Chapter 3: Hero

Tia

If I'm expected to weep like a damsel in distress waiting for a non-existent hero to come along and save me, I'd rather drown myself. Obviously something in that chicken-y little brain of mine snapped. And it had to be the moment when I had a monster breathing into my face didn't it? Oh and I don't mean the snapping was a sound like a twig under foot, I mean that a tree just got zapped twice by lightening kind of sound. What kind of demented fairy tale is that? Instead of slaying the evil dragon like any sane fairy tale inhabitant would do, I go up to it, trace my finger along its scaly cheek and say something phenomenally stupid like "eat me". Could I be any more i-d-i-o-t-i-c? So that comparison was slightly vulgar, but today, as I have previously stated, my brain is not functioning, okay? So cut me a break. On second thoughts, a headless chicken can't really be expected to possess a brain, which is probably why I did what I just did. Interesting how my finger tingles. Hopefully I haven't passed any of my super amazing healing powers onto his bruised cheekbone.

Poor little Jae baby. Schnookums? Cutie pie? Pumpkin? God, the way those guys swarmed around him when he'd stepped off, with Mr. I-like-to-flex-my-muscles-with-the-vigour-of-someone-who-just-got-electricuted bringing him an ice pack and all. Talk about moving fast.

Spoilt brat. I felt like retching. Obviously I'd just discovered a way to self induce bulimia- just picture Jae's face, and voila!

I've definitely watched too many soapies for my own good, courtesy of my darling mother. God, kill me now. After my little (probably highly unsuccessful) seducing act I was trying to settle my fizzling nerves. Seriously, have you ever tried seducing a guy with a headless chicken? In my case, I would have been closer to succeeding if I had thought of whacking him around the head a couple of times with one, but my brain just had to blank out on me. I was on like, automaton or something. Wait, no, I don't usually go around seducing guys. A blush was creeping up my cheeks as surely as a tomato would rot in the sun, but luckily for me, Jae was now too busy being fawned over by his little clique of women eating chimpanzees out on the asphalt to notice.

So you've heard of the manwhore and the manhater- well, allow me to introduce the maneater. Yes, my dears, I have a knife and spork in hand. Women eating chimpanzees be gone! Either eaten… or possibly stabbed to death. Give me credit- I have a good aim, okay? I mean, come on, my mother is an expert in throwing toast.

I liked to throw knives. Cue for the evil laughter right about… now. Oh, oh, "He ran into my knife… ten times". I smiled widely. Chicago- God I loved that movie.

I smiled, my teeth glinting like pearls in the sun, my hair tossed back by the wind, my muscula- oh. My. God. Definitely too many trashy romance novels for me. But hey, who needs heroes when we could create them ourselves? Just most people wouldn't be like me and, you know, some how morph themselves into the main male protagonist. Like, ew!

The bus was noisy once again, those little dimwits snapping out of their stupor and resuming their daily charade. I noticed that the blonde was the only one still silent, her long hair falling in front of her face as she scrummaged around the grimy floor for remnants of the pages which were once, sadly, part of her book. I kicked myself for not pissing Jae off earlier. Earlier being the moment he stepped on the bus. Made no difference, I'd have done that to the disgusting prick sooner or later. I bent down, wincing as my back cracked. I think I was actually quite tense back there, and you probably could have put a ruler to my back and it would've stuck like glue. The girl looked up, her blue eyes startled at the sound. Usually I detested girls like her. Tanned, blonde, blue-eyed. No, I'm not superficial. It was the other "quality" that got to me: weak. But I guess a person couldn't choose their circumstances, and someone had obviously shoved her into this one. You could tell that she had no clue what to do.

I gathered up pieces of paper amongst the chewing gum wrappers and dusty runners and winced as someone stepped on my fingers as they attempted to scurry off the bus like it would implode and cave in on itself. I paused in my own thoughts to take a gulp of air. Yeah, yeah I'm weird. Whatever. Joy, I get to arrive at school with toast stuck to my hair, missing a couple of fingers and wearing a pair of sneakers on the verge of dying, I thought sarcastically. Typical inconsiderate bastards, obviously their eyes were too small to see that we were trying to pick stuff up from the floor. Like their brains, I added snidely to myself. I couldn't really figure out what to say to the blonde girl, so I shoved the ripped pieces into her hands, whilst muttering something along the lines of "inconsiderate pricks…" before straightening up.

It was my first day. And I didn't want to be late.

Just call me the prize student. I was about to walk off in my dusty and about to fall apart sneakers when I heard a soft voice.

"I'm sorry."

I lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. The only reason it was perfectly sculpted was because my mum had shoved me into the bathroom the night before and proceeded to very painfully pluck off my eyebrow hairs (for god's sake) the way she would pluck the feathers off a chicken. I swear that my house is a hazard zone for perfectly normal and sane people. Why in the heavens someone would willingly pluck off their own eyebrow hairs was beyond me.

"Uh… okay." That was my stupid reaction. I never take apologies very well, just like I never take compliments. Because for one, why the hell was she apologizing? And for seconds, even if she should apologize, she shouldn't because of her stubborn pride and… okay, I'll stop putting my own narcissistic philosophies on someone else. Shifting the weight of my bag on my shoulder, I tucked my hair behind my ear- a habit I usually give in to when I can't think of anything to do or say. She looked up, hugging the pieces of paper to her chest like they were her life saving teddy (and I know how life saving teddies could be). My tough exterior softened a bit and I reached out a hand, offering to help her up.

For a couple of seconds we stared at each other the way an alien would look at a goldfish (score one for the goldfish, because goldfish don't have eyelids and thus never blink).

Then she grabbed my hand, and I hoisted her up. I was surprised to find that she towered over me- she hadn't looked so tall before. Probably because she was sitting before, chipped in my oh-so-helpful brain. Remind me to stab it with my spork one day. Repeatedly.

As she brushed herself down, I stated simply, "I don't know what you're apologizing for, but let me tell you one thing: it's them," I jerked my head towards the receding figures of Jae and his cronies, "who should be apologizing."

I crossed my arms over my chest to stop myself from tucking my hair behind my ear when there was no hair to actually tuck in. The bell hadn't rung yet, so I figured I had time to set her straight on this point, at least. The other one being that Jae and his mates should be castrated.

She looked me in the eyes and said, "I know."

My smile blazed like a headless chicken at the sight of dinner (dinner being those guys). Actually, that's not really possible, seeing as they don't smile if they're headless. But let's use some imagination here shall we?

"Elizabeth."

"Right, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Tia, and I'm new… obviously."

She laughed at my brain (yes, my brain, not me) for its stupid habit of stating the obvious.

I checked my watch: 15 minutes till the bell for homeroom. I was actually early- thank the glorious yellow and red bus!

I grabbed her arm and physically dragged her like I was dragging a sack of rice. To her credit, she didn't complain… much.

"Man, where are you dragging me?" she laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. I remained silent, the only sound being the pounding of my shoes on the concrete.

I had to get there, fast.

"Whoa, you're not kidnapping me, right?" she joked.

"Are you kidding?"

She chuckled at my pun. I blanched, "Did you see how close that bastard came to my cheek?"

Her face registered confusion.

I ran into the toilets with the desperation of a headless chicken trying to get its head back, and called over my shoulder, "Where do you think I'm going?"

The toilets were as you would expect of a government school, and Elizabeth strolled in beside me as I splashed my face briskly, reveling in the tingle the icy water bought to my cheeks. The icy water. It was like, 9 degrees out.

"Are you crazy?!" Elizabeth asked as she pulled her long blonde hair into a high pony tail and took the bobby pins from her mouth to pin her hair back. Once she could talk again, she continued, "Wait, don't answer that, I don't want to know that the first person I've talked to…"

Her voice trailed off rather abruptly, and she viciously jabbed a bobby pin into her hair. She turned to me, blue eyes blazing. I was surprised at the anger I saw there. But it wasn't directed at me… it was directed at herself.

"I guess it wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't tell you." I looked away, pretending to be immersed in my own reflection. Not that the cracked mirror and stained tiles did anything to improve it. Sometimes people didn't need you to stare at them when they tried to get out something important. I know I didn't.

"Well." Elizabeth looked down, stuffing her hands into her pockets. I decided to resist the urge to raise my eyebrow again. Seriously, what if the wind changed?

I took my comb out and brushed my shoulder length brown hair with a couple of quick strokes.

"I would have done something about it. You know, the way they were treating me. But I couldn't. And you know why?" She looked at me bitterly, biting her nails. I noticed that they were bitten down to the quick.

"Because I couldn't touch them. Everyone here's scared of them. I know it sounds silly, but they aren't just scared, not like the if-they-help-me-out-they-would-become-the-next-victim kind of scared, but they're really scared, if you know what I mean. Like a sort of survival instinct kind of fear. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I went to my friends." She paused, gulping.

"They ignored me."

I added, "The bitches."

She cracked a smile. "I went to the principal. He told me to live it up or move school."

Her eyes were still and serious now as she picked at her fingers furiously. She blinked.

"They're in the mafia. Hell, they are the mafia." She looked at me.

I blinked. "What's that?"

She choked, and I thumped her on the back the way a friend would.

I laughed, "Your face… it was a classic. I'm sorry... I just had to do that." The atmosphere lightened considerably. "I know what the mafia is. I've seen the movies, read the stories."

"They're real. They don't-"

I cut her off, "I know. But you know, we're all only human. These people are scared of them because they look at them like they're another species. You don't have to think like that- you could think of them as ordinary people who have to go to the toilet, get constipated occasionally, get upset, have weight problems, worry about pimples…"

She looked slightly green, "Did you have to go into so much detail?"

I smiled, "well, at least I got my point across."

I opened my bag, shoving my comb in some corner of its dark recess. I was actually slightly scared. But the whole mafia thing hadn't really sunk in. I mean, they were just high schoolers, right? My amber eyes narrowed at myself in the mirror.

I turned to Elizabeth, a winning smile on my lips.

"You know, sweetie, we don't get upset. We get even."

She looked at me as though I'd suddenly morphed into a three headed newt.

We walked out of the bathroom, and the courtyard was almost empty. I would show this school of cowards that you can't just let people push you around, "Them?" I said loudly.

"They're BASTARDS! And deserve to rot in-" I got about that much out before Elizabeth clamped her hand over my mouth like a limpet, laughing, "God, you're so crazy! They'll hear you and we'll be in-"

"Deep shit?" I grinned.

"Well, yeah."

As we walked towards the grey bricked main building, with me turning to her and saying, "Don't worry…"

She looked pretty worried.

"No one stops the God almighty super-chicken!" I shouted as she desperately hung on to my arm as I did a couple of flaps just to prove my point.


I shoved my stuff into my locker, taking out my schedule and the books I needed. Figures I would forget something so blatantly obvious- a lock. I could almost kick myself. I probably would have if Elizabeth hadn't stopped me by dragging me towards homeroom.

Since the final bell hadn't rung yet, the homeroom was a war zone. Well, not really, but you know, the typical jocks throwing scrunched up pieces of paper at some poor person's head for amusement, the quiet row of students doing their own stuff at the front table, the slut making out with the sleaze… oh no, I take that back, wow, a threesome… was that position even physically possible?

It was particularly noisy around one desk, probably because everyone's attention was now drawn to it, and also because there was a really loud voice coming from the middle of the cluster of people.

Actually, I could see the fiery mop of red hair from a mile away. And hear the voice.

"Extra, extra, read all about it!"

There was some mumbling and exchange of cash. I caught bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Put my twenty on 'until lunch'…"

"She won't last for the day, here's a fiver."

The red headed boy called to some random person in his crowd, "Hey Matt, man here's your change…"

"Sweet."

I decided it was time to make my grand entrance, and sidled up from the doorway like the grim reaper. The obviously easily amused and excitable crowd grew silent and shrank back from the boy, who was now, very, very, alone as I stalked up behind him. The boy was surprised and looked up in front of him, mumbling "Hey, don't you guys wanna bet anymore? It's all in good fun, I mean, you'll all win money…" His voice trailed off as all gazes were pinpointed somewhere near the back of his head.

His back tensed.

I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around the way an arthritic would and when he saw me smiling at him sweetly (as sweetly as a headless chicken could manage), he almost peed his pants. Well, that's what his expression looked like anyway.

"You were saying?" I asked pointedly.

He gulped and turned back to the non-existent crowd, obviously wishing he could disappear into a hole at this very moment. Elizabeth tugged my arm, motioning that the teacher had come in.

He actually squeaked. Was I that intimidating just because I'd punched an idiot and lived? Things like this happened to ordinary girls all the time (or so I told myself)! I was for one, shorter than him. And skinnier.

Some kind person way back in my memory had told me that I had knobbly chicken knees. And he thought I was going to beat him up? Heavens, my hand still hurt from the bus! My knuckles just weren't cut out for that kind of living.

I laughed, mock punching him on the shoulder. "Right."

Liz had finally managed to successfully drag me into a seat somewhere near the middle.

The class was still quite rowdy when the teacher sat down, her numerous folds of clothing draping over a rather plump body. She looked like someone's grandmother, and she croaked gently, "Quiet please."

Pushing up her half moon glasses with one gnarled hand, she continued, "Well, let's see who's here shall we?"

She squinted down at the roll, crow's feet inching out from the corner of her eyes. "Tia Adler?"

"Here." I replied, mentally taking note that the homeroom teacher seemed the sort who wouldn't mind if a student was five minutes late. Or ten. That little tidbit could come to be of use.

"Daniel Bentley?"

"Sammy Chandlers?"

"Elizabeth Duncan?"

I tuned out for the rest of roll call, and when the bell rang for first period, I was one of the first to shoot out of my chair and head towards the door.

The redheaded boy walked towards us hesitantly. "Hey," I offered, "My name's Tia."

Elizabeth looked away shyly, and I added, "She's Liz."

She smiled at my use of the nickname.

To my surprise he ignored us, and even tried to push past. The nerve of him! Maybe I'd given this guy too much credit- he was obviously like all the other pig headed wimps around here. I shoved him out of the way and stomped off in God knows what direction with Liz.

"Wait!"

I paused in the middle of my stomping tantrum, but I didn't look back.

"I'm Tim."

I started walking again, with Liz glancing over her shoulder. Mentally I was the equivalent of a headless chicken jumping up and down in excitement. There was a breakthrough! Score one for the headless chicken!

That's why I was smiling as Liz and I headed for our next class. Except, as we compared timetables, I realized we weren't in the next class together. Damn it, I had an advanced Creative Writing class.

Just why had I applied for that? I thought dismally. And winced as I remembered how mum had twisted my ear until I agreed to send some of my stuff in. She had said it was the only thing I was remotely good at, and I might as well give it a shot because she didn't want her daughter to be a failure in life etc etc, rant rant. And don't even think about asking me why they'd accepted me- personally, I think they're just plain crazy. My work isn't exactly scintillating. In fact, it's quite dark and morbid, generally. I could write a couple of thousand words about a pigeon that carked it on the way to school, but you tell me to write about the happiest moment in my life, and I wouldn't know how to put it on paper. Call me stupid. Or Mr. Squiggle if you must. And don't ask me where that came from.

I am not androgynous. At least, I hope I'm not.

I squinted my planner. They really shouldn't have printed this thing out in size 8. Room… 203. Which should be on the second floor, presumably. Level 2, room 3.

I caught Liz's wave and brief "Catch ya at lunch!" before she disappeared around the corner.


Creative writing was in a dimly lit room, with an exclusive number of students. Twelve, to be exact. The teacher was young, and he looked preppy.

I felt a twinge of something, and looked up from my desk. On the table next to mine was the disgusting specimen that I was now gawping at quite rudely.

He stared right back at me unabashedly. Behind those spiky black lashes, something unfathomable was lurking within the depths of those dark eyes.

Unnerved, I turned away, my attention shifting to the teacher.

"Welcome, class. Wonderful to see you all aspiring young writers so eager and early, no?"

Someone snorted from the back of the room. I decided that the lovely picture of a yellow sunflower hanging on the wall to the side of the teacher's head was much more interesting.

There was a loud crack, and almost everyone shot up in their chairs. Talk about morning wake up call. "I am Mr. Timmons."

He tossed the duster in his hand, and slammed it back onto the table again. Someone gasped. "And no, dear students, I do not need anger management." He smiled widely. "I am simply demonstrating the intensity with which you all need to write. You have to have the passion, you have to have the will, and mostly, you have to want!"

His voice had grown louder towards the end of his sentence, and it echoed round the room. Personally I thought that was just creepy, and he was probably some little green man in disguise.

Some idiot laughed out loud. That idiot was sitting beside me. The teacher strode up to him, and lowered his face to stare into those black eyes I had now become familiar with.

"Mr. Huntington, I presume." He said in a low voice.

The rest of the class had grown silent as the tension mounted. Why was God to punish me and seat me right next to this lunatic?

Jae stretched leisurely.

"Mr. Timmons, I presume." He replied in a slow, mocking voice.

His face was expressionless.

Mr. Timmons smiled suddenly, and gestured towards his desk, "Well, Mr. Huntington, I have a piece of your work there. Would you mind reading it to the class?"

"No." He stated blandly, one hand twirling a pen.

Mr. Timmons turned to the class, eyeing the rest of us like a hawk eyeing supper. He turned to his desk, and held up a piece of paper.

"In this class, you will all be expected to contribute. You will all read out a piece of your own," with this, he stared at Jae, who stared back levelly. He didn't even blink. Hey, maybe he was a goldfish in disguise?

You had to admire his composure.

"You will all have a piece workshopped."

The class murmured.

"And, you will all obey me like I am king!" Mr. Timmons smiled.

The class laughed good-naturedly, and the tension in the room dispersed. I decided I liked this teacher. A sense of humour was everything, even if he looked like he was one strict walnut.

"So, Mr. Huntington, shall you, or shall I?"

To my surprise, Jae stood up, his chair scraping back against the wooden floor and walked up to the teacher. I winced- this couldn't be good.

Smiling darkly at Mr. Timmons, he grabbed the piece of paper, a touch of something like mocking in his dangerously low voice.

"Are you sure this bunch is mature enough for this?" He asked scornfully, before his lashes lowered.

"But, as you wish." Another look of contempt at Mr. Timmons.

The soft lighting made shadows dance across his face.

He began pacing the room. The pacing created a sense of rhythm and pulsation. And using that voice, that voice made for the devil, he spoke.

He obviously harbored a talent for expression and theatrics. The class grew silent. I expected something along the lines of a detailed description fantasizing about screwing every chick in the school from a guy like him. I guess I got it, sort of, only it wasn't what I expected.

"Sheltered." The first word shattered the silence of the room, and he looked at me as though he wanted to pierce through my soul and scream.

An upgrade from the blade.

world ceases to breathe
sweet skin warming intoxication like
heady smoke rings
spiral down
from
lavender oil burning
spinning world stop spinning
and
start burning

His voice was low and seductive, pungent almost. Slow, each line dragging on for too long before launching into fast paced bullets of words that felt like they would choke me.

slashing angry
not
blue tinged veins
fuck no
the world never felt so good
to fuck
adrenaline pumping down my thighs
hot

throbbing down there
pulsating life
to give life
death
stops silence
and is noisy and still
at the same time
exact moment
arched back in perfect height
mouth parted moist
and
red slightly
hot

bed before the beginning

better not

get up, snatch at thin air
clutch at warmth like Antarctica
melting away
feeling the knots
tangled you and me
pressed
pulling apart not running fingers
through your hair
yank like
sex on wheels
kitten with claws
stop

A low plea, eyes like pools of black gold melting into your skin and dissolving.

need more air
and
room to breathe
and suck in my stomach
taut
and lovely

shudder and still he walks away
cold hard floor
and
he walks towards the door
and gave birth to the
eighth sin
he forgot to pay
again but
too cold to care

hit the floor far off
and then some
writhing naked, pale flesh

cold hot fuck
knife blade never suicide
blade in too deep
and red

red in his back
the best thing is
him knowing it's there
and wanting to
pull
it
out
almost there
stretch some
more
and then some
but he can't reach

The desperation in his voice tore me apart.

where homicide lies

in the middle

give up and die already

quench my thirst with copper
red hot blood
kinky, didn't you
like it
lick it
fetish handcuffs and black feathers
positive pain

twisted with strands

positive pleasure
ripped fishnet purring against your cheek
and then
snap
something inside her
me
snapped
I'll give them different

no depressed girl scratching
tender wrists too hard
pathetic
no lunatic
with an axe
upgrade from razor
piteous

no

point

mass destruction point
guns at heads
blow
give us a blow
blow your brains out
too many blades
knives
ten kilo machine guns and empty shells
at last we are one
together
together fore'er we unite in

one genocide

fuckin' backstabbers

where they can't reach

the end

His voice rose and hurled us up with it- I could feel the anger and pain sizzling down my back. But it wasn't mine- it was his.

There was silence. I was stunned, and I have never been stunned before. He crumpled up the piece of paper, and threw it in a perfect shot into the waste basket. Maybe he should take up basketball, I contemplated.

Jae looked up directly into my own troubled brown eyes, and then he turned and walked out, leaving only the door to swing shut behind him.

Finality.

The room seemed cold, and I could almost see my breath rising before me in the air.

There were murmurs again. Mr. Timmons clapped his hands together for silence.

I felt like my writing was crap.

"Tia? What do you get from this piece?"

Ah crap, I couldn't really say what I just thought, so instead, I analysed his piece.

"It's coming from a female point of view."

"Good," Mr. Timmons commented.

"It's angry at the world, and angry at what's happening, and describing something that's hard to put into words. It not only focuses on the aspect of eliciting intense emotional response from the reader, but also intends to evoke strong images. Also, it brings in the reasons for anger and pain as presented in: "suicide"… followed by "homicide" and then "genocide". The same technique has been used effectively with the use of the words: "beginning", "middle" and "end", giving a feel of chronology. Rhythm has been used to imitate…" I rambled on, spewing forth a bunch of technical descriptions until something that I hadn't intended to say came shooting out of my mouth. "I think he's angry at himself. He needs someone to hold him."

Sometimes, I wanted to rip out my tongue.

"Excellent analysis Tia."

That piece of work had to come from a twisted mind. He had to be a monster.

Granted, a talented monster.

"So, Daniel, how do you think he could improve it?"

The class went on, but I couldn't help shivers running down my spine as I thought, he's going to kill me after school.

I glanced at the closed door.

I am one dead chicken.

The bell rang, and yet I sat until everyone had had left. "Tia?" Mr. Timmons questioned.

"Oh, I just need to write down a few things." I made up a lame excuse.

He nodded, "Close the door behind you when you're done."

I smiled a "yes".

And then I was the only person left in the room, I shoved my exercise book and pencil case back into my bag, swinging it onto my shoulder. I would have walked out, but my footsteps slowed at the wastebasket. Lord, what the hell was all that junk in there? Didn't anyone empty it? Drink cartons and sandwich wrappers, even an old apple core. And that neatly scrunched up ball of paper was lying on top of it.

Was I really going to do this?

I bent down slowly, my arm reaching out.

God, I was really going to do this.

I picked up the paper with two fingers and threw it into my open bag. Then, I walked out.


A/N: This is one of the longest chappies I have ever written- a record at 21 pages double spaced. Oh and before anyone asks, yes, I did write that poem. It's up on my deviantart. But no, unlike Jae, I am not deemed to be twisted. And yes, the rating for this story isn't going to change, we're all old enough. Everything else is also mine! me! No takey takey! Not that anyone would want to take my stuff- as Tia said, it's not exactly scintillating. Thank you so much to people who reviewed the last chapter, which basically made me write up this one extra fast. The story is really expanding from the old version, isn't it (for my readers of the old version)? Please review because if you do I will give you all happiness for the rest of your lives! No, really. And of course, I'd love to know what everyone thinks of this chappie- constructive criticism is welcomed. Though compliments are loved as well .:preens:.

Cheers,

eyesofahuntress.


Here are the replies to my lovelies who reviewed last time, of course, as always in chronological order:

Darkscribe: Hugs! Of course you should love Jae! There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I mean, I love him! .:grins:.

Veiled Dicast: Well, technically, you reviewed chapter one, but I want to reply to that anyway. Thank you for noticing my improvement (at least I hope I've improved). Yes, the old version was simply… crap. Lord it was crap. And, it was long overdue for a makeover, because, call me sentimental, but Jae and Tia are still my favourite characters… because they were my first .:grins:. Hope you keep up with this story, because I really enjoy rewriting it and expanding it like a balloon! Hugs! Thanks much for the review!

BangBangYourDead: I'm immensely glad that you liked Jae's point of view as well, and that you liked my story. For that, I worship you! Is this update soon enough? Anything for my readers! Hugs! Thanks for dropping in a comment, I'm interested to see what you think of this chapter… and the rather mature poem. Well, it is from Jae, so to be expected lol. Intense much? Heh.

Terry S: Thank you for the encouragement to update, it really got me writing. Hugs! I'm glad you like Jae… but don't leave poor Tia out! Jk jk, you can leave out whoever you like, as long as you keep reading and dropping in a comment .:worships:.

Iced-Faerie: And then there were 3… hugs! And I would love to know what you think of this chapter… hopefully you still like the way this story's going! Catcha next chapter if you drop by a note .:waves:.