"So let it start, my friend, let it start.
Let the tears come rolling from your heart,
and when you need a light in the lonely night,
carry me like a fire in your heart..."

-Chris De Burgh

It was dusk - the sun was sitting gently in the west, the last golden light reflecting off the grass and touching the branches as their leaves rustled in the breeze. Lizzie sat up and looked around.

"What the..."

Why was she laying in her mother's yard?

Her head swam as she tried to remember how she had come to be there. The park...she remembered eating lunch at the park. Had she walked from there? Her car was nowhere in sight.

The mailbox stood over her, casting an ominous shadow in the failing light. Had she walked into the mailbox and knocked herself out?

She picked herself up and brushed the grass from her pants, wondering how long she'd been lying there that no one had noticed her. She looked up at her mother's house, but then sighed and turned towards the house next door instead. She rang Mickey's doorbell and waited until the door opened an a middle aged woman with stringy blond hair looked out.

Great, she thought, his freakish sister instead, just what I need.

"Hi Shelly," she started. "Is Mickey ho-" Shelly looked around and slammed the door. "Um, okay, never mind..."

Lizzie turned away and went back over to her mom's house. There was no answer at the door. Her watch read 7:45 pm...kind of late for her mom to be out.

Maybe she was trying to get a life, thought Lizzie, with little conviction. The door stood slightly ajar which she found odd. Ever since the little 'cops and robbers' escapade when she was five, her mom had been terrified of being burglarized.

Lizzie slipped through the door, shutting it behind her. After making sure her mom wasn't there - and that there were no robbers - Lizzie went upstairs to her old room and lay down on the bed. In minutes, she was asleep.

Her dreams were filled with flashing lights, sirens, and the smell of burning plastic. She awoke with a start, head pounding, palms sweating, and the sound of blood rushing in her ears. Everything was still and dark and she was alone.

Alone.

During the day being alone didn't seem bad at all. It felt empowering, as if she had her whole life before her - an empty slate, waiting to be filled with life and love, a future without the interference of her mother, or Charles' domination, or even Fred's... well his 'Fred-ness' (although she suspected she would miss the latter long before she would the former two).

Now, in the dark, her heart racing from her nightmare, 'alone' took on a new meaning. She fought the irrational urge to climb out the window and walk across the tree branch to Mickey's house, knock on Natalie's window and ask if Fred was there.

She got up, turned on the light and looked around. The room had been fastidiously cleaned by her mother after Lizzie had moved back to her own apartment. She got down on her hands and knees, searching along the baseboard and under the bed until finally, stuck in the hinge of her closet door, she found what she had been looking for.

It was silly really, but she was halfway afraid that the week before had all been a dream. The tiny feather in her hand was the last physical remnant she had to prove, if to no one else but herself, that Fred existed.

She smiled fondly at the raucous memory of Fred tearing apart 'Mr. Poo' and looked around for a safe place to keep the feather. Her mom had done away with her old jewelry box, and so she took the chain from around her neck and placed the feather safely inside its heart-shaped locket. Not feeling so alone anymore, she slipped back under the covers, turned off the lamp, and went back to sleep.

The sun streaming through her window woke her in the morning. She traipsed down the stairs to find her mother in the parlor, deep in conversation with someone on the phone. Lizzie waved to her when she glanced up, but her mother ignored her (which was nothing new, although Lizzie thought she might have been surprised to find that she had stayed the night). She looked like she hadn't slept well and seemed older since Lizzie had seen her the previous week.

"Thank you, doctor, " she said into the phone, "I'll make the arrangements."

Lizzie went over to stand in front of her. "Hey," she whispered. "who are you talking to?"

Why was she talking to a doctor? She was probably sick or something and just too stubborn to tell her anything about it. She certainly looked worse for wear. Lizzie was still trying to make out the gist of the conversation when she glanced at the mirror behind her mom, and her mind went numb. The phone call forgotten, she stepped around her mom's chair for a closer look.

It was a full length mirror, four feet wide and extending from the floor to the ceiling. She had always loved it - had loved watching herself in it as she spun around in her pretty dresses as a child. The time Fred scrawled "POOP!" on it (with dog poop no less) was one of the few pranks he had pulled that had upset her. She had cleaned it off herself, before her mother had even seen it, and Fred had never touched it again.

Now, her hands shook as she placed them against the cool glass, and she shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to wake up from whatever crazy dream this was.

As Fred played "sand-box demons" with Natalie that morning, he wondered what was going on in the Bunce household. Mickey had called his horrid sister, Smelly (or something like that), to come over and watch Natalie the evening before, then he had disappeared and never come home.

Fred knew something was wrong, Mickey was actually a great father and now that the awful babysitter was gone, he really doubted that he would be needed there very long much longer. And why the heck had Snot-face stayed the night over at the Mega-beast's house? Surely she'd had enough of that old hag to last a lifetime- he knew he had.

He wouldn't have known she was over there, but he had awoken sometime in the middle of the night with the feeling that something was wrong. He checked on Natalie, but she was sleeping peacefully. Then he saw the light click on in the window next door. Fully awake, he recognized the gentle tug of emotions as Lizzie's, not Natalie's.

It wasn't the first time that he'd found that, even though he had a new charge now, he could still sense Lizzie's emotions to some extent. He wasn't sure if it was because he was still attached to someone who was part of her life, or if it was because of his close proximity to her. It wasn't nearly as strong as it had been when she had been his charge, more like a ribbon of smoke now instead of the iron chain it once was, but now he felt her fear and knew she must have had a nightmare.

He wished he could go and comfort her, but since she could no longer see him he knew it would be in vain. Now, as he played with Natalie, he worried that something might be dreadfully wrong.

"Snaggle-tooth, would it be okay if I ran off for a bit?"

"Sure, Fred," answered Natalie. "I'm going to finish the war here and then put some red food coloring in Aunt Shelly's contact lens container!"

Fred gave her a bright smile and a high five. "Good thinking, Snaggle-tooth!" Then he disappeared into a flurry of green sparks. He materialized in Lizzie's old room but not seeing her he ran down the stairs. He checked in the kitchen. Not finding her there either, he went on to the parlor.

"Snot-face?!"

He rounded the corner at a run and nearly barreled into her mother. He saw no sign of Lizzie and was about to leave the room when movement caught his eye on the other side of the room.

"Snot-face? Snot-face!" He ran over to where she knelt, white as a sheet, shaking visibly. "Lizzie! Hey, what's wrong?" He had no hope for her to answer, he was silent and invisible to her now. To his surprise she turned towards him.

"Fred? Fred!" She ran to him and threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder and holding on to him for dear life.

Stunned, he hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around her tightly. When her tears had subsided, he took her by the shoulders and held her back enough for him to see her face. So many questions buzzed through his brain, but he settled on the first thing that came to mind.

"Snot-face, how... You're not supposed to be able to see me!"

She buried her face back into his chest. "I don't know, Fred," came the muffled reply. "Look in the mirror."

Fred turned to the mirror. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at - or rather not looking at. He had never made a reflection, but where was Lizzie's?

"What's going on, Fred?" she cried, "Everyone's acting crazy...I don't think anyone can see me but you!"

To emphasize the point, she went to where her mother was now standing, looking out the window.

"Mom! Mom!" She tried vainly to get her mom's attention by shaking her shoulder, but her fingers seemed unable to grasp anything properly and the best she managed was a gentle push. Her mom turned towards her, looked though her, and walked away.

It was Fred's turn to be shell-shocked - not an emotion that graced him often. He tried not to get caught up in Lizzie's panic. That wouldn't help anyone right now. She was still following her mother through the room, shouting, screaming, trying to make an impression on the obviously oblivious woman that she was chasing. Fred caught her arm as she passed by him.

"Wait Lizzie... just wait. Calm down for a minute and let's think this through." Being around small children for what seemed like an eternity made his mind feel like it was full of mud when he was faced with something more serious than how to plan the next prank. He struggled to plow through it. "What happened? When did all this start?"

Lizzie told him about the day before, about the mailbox she must have walked into and how she found herself lying in her mom's front yard. About Shelly slamming the door in her face and then her letting herself into her mom's house.

"Fred, what if Shelly couldn't see me? It's the only thing that makes sense! It was so weird, how she looked around like she didn't hear anything I said and then just slammed the door. What am I going to do, Fred?" She hesitated for a moment, then ran towards the door. "I've got to get home!" she said suddenly, but then stopped, confused, "I ...I don't know where my car is though. I think I might have left it at the park."

"Well, come on then, " said Fred taking her hand, "Let's go take a look."