Ja, ja, here it is. I hope you enjoy it...if that's your thing.


Chapter 2-What To Do

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being tall." I say sarcastically "You know...Helping me!"

"Oh." Charlie looks surprised for once. Usually a scowl tugs his entire face down.

Oh, dear Charlie. He shall have deep frown lines and gray hair before he's of voting age.

"What?"

"Shiloh, you've never said thank you for anything before."

Did I really? Well, blame my former bitchiness for that, sweet Charlie. Of course I didn't really say that out loud. Instead, out comes, "Well, this isn't just anything. You're helping me with murder."

He glances at me sideways with his almond-shaped eyes, one brown and the other gray. "Just murder, Shi? I thought torture was involved."

I stare at him in alarm. "Well, that was mostly the grief talking. But, whatever floats your boat..."

He didn't say anything, just put his eyes back on the road and a smile on his face. As strange a vibe I was getting from him, it was nice to see him happy. Putting it bluntly, even before we'd drifted apart, Charlie was one miserable bastard. I do say "bastard" referring to the fact that his parents never married. As a matter of fact, his mother died in childbirth. His dad spent the next ten years after that chugging booze and screaming about how it was his fault...That beer bottle finally killed him. No, seriously, he was killed with a beer bottle. Apparently, some guy tried to snatch it, they fought over it, smashed it, then the would-be thief slashed his throat with the jagged glass.

It's one hell of a sob-story, but Charlie had been expressionless the entire time he unfolded the horrific story of his life. Somehow, that made it worse. Honestly, if there is one person in the world who I want see get glad and (I burn to say it) "see a silver lining," Charlie is that one.

I would've said Mark, but whose to say he's not prancing around on big fluffy clouds in heaven, harp in one hand and a Coca Cola bottle in the other?

Now that he's free of Gina...

Oh yes, that brings back a memory: grieving not a week after Mark's closed-casket funeral.

Gina had tried to make me stop crying by saying, "Shiloh, why the long face?" And she'd flashed her dazzling, awful smile. "You're free now. And so am I."

I turned and gave a nice view of my back. I'd stopped crying, alright.

She had calmly walked away, humming "When The Saints Go Marching In."

"Stop. Now." I command Charlie. His thick eyebrows almost touch his hairline, but he stops.

"Wha—" He began, but I was already out of the van and making a beeline for the back.

I can barely breathe with my fury. My fists are balled up so tight, I'm sure my nails are going to tear my palms. No, my brain screams at me, Not now! Not here, in broad daylight!

But I can't obey it anymore.

My fury is in the one driving this body now. I just watch my hands clench and unclench, surely preparing to strangle the life out of THAT BITCH despite it not being anywhere near as inhumane as I was planning. It doesn't matter at all, so long as she pays for taking away from me and trying to make me smile about it. But I stop and can only stare at the gaping back doors.

They should not be gaping. "CHARLIE!" I shriek, pushing them wider and looking frantically around.

Our two passengers are gone.


YEEEAAAAHH! Cliffhanger, I declare my love for you to the world!

*Blows a kiss* See y'all later, and drop a review while you're at it, S'il vous plait!

Might make me update sooner.