Say something about his cheeks."

"Cheeks?"

"Whatever. You know what? Get the fuck out of here before you make him kill himself. Go!"

Numba-One walked guiltily away. Dragging his shovel behind him.

I tried to continue digging, but the kid just wouldn't shut up. His sobs were so pitiful and lonely that eventually I couldn't stand it anymore.

I walked up to him.

"Excuse me, what the hell is your problem?"

He didn't look up.

"Can you stop crying? Please?" I said maybe a little too desperately.

"I didn't—" he choked.

"I'm sure you didn't," I said, not even knowing what he was talking about.

"I didn't kill my brother."

I shook my head in pity. Although I hated people in general, somehow, all the pity that I never felt went out to the poor kid.

I patted him awkwardly on the back. "Listen, you're just wasting time. And you should stop crying now, so….. umm… stop crying.

"Stop crying right now."

He didn't stop.

"Listen, the sun is going down—"

"You don't understand!" His sullen ,quiet aura disappeared to be replaced by a frightening desperation.

"I have to go back!"

"It won't be for a long time, buddy."

He grabbed my shoulders and dropped the dinosaur, not even noticing it.

"Please. You have to find a way to get me back there!"

I brushed him off.

"Chill down there. Greenlake isn't so bad. It's close to hell, but you'll survive a year."

"You don't get it!" He suddenly lost it.

Oh God. He's gonna set me on fire, isn't he?

"My brother isn't dead!"

Wait…

"What?"

"I saved him. I saved him from the fire and hid him in the woods. I tried to tell the police, but they weren't LISTENING TO ME!"

His sobs were now violent tremors.

"We have to go back!" he said

"We have to go back TONIGHT!"

Highschool sucks. I never have time for anything.

But today I had the worst urge to write something..

I can't really say that this fic is just humor and suspense. I kind of wish they had more options than that. There is drama and retardedness and, yes, romance. The mood of the chapters will change depending on my own mood, and I guess it will keep the story from getting boring that way.

Lots more to come.

This chapter is dedicated to Ziggygurl and Jommoj. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!