"Amy, walk to the sidewalk," she comanded.

"My name is not Amy!" I screeched, as another car slid past me on the thin layer of ice blanketing the road. Who the hell was she to tell me what to do?! She didn't even know my name! Maybe I wanted to be smeared across the street!

It was hard to keep up that attitude as I dodged a fourth car. Too late to back out now! And to think, all I'd wanted was a cookie!

This whole scene started about an hour ago, but who was counting? Who really cared if Lynnette Stevens got smushed by the meanie-head cars? 'Not I,' those who heard the question would answer.

But, that's off-topic! Anyway, it had all been started by me going on a never-ending trek for cookies. Convieniently, my favorite cookie shop had magically appeared across the road! No problem, I'd thought, I'll just walk there!

It seemed pretty busy, and though Andy had said it would've been a better idea to go to the place on the other side of town, I needed my cookies. So, I started on my way. I swiveled through trafic until I got to the middle of the road; that's where I got stuck. A large red truck drove dangerously close to my foot and I got rather uncomfortable; I weaved my way back towards Andy.

Everything was once again fine in the world of Lynnette Stevens... Or would've been, had I walked away from the street. But I wanted my cookies, and the day I let some dirty, old road deny me my sugary, fatty, treats of utter goodness was the day Santa Claus went insane and killed Rudolph.

By now, reporters, and police, and ambulance were gushing through the crowd. After going back into the cage of automobiles, I found myself trapped.

And the reporter who told me to get on the sidewalk wasn't making things any easier! She'd tried at my name three times already, and she'd said something different during all of them. L-Y-N-N-E-T-T-E! I'd even take Lynn! But this woman... Ooooooooohhhh, she makes me sooooo mad! How do Lynnette and AMY have anything to do with each other?!

It had been an hour, and there were reporters, but no one was really trying to help me. Andy was loving the questions. And he, oh so, loved answering them in ways that peaked interest and forced you to ask another question, so, basically, the whole interview was going to be him. Which I was fine with; I just wanted off of the war ground, more likely to be referred to as Cherry Street.

I saw an opening between a Nissan and a Ford and quickly went for the escape. I got out, but that Ford had sliced into the side of my hip, though a small 'boo-boo' was the least of my problems as the reporters mauled me. For a moment, I seriously considered jumping back into the stream of on-coming traffic.

The most common question these reporters asked was why I did it, which I replied to with a sickeningly sweet smile and an answer including the words 'I', 'wanted', 'a', and, of course, 'cookie.' Many of the reporters stared at me like I was insane after that and one even went as far as to ask what I was on.

The people from the ambulance, pretending to care, asked if I was alright. When I told them that, yes, I was entirely alright and that their service was not required, they hopped back in their ambulance car and went to... eh, I don't know. Probably to get donuts.

"So, Andrew, you say that Lynnette has been to this institution three times? And that she tunneled her way out with a spork the last time?" a reporter asked Andy incredulously.

"Ye--"

"What are you telling him, Andy?" I inquired, stepping between the two.

"Nothing..." was the reply, accompanied by a childlike grin, resolving to make Andy look even more suspicious. I had been to absolutely no institutions that would've required me to tunnel my way out with a spork.

I sent a stern look his way.

"I was just telling him how you went to that asylum and then about your escape."

"Oh. That's alright, then. I thought you were telling him about that other thing..." Trailing off, I looked from side to side suspiciously.

The reporter's eyes lit up, as if he'd just just won the lottery. I guess a good story for your newspaper is the next best thing.

"Me and Andy gotta go now, Mr... uh... Mr...bye!" I exclaimed the 'bye' quickly and pulled Andy away from him, to my car which was in a parking lot across the street from the cookie shop. And, yes, it would've been smart to just drive to the bakery, but this was so much more fun.

I drove ot my house, and, upon entering, we met up with my thirteen year-old sister, Sharon. We were six years apart, with me at 19, and got along pretty well. Except for that time she stole my mascara. Mom grounded her for a week to get me to shut up about it.

This was the first time I'd been home for a while. See, I was in college. And a grand college it was! Well, it was okay... I was home for Christmas, and before I'd even gotten to my house I'd been on the news. The people there just loved me so much.

Christmas was in three days. I got here so late because... Well, I live in Kansas, and I go to college, for some odd reason, in South Dakota, so on the way home I'd stopped in Nebraska to see a few friends for a few weeks. I would've stayed through Christmas if Andy wasn't here, in Kansas.

He was 17 and still in highschool, living with his older brother, Seth, the self-proclaimed lady's man who couldn't get a date to save his life. Now, don't get me wrong, he had all of the charm, and the looks, and... well everything, but he couldn't stick to one girl, and they always found out he was cheating, because, in the middle of all of his charm. he had about two braincells, thereforth leaving him with no plan to keep his 'chick on the side' a secret.

Living on the same street as me, Andy walked himself home as I went upstairs to my room and lay on my bed. drifting off slowly, I forgot to change... or even take my sneakers off. I twisted and twirled into a world that held no dreams. Only a peaceful emptiness of deep, wonderful sleep.