Author's Note Wow, thanks to everyone for responding to chapter one! Anyhoo, hope you like this chapter… remember to Review!

So Much For A Happy Ending

Chapter Two

"Sera! Serrrrrrrra!"

"What's up Squink?" I mumble sleepily. It's four in the afternoon on Saturday. I stayed up most of the night watching films again. Most of them were foreign so I was actually just reading the subtitles, which were not in sync with the actor's mouths. Due to the idiotic timing of the subtitles, I knew what each character was going to say before they did. So I said the lines for them, in various different accents. It was fun but now my throat is sore. And I'm sleepy.

"There's someone at the door."

Ding dong. My doorbell rings. Everyone in the house is out. Ding dong.

"Go away." I yell in the general direction of the front door, hoping whoever it is will hear me.

Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.

"STUPID CRETIN!" I shriek.

I drag myself downstairs, agonisingly slowly, while the doorbell rings several more times.

"I'm here already!" I yell when I finally reach the door. I pull open the door and find no-one. "Morons!"

I slam the door as loudly as possible. Ding-dong. I growl to myself then fling the door open again, just in time to see a bunch of little kids tearing away.

"If I catch you brats near my house again, I will tie you up and make you listen to ding-dongs all day! And then, I'll eat your eats!" I shriek at them and catch the stares of my very disapproving neighbours, who are all idiots anyway.

I slam the door again. "I need a cough drop." I say to myself and rummage around in the kitchen a bit. I don't find any but I do find a jar of honey and some wheat crackers. I crack the crackers into small bits and drizzle copious amounts of honey on top and mix it all together. Yum.


"Arrrgghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I yell. I pick up my bowl of crackers'n'honey (I made up the name myself!) and stalk to the door.

"I said I'd rip your ears off!" I holler. Into the face of one very stern momma who's standing in front of three angelic little boys. Go figure.

"Did you threaten my boys?" She says. I think as fast as I possibly can. A full minute passes.

"I don't speak english." I finally say. I try to throw in an accent of some sort but it doesn't sound plausible. The woman's eyes narrow.

"Shame on you, threatening little boys with such grotesque sayings! Where are your parents?" She continues.

"Um. Wearing hats at yoghurt show. Good fish!"

"What?" She says, her eyes narrowing even more. "Well, I'll be back."

She turns to leave, dragging her boys behind her. One turns to stick his tongue out at me. I empty my bowl of crackers'n'honey onto his head then slam the door.

Insolent brats. Ooh, I could cook up some really great revenge but there's too much noise. Someone is shouting profanities at me through the door. What a creep! I crawl upstairs and flop on my bed, where I look up onto the mural of farm animals that I made. It makes counting sheep just a little bit easier.

Minutes pass. Nothing happens.

"I'm bored."

"I know."

I roll over onto my tummy. "What should we do?"

"I don't know. Maybe you could make brownies again?"

I think about it. That sounds like fun.

"Great idea. Thanks Squink!"

"Save me one!"

"No problem."

I hop down to the kitchen and tidy it up for the sole reason that it'll be more fun to dirty afterwards. I rummage through the cupboards and fridge and assemble all my ingredients. Yum.. Healthy, delicious brownies. I get to it, making two batches of brownies. While I wait for them to cook, I clean out the cupboards, sorting the cans in order of size and preference to what's in them.


I turn.

"Hello mom."

"What's this about you throwing a bowl of biscuits at one of our neighbours?"

"We have new neighbours?" Damn.

"Well, no we don't. That woman was visiting one of her sisters here!"

"Whoopsie daisy." Take that, lady!

"Don't be so immature. I want you to go and apologise."

"No." She wants me to apologise to the brat-lady? Ewww.

"You will go now!"

"Nope. Not going. Can't make me."

"Sera honey, please. Don't make this more difficult."

"I'm not, you are." I say indifferently.

"Sera McAllister! Go now!" Mom says, putting her foot down. "She lives at number 27. Her name's Mrs Hutchings. Oh, and take some brownies with you. That'll be a nice gesture."

There is no arguing with the voice of authority.


I stack some brownies onto a plate and stalk across the road. I'm about to knock on the door when I catch sight of the buzzer. I give it a long, hard press. Then I do it again. And again. And I'm about to do it another time but the door opens and brat-lady glares down at me.

"I am here to apologise." I say. Sorry that you have such retarded kids. And sorry that they have you for a mother.

Brat-lady, Mrs Hutchings, glares at me for a second more. "Did you know that it took me an hour to wash the honey out of Billy's hair?" She hisses.

"Really. Once, I poured soup into my hair to see what'd it look like." I say to her enthusiastically. It was a great story. Mrs Hutching's nostrils flare. She in undoubtably unimpressed. I hold up the brownies.

"I brought you some brownies. Made them myself."

"I see. Well that's very nice but I don't allow my boys chocolate."

What a weirdo but that's not the point.

"They're not made of chocolate." I tell her. Who likes chocolate brownies? Mine are so much better.

"What are they then?" She says, peering suspiciously at them.

"They're vegetable brownies. Completely healthy. Delicious too. They're great right before you go to bed, with a cup of tea. Sweet tea, if you can afford it."

"Vegetable?" Mrs Hutchings asks. I notice she does not look particularly happy.

"Yep. Had to do everything myself too." Let me tell you, mashing up vegetables is no easy task. Took me forever. "Don't you like vegetables?"

"Well, yes but-"

"Great!" I hand her the platter and turn around and walk home. Well that was another five minutes of my life wasted. Oh well. I'll just annoy my family for six minutes and reclaim my missing five… I laugh to myself, imagining the shock they will feel when they realise that they have wasted six minutes of their lives..

"Oh no! What will I do! I've wasted six minutes of time that could be spent working! Sera, what will I do? Help me please!" Yells Dad, all frustrated.

"No can do, Daddy dearest." Says me, all cheerfully.

"Sera! You took my six minutes so you can help me clean the house." Mom shrieks. "I have a schedule!"

"Never!" I shriek right back. "Too bad!"

Brian comes up to me, with his usual swagger.

"Yo sis! I don't be likin' this fo-shizzle that you be in wit. What do I be doing with them sixes that you took?"


"Talk normal, you retard!" I yell at him. Also known as 'You be talking like them retards. Don't be doing it.'

Yes. This could totally work in my favour.

"Argh watch out!" Someone shouts and I spin around. Many, many bikers zoom past me. They do not hit me or anything but they are thisclose to it.

"Insignificant cretins!" I yell after them. One turns his helmeted head and gives me the finger. Or what looks like the finger.

"I hope you fall off and-"

Wow. He just ran into a parked car and swung off his bike. I laugh evilly to myself. The car that is hit starts beeping, loudly. I block my ears.

"Stop that! Noooow!" I shriek. I hate too loud noises. I scream, trying to block out the car and my Mom runs out of the house.

Oh. It was our car. It stops beeping, I stop screaming and I storm back into the house to find my wallet. Then I storm back out.

"Where are you going Sera?" My Mom asks. "I need your help, this poor biker just ran into the car. He might be hurt."

"Cough drops!" I yell at her and she looks bewildered.

"But I don't have a cough." The perplexed biker says. I look at him. His helmet is gone and he looks fine apart from the scratch running down part of his face.

"NOT FOR YOU!" I yell. Idiot. "FOR ME!"

I walk two streets til I reach the shops and head into the supermarket, into Aisle 7 and halfway down, on the left. Yes, there they are. Oooh! They're on special! Yay! I check my wallet. I have a ten dollar note which will buy me five-no, four packs. Oh goodness. Four packs. I feel like I'm in heaven, swirly clouds and angels and all.

I grab four packs and head to the cashier. Damn, the lines are packed. Ok, Plan B sub-category 2 implemented.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" I say, hysterically.

"Hey, don't push in!" Someone yells.

The tears are almost there.. just a second longer.. and yes! We have lift-off!

"Please, my mom has the worst cough and she's sick and she has so much stuff to do and I want to help her but I can't and I'm afraid that she's too sick to work so I said I'd get her some cough-drops and now the lines are long and I just wanted to help!" I ramble, crying hysterically at the same time.

I observe the people's face through my tears. I can see the sympathy and after a second, an old woman, right at the front of the line, lets me in front of her.

"Thank you. God bless." I sniffle at her and she pats my shoulder comfortingly. The cashier starts to scan my cough drops in when someone taps my shoulder.

"Aren't you the girl who had to buy cough drops for your grandmother a couple of weeks ago?" Another cashier asks.


"Yeah." I nod, hanging my head. "She had uh, whooping cough.."

"I see." Says the cashier, clearly not believing me.

I get my change back, pick up my bag and leave.

"I'm coming Mom! Hang on!" I yell desperately, for good measure.

As soon as I am out of sight and ear shot, I laugh. Maniacally, whatever.

"Idiots!" I say.

I will have to come up with a better plan to get past cashier lines. Maybe I'll disguise myself… Wait, I've done that before. Damn. Ok, new plan: go home and use cough drops as inspiration for new new plan. Cool.

I stomp through the door and stop short. Bike Boy, as I will call him because of the alliteration, is sitting in my spot at the table, drinking from my mug (which has a picture of several baby elephants on it) and eating my brownies.


"Get out of my seat!" I yell at Bike Boy. Why does this always happen to me? Bike Boy jumps, and scuttles out of my seat and into the one next to it, which just so happens to be Brian's. So that's okay.

"Se-ra. This is Nathaniel." Mom says pointedly.

What a dorky name.

"Hello Nathaniel. Please, continue drinking from my mug and eating the brownies that I baked." I say cheerfully.

Newly dubbed Nathaniel (who will always be Biker Boy inside) grins hesitantly.

"Sera, how many cough drops did you buy?" Mom gasps, noticing the bag that I'm holding.

"Only four bags." Says me, a little defensively. One can never have too many coughdrops.

She laughs fakely.

"Sera's rather fond of these cough drops," she explains to Nathaniel, who nods politely.

"Anyway, I'm going upstairs." I say and go.

"She seems nice." I hear Nathaniel say to Mom.

"I'm not!" I shout back, even though I am. It never hurts to put the enemy on guard, though. Wait, yes it is!

"Yes I am!" I shout, correcting my mistake.

Mom laughs and says something along the lines of 'silly Sera'.

"Don't laugh at me!"

The laughter stops and I slam my door loudly to reinforce my point.

"What's wrong?" Squink asks.

"There's an evil Bike Boy downstairs that sat in my seat, drank from my mug and ate my brownies.. without permission!" I tell Squink who responds positively by showing an angry face.

"Want me to steal his shoes or something?" Squink offers.

"No thanks."

From downstairs, I suddenly hear "Who is she talking to?"


"Her, uh, imaginary friend. It's a phase she's going through." Mom explains with an embarrassed laugh.

"Imaginary friend! You're totally real!" I say indignantly to Squink.

"Sera! Come say good-bye to our guest." Mom calls. I growl to myself, debating it but I know I cannot argue against Mom.

One day, some day..

I trudge downstairs where Mom and Nathaniel are standing chit-chatting. I can see, from my angle, that he has a band-aid on one side of his face. I can also see that his eyes are the darkest shade of green possible. Huh.

"Goodbye, guest." I say primly.

Mom holds up her hands. "Sera dear, would you mind escorting Nathaniel to the bus-stop? He would ride home but he doesn't feel up to it and I'm afraid his bike isn't in the best of shape."

I glare at her.

"Really, Mrs McAllister, it's not necessary." Nathaniel says quickly. I grind my teeth. Reverse psychology.

"Fine, I'll go!" I spit out. I stomp outside, intending to wait for Nathaniel to say his goodbyes, like he is supposed to. Then I realise that he's right behind me so I start off down the street. He catches up with my pace, wheeling his bike beside him.

"Hello." He says to me.


"Your house is nice."

"Actually it's a terrible house." I tell him matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry I uh, used your cup and ate your cookies then."

"I will have to wash my mug and bake more brownies when I get home." I state, even though I won't. Mom knows to clean my mug thoroughly before I will use it and I still have another batch of brownies.

"Ah. Then I'm sorry you have a cough."

"I don't have a cough!"

I resolve to test me temperature as soon as humanly possible, just in case though. And go to bed as early as possible. To prevent the chance of this cough germ multiplying in my system and breeding a gang of cough members. Yuck.

"Then why'd you need so many cough lollies?" Nathaniel asks.

"They are cough drops," I correct, "And I enjoy consuming them."

"You don't get out a lot, do you?" Nathaniel asks me.

"I get out plenty. I have to buy the cough drops don't I? And I go to school. Already, I go out 7 times a week, which averages out to be once a day."

"Right.. Tell your Mom I'm sorry I dinged her car, again and yeah, sorry for being so rude earlier."

"Fine. And I accept your rather unimaginative apology."

"Ok. Although, it wasn't completely my fault." Nathaniel continues.

"What?! Are you blaming me?! Is that it?! You think it's all my fault?!" I shriek and then feel real tears flooding my face.

"Are you crying?" Nathaniel stops, peering at me. The sun is starting to set so from what I can see, he is three inches from my face.

"Yes! What does it look like I'm doing? Do I look happy?" I screech.

"God sorry. Just stop crying!" He pats my head and I growl at him. I hate people who do that. Or I hate some people who do that. I don't know.

"Ok, Ok. I just meant, it was you yelling at me."

"You tried to kill me!" I screech as loudly as possible and I see a cat streak out from under a car and run away. Oops.

"You were standing in the middle of the street, yelling at us! And then you made me crash!"

I growl extra loudly. "I did not! You tried to kill me! You're an attempted murdered!"

Nathaniel looks stunned. "Dear lord. You should be in therapy. You know, my sister runs a group-"

"I am in therapy." I interrupt. I am carefully distracting Nathaniel with my witty conversation while I edge away from him. The bus-stop is three metres away.. I'm not sure how he'll cope but I'm sure he'll find it eventually.

"Good! I'll enjoy talking to you once you're sane." He says and backs away towards the bus-stop. "See ya, crazy lady."

"Goodbye Bike Boy." I say and walk back home. I'm back in record time (27 seconds as opposed to my previous record of 34). I pick up two brownies (still warm!) and head up to my room.

"Here ya go Squink." I say, putting the brownie down n my table. "Sorry it took so long."

"No problem.. yummy."

Squink is happy, good. Now what was I going to do?

Oh yes.

I pick up the phone and dial.

"Emergency service, how can I help you?" Says the operator who picks up.

"I'd like to report an attempted murder."


AUTHOR'S NOTE nice long chapter, very fun to write. please review and tell me what you think! I'll update again within the next two weeks ok?

Birdy Tamel No, Squink's gonna be around for a while yet. But yes, the possibility of Squink being replaced is quite.. yeah.

My Slumbering Heart Oh thank you. Hope you're still reading.

Picksy Your review made me laugh because it was all random and disjointed (in a good way). Thanks heaps- and I'm sure you have a great social life. Although I'm not sure about the people living in your head..

Kamikaze Mission Oh I'm glad you like this one. I Remember is almost done so I can concentrate more on this ) Hehe, Evatt is coolness.

Larana Wow thanks. I prefer first person, which is why I write it so much but I think third person you get more of everybody's view.. so it's not as biased. But I'll stick with first person for now. Thanks for r'n'r-ing.

Nova Light Thanks. Evatt? Hum, I didn't think it was that strange. But that's just me: I look for names everywhere. I think I had a neopet named Myoora which is the name of a road in some country town that I visited. Actually, I think Evatt was a road name too. It's pronounced Ev-etnot E-vat, if that helps.

MoonyCat ooh thanks heapsness.. glad you liked first person too cause I'm gonna continue with that.. Thanks again!

Penami thanks! Sera is so so so so much fun to write so yeah, I'm glad you enjoy her thoughts. Oh yay, Author Alert. Super cool.

Chinx Believe it or not, she doesn't suffer from any major mental disease. Thanks for reading! And don't worry, I'm still writing Clash!

Irish Fairy Wow, I think you have got to be my most favourite reviewer.. You're everywhere! Thanks heaps, it means a LOT to me and I'm really glad you liked it. Yes, Sera's kinda paranoid. Thanks again!

Rockstar-groupie Ooh thanks, Sera's great, I love writing her. Keep reading!