Franky Is Lucky

Dear You,

I think it is easy to forget how things begin. We get caught up in ourselves, in our lives and in the rhythm of things. We forget to remember where we started. The pace of what is happening wears us down to the point where we feel like we have just been running ourselves into a rut for all of eternity.

Someone once told me of the solace of Sisyphus, a great king condemned by the Gods. How he must feel that his eternity is not a punishment but instead a happy existence, for he knows his purpose. Sisyphus knows his rock to bear and it is always in his sight. Sisyphus has but one task and one punishment and though it is perpetual and unending it is still far easier than the plight of our kind, the plight of the real world, for he knows his burden.

In turn, you would think that someone like myself would understand that I too have it easy like Sisyphus, for I know my burden. And though the path is not laid out so clearly as his, and though I may not be forced to do what I have done and will do, I know what I must do. I know where I must stand now. I can only hope that I can overcome who I was made to be. I can only believe that I am strong enough to let myself watch the rock fall and then be willing to push it up again.

If I can tell you anything, I will tell you that I know we are afraid too often of the consequences of our lives. We fear the impact of who we are at our cores. We are scared of what that will do to others. What we don’t realize is that our core nature is what makes this world, we are in, work. We spend our waking hours trying to hide from everyone when in reality we are just trying to avoid our burdens at the sacrifice of ourselves and the plight of eternity. What will happen if we reveal who we truly are? What will become of this world if we stop fighting and start pushing? What will happen if we accept our fate, our rocks, and climb our hills?

What would happen is that every burdened, beaten step would bring us closer to our purpose. To the end of our eternities and the beginning of others.

Do not be afraid.

Push.

Begin to make your gifts, your curses, and your stories known.

I hope you find these words years after my eternity has finished and you will see that I did everything I could. This is only the beginning of my story but it is my story. This is what I remember of how it began, everything that led me here.

After everything, I know that joy and sorrow are not the only measures of life. They are just the top and the bottom of the hill where I push my rock. Here’s to Sisyphus and here is to your eternity.

Sincerely,

Felicite Onni

What am I?

I think it is possible that I have asked myself this question a million times.

Why am I like this?

This too is hard to answer and a considerably more frequent question than the previous one.

What should I do? How do I overcome? When will I know the answers? What is meant by this?

Why, What, When, How? They all circulated on a regular basis when I let my mind be idle for too long. It’s hard not to think bleak thoughts when you have nothing engaging to do and no one to talk too.

I had watched all the movies I had in my possession and all the ones on pay per view, and there was nothing on TV. All the books that I had, neatly lined the shelf categorized by spine color making a rainbow down the wall, I had read them all. I turned on my laptop and while it woke up from its slumber I positioned myself on the couch for my nightly ritual.

I logged into the normal chat rooms all of them for people like me. Well, at least kind of like me.

My pseudo name darkestluck and black horse icon came up and I saw that there were very few people on, but at that moment as I searched through the vastness of cyber space an instant message came through. It was my friend Amy, but you can never be too sure, she could very well end up being a forty year old fat man living in his mom’s basement. As for now she is Amy. Even though we have never met she is my best friend, or at least the best friend I have ever had.

The message read “Hey Franky how are things?”

I replied “ Good the usual, take out and movies.”

There was a brief moment of no response, I knew that this was going to turn bad before the conversation even kicked off. After all, that was Amy’s style, decisive and to the point.

“Sooo….” Her response popped up onto the screen.

“Yes?” I asked after a few seconds I knew where this was heading. I thought maybe I could delay it for a minute. Give myself a fighting chance but nope. She’s never been one to postpone with pleasantries. That is why what she said next did not shock or surprise me at all.

“Did you think about what we talked about? Did you maybe attempt?”

Already I felt exhausted and we had been talking for a whole of two minutes. I really did not want to have to explain myself again so I just replied.

“No. I told you that I couldn’t even try. The ramifications would be too severe and I couldn’t live with that.”

She knew this would be my reaction because as soon as I entered my response hers appeared right after it. If anything, she knew me too well, and that was a problem.

“Ramifications? I understand your hesitation, but don’t you think I hate seeing people who no one else can? Don’t you think that I hate knowing from some guys great aunt Sue whether or not he is an honest man? I mean we all are haunted by our ramifications. You can’t let what you are, infringe upon, what you want and on your ability to live. You know?”

It took me a second. She was right, but she was also so very wrong. There was no way I could associate with other people. There was no way that I could inflict what I am on everyone else. And I finally told her so.

“Listen, it’s not like I can keep this to myself. It is not like I can control what I am or possibly ever fathom shutting it out like you can. I have no defenses, and better yet, people don’t have defenses against me. Do you know what happened the last time I went outside?”

Amy did not reply for several minutes, though the little dialogue balloon which indicated she was typing stayed on. Her response finally popped up on the screen.

“I just think that you could figure it out if you had practice. I mean, after all, you helped me get some control. Maybe you can do it for yourself?”

I took a second to get over the ebbing frustration. She did not get it and I knew her well enough to know she would never take no for an answer. So I thought of the nicest way that I could to get out of this.

“I was only able to help you because I did a lot of research. What you are can be explained by natural phenomenon. What I am, I have no reasons for, and until I can figure this out I can not thrust my misgivings on other people.”

She typed her response quickly and sporadically this time which added more anger to the effect.

“What I am is NOT A NATURAL PHENOMENON! And you know it! Yea you thought of the best and most logical solution. I understand that you think, this ability I have is all just a matter of heightened electric field sensory and manipulation. That it is all just a matter of evolution in quantum physics. And blah blah science jargon blah. But you know just as well as I do that you and I are one in the same and if I can learn so can you. Especially, so can you because you are the smartest person I know.”

That really sent me over the edge and I decided to end this before it got anymore intense.

“Listen, you don’t have to get mad at me. I know that you think I am this genius. I am not I am just a product of my environment. I have to go. I need to shower.”

“Yea and while you’re at it go and watch one of your stupid movies over again. BYE!”

And with that she logged off. Always the last word with Amy.

Amy is special in her own right even though she is extremely passionate. I think her zealous nature is a by product of her abilities. You see Amy is what many would refer to as psychic, though she is not clairvoyant in the least. I prefer to call her a medium because she can mediate between the dead and the living. She serves as a conduit in my opinion a portal for the dead to come through to this side.

In my research, on Amy’s behalf, I have come up with an interesting theory behind her abilities. It seems that Amy, and others like her, are able to detect subtleties in energy fluctuations. They are also able to read energy signatures, mainly signatures left by other people. I feel that her brain is more evolved in that she can distinguish clear connections between different energy fields and her brain takes displaced energy and reconfigures it without her knowing. Recently, she has been putting my theories to the test and attempting several experiments including magnetic interference and sound wave energy displacement. A few of my theories have worked so far to help her. She has recently been able to get a full nights sleep.

However, the closer we get to giving her control the more she wants me to try as well.

But she is wrong, we are different, we are vastly different. I do not think there is a word for what I am. It’s safe to say though that I may have received the better end of the bargain, but my price is making the rest of humanity suffer.

Basically, in a nut shell, I am a leech for luck.

You may snicker maybe even laugh but I am very lucky, extremely fortuitous, gratuitously prosperous. For as long as I can remember, good things have come to me. From wealth to good health. I have it all. What is wrong with that, right? Wrong. There is a price, a very heavy price. All those who come near me fail and suffer. If I find a twenty dollar bill on the street, the person who was nearest when it happened, will have their purse stolen or something similar. When I was in school all those who were in a class with me always did worse than me, even if I did horribly. Mind you these examples are mild. I almost got into a car accident once, when I got home I saw that right down the street from where it happened there was a ten car pile up. It happens every time I go outside. I cause the plight of others while nothing but good fortune comes my way. The best way I can explain it, is that I take people’s luck from them. I take their positive energy or good juju or whatever you choose to call it. I steal it without even knowing. I cause the deaths of others, the poverty, the pain. Every life I touch withers and falls. And those who get too close to me always end up dead or worse, wishing they were. That is why I can not leave this prison I have made for myself. That is why I stay locked up and locked away. I can not inflict what I am upon humanity. I refuse too.

Which leads back to Amy. I was stupid to befriend her. It was dangerous to her. Even if we never met eventually, I am sure, what I am will take toll on her life. She is a determined person like that. I met her about two years ago in the supernatural chat room I frequent. At the time I was lonely and looking for answers that science had not yet given me. And there was Amy just as alone. She was worn out, full of spite, and looking for control just like me. We became great friends immediately, both of us stubborn, both of us cursed. And I found that with time I could help her and I have. She has decided to take her gifts to the public and open a psychic grief counseling center where she, and others she has met, will help alleviate the burdens of guilt and unanswered questions. She will guide people to closure and give them the peace they need. She will have a productive life. And I will sit behind this computer screen and only ever look in.

The last time I went outside to socialize, I was sixteen. Brent Disarmo had asked me on a date. We went to the park, laid on the grass and watched the clouds. We talked for what seemed like brief moments in my memory, time escaped me and when I realized what I had done I jumped up from the turf. When I looked down at Brent, and where I had lain, I saw that there was a rough me shaped pattern etched into the grass. Where I had been the sod was dead and brown. Brent looked up at me with the familiar eyes of a confused teenage boy and said "Hey is the light weird or is it you? Your skin looks different." I was sure that it was. I told him I had to get home, that I had let time get away from me, I said something about my parents being angry. I jumped into my car and sped away. Later that night, I got a call from one of my friends telling me Brent was in ICU. Apparently, he had driven home after I had left, his car had over heated and caught on fire. He was burnt over sixty-five percent of his body. He would never be the cutest guy in class ever again. A year later he committed suicide because of the response of everyone he met to his burnt face. After Brent, I decided to save humanity from myself. That was over five years ago.

Amy knew about all of this of course. She knew about my parents and their deaths, about the countless misfortunes of those around me. She knew and yet she always begged me to try again. I just wondered sometimes if she truly understood what it means to know you are inadvertently responsible for all the unhappiness of those around you. She had reasoned that if her brain was able to interpret energy why couldn't mine act as a magnet for positively charged ions in the universe? She argued that since energy cannot be created or destroyed I was merely acting as a metal rod in a lightning storm, inadvertently, making whoever was too close receive the shock. But that just seemed so unlikely and too easy, but then again, as I walked into the study of my house I saw the countless books on magnetism, quantum physics and all the science journals that I had collected. Here in this room there was a treasure trove of material. All the pieces but I did not know what the puzzle was supposed to look like so I could not put it together.

I had reasoned with myself that Amy’s theory had to be impossible. After all, I could use electronics with ease. I had never once had a problem with electricity. The only things that were really affected by my condition were living. This seemed to include bacteria, viruses, and germs. I cannot remember ever being sick, though I blamed that on the possibility that good fortune includes good health.

A doctor by the name of James Servantes had offered to help me with this issue a few times, we had met online, he was a telepathic genetic specialist. I had helped him and he had offered to do the same. I had declined but even after explaining what would happen to him if we did meet he had offered to examine my blood. So I had tried to send him a tube. I shipped it in a vacuum sealed vile, wrapped in bubble wrap and secured in a well taped box. On the way to him there was a path of destruction from the shipping director at FedEx going suddenly bald. To the package handler losing his thumb. Finally leading to the delivery van, that it was in, crashing into an embankment. It had been storming the day before so the embankment was full of water, the package washed away. I still don’t know where the blood is. I can only hope it is never seen again. When the good doctor and I found out what had happened he stopped talking to me. I really do not blame him. However, he had done me a good service, I now know that this was not just about me, it is about all of me. I can never part with what I am.

I sat down in my office chair, flipped the lamp switch and turned on my MP3 player simultaneously. And I leaned back and listened to Primitive Radio Gods slither through the speakers. I sang along when it came to my favorite part

“Am I alive or thoughts that drift away? Does summer come for everyone? Can humans do as prophets say? And if I die before I learn to speak, can money pay for all the days I lived awake but half asleep?”

As the appropriateness of the lyrics sank in I just sat there and let the song finish, thinking about what my life has been so far and then I cried. It took me a total of sixty seconds to get a grip on myself. After all, I had a choice and I had made it. I could not make my dreams more important than the lives of everyone I ever came around. My humanity had to be my resolve.

I decided to take a shower after all. Well, at least I would be happy I had not lied to Amy. I hopped in and after a few minutes of the hot water surrounding me I felt better. I probably was in the shower for a good hour. And when I got out the room was filled with steam. I wiped the mirror clean and looked into my own steely blue eyes, they are harsh even when I am happy. There is a furrow in my brow and I tend to scowl when I am thinking, which when I was younger, made people think that I was angry or frustrated. The bathroom lights made me look pale, very pale, after all I never go outside, at least when it is daylight. I will admit that on a few quiet nights I have left this house but only for a short period of time. My black brown hair spilled down my back. I tried to cut it myself every once in a while but I could not manage more than a u shaped type of long cut. So I left it as it was. Overall, I would say that I was a jumble of features. Gray eyes, dark hair, alabaster skin none of it meant to fit together but somehow it did. Maybe that was a sign. Normal people would not look like me, normal people are not like me. These thoughts made me sad all over again. I stomped to my room and started getting dressed. I would say that my style, according to the magazines, is very “indie” which suits me I suppose after all I am a fan of indie music, mainly progressive. I looked down at my green Circa Survive t-shirt and jeans, my black vans, my Chevy seatbelt belt and decided I was comfortable with it. I started to head down the stairs and as I did I heard a knock at the door.

First thing I thought was Strange second thing I thought was Shit I have to answer that. If there is a person on the other end what will happen to them? I went to the door and looked through the peep hole. On the other side stood a twenty something girl with dyed blonde hair. She was dressed in a yellow cardigan with a paisley shirt underneath, khakis, and yellow loafers. She had a yellow head band and was holding a yellow purse. She looked like preppy trouble. She looked into the peephole as if she was looking through to the other side. I knew she couldn’t see me but then she put her hand on the door and closed her eyes. She suddenly opened them then said.

“I know you are there Franky. Open the door, it is Amy.”

How did she find out where I live? I had never given her my address. I don’t remember telling her we live in the same town! I am not that stupid.

At this point I had to make a choice. Either I could stand there not make any noise and wait till she went away or I could open the door. I stood contemplative for a minute. And then Amy spoke again.

“Franky I am not leaving till you let me in. I am being serious. I will stand out here forever, you know I will too.”

Dammit. I did know she would but I had to be rational she was already putting herself in danger.

“I know you can’t wait forever Amy. You are human after all. Now get off my doorstep. You don’t know what you are doing.”

Amy starred right into the peephole again. She gave it a stern look. It was like she was looking me right in the face and telling me I was a bad kid. I had not seen that look in years. It made me furious. I was doing her a favor after all.

“Listen Amy you are going to regret this. I am telling you right now, so go away. Okay? Go back to your life and forget about this absurd notion of saving me from myself.”

She replied very calmly with a authoritative voice “Franky I am going to go wait in my car you better be in the passengers seat in fifteen minutes or else I will not tell you what Brent has to say to you.”

What? Maybe she was lying.

“I am not lying Franky, fifteen minutes make sure you grab your wallet you will be paying for dinner.” I saw her, through the peephole, turn on one heel and jot out of site.

Dammit. This was a pickle. Fine. Have it your way.

I went and grabbed my satchel and keys and walked back to the door. I reached for the door knob and took a very deep breath. As I opened it I put on my jacket and walked outside. It was not hard to see Amy’s car even in the darkness of night in my long tree shaded driveway. She was driving a bright yellow mustang. She must really like yellow. As that thought registered I realized that I had never asked Amy what her favorite color was. Strange.

I dragged my feet towards the car taking my time. I was going to delay this as long as I could. Then the tinted passenger side window rolled down and Amy leaned over and yelled out the window.

“You only have fifteen minutes, I am not kidding so you may want to pick up your feet.”

Fine Mom. I gave a look and then walked at normal speed. I reached the passenger side door and opened it. I looked down into the car, which was spotless. I was learning new things about Amy every second, apparently she was a clean freak or very proud of her car. I reasoned both were probably true. I swung my leg in and plopped into the leather seat and shut the door in one fluid motion.

She turned towards me and peered at me. She smirked.

“I thought this was going to be hard and then I saw that guy with you.”

“How’d you know it was Brent?” I asked.

“His face was burnt.”

She must have seen my face because she suddenly locked the doors.

“No you don’t. I have something very important to talk to you about now. This guy is a chatter box and I am sure he isn’t going to leave me alone until I tell you what he wants me too.”

I crossed my arms across my chest and slumped into the seat. I must have looked like I was five because Amy started chuckling as she turned around in the driveway to leave.

She pulled onto the street by my house and headed towards the freeway. She turned just a street before. The silence must have been killing her but she looked really pleased with herself. I hate smugness.

“I know you are not happy but I know a place that is never crowded. We can talk and you won’t hurt anyone.”

“Yea, except you.” I mumbled.

She just smiled at the windshield.

We pulled into the parking lot of a run down brick building. The orange neon sign said “Morelli’s.” This must be an Italian place. Either it was the only deserted restaurant in town or Amy liked Italian food. Then again she had to like Italian food to know it was deserted.

We got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. I saw Amy nod to the hostess and walk towards one of the back booths and sit. She definitely has been here before, so she did like Italian food. I really was in awe at this moment of how much I was learning in such a short span of time. Was it like this for most people?

I sat across from her and clasped my hands on the table. She slid the menu away from herself, apparently she was either not hungry or already knew what she was going to order. I glanced at the menu and saw that they had pasta fagioli which had always been one of my favorites and placed it down. I wasn’t really hungry but since I was paying I might as well order. The waitress came over to take our drink order. Amy ordered an espresso and I ordered an ice tea. The waitress asked if we needed more time and of course we did not so we both ordered. Amy got the fettuccine with no meat and I ordered my pasta fagioli. As the waitress walked away I looked at Amy.

“So you going to explain to me one, how you found me and two, what you mean by Brent has something to tell me.”

She looked at me with a condescending smile and she said “Sure soon as the waitress over there brings our drinks and food. We don’t want anyone eaves dropping because this is juicy stuff.”

I scowled at her. I guess I had to sit in torture for a few minutes.

After what seemed like an eternity, which retrospectively was probably about ten minutes, the waitress came back with our food and drinks. She asked if we needed anything else and Amy said “No I think we are fine.”

Amy picked up her fork and spoon, she scooped the pasta onto her fork and rolled it against the spoon, just like my mother had always told me to do. After a few bites she must have noticed I was impatient so she rolled her eyes, set her utensils down and let out a sigh.

“Fine if you insist on being cranky. I googled your name. That’s how I found you. You know Felicite Onni is not a common name.”

My mouth dropped open. I stammered for a second.

“I never told you my real first name was Felicite!”

Amy chewed for a second and while rolling the next bite she said, “Yea, I know, but I figured that your first name had to start with an F considering your nickname and I found a Felicite Onni here in town and also the house was in an upscale area. Then, after I knocked on your door and saw Brent there I for sure knew it was you.”

“You are smarter than you give yourself credit for. I thought I had made myself unlisted too.” This was food for thought.

“Apparently, google does not care about such things.” She said with a shrug and took another bite. I do not think she realized how unnerving that was.

“Well, then what does Brent have to tell me?”

“Can I finish eating first? You should probably eat too this could take a while to explain?” She nodded her head towards my food then continued eating.

I looked down at my bowl. I really was not hungry. I would take it home though. I did love pasta fagioli.

It took Amy about ten minutes to finish eating. In the mean time, I remained silent which was more difficult than it should have been. After all I really did not talk to people often so I should be used to it. When Amy had finished she put her utensils down both facing towards her right hand took her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. She then nodded towards the waitress as if to acknowledge that we had to wait a few more minutes for her to come clear our plates away before we could start talking. The waitress who’s name tag said “Joy” came and scooped up Amy’s plate I told her I would like a to-go cup and she said she would box my food for me. She returned in a few short minutes with my food set to go asked again if we needed anything. When Amy said no she placed the check on the table. Amy said that we would be sitting and talking for a little while but that she would tip handsomely for the inconvenience. Which meant I would tip handsomely, in normal circumstances I would not mind because I tip well anyway, but it irked me a tad that Amy felt entitled to spend my money. What she had to tell me must be good.

As soon as the waitress walked away. Amy clasped her hands on the table and looked at me with her doe like brown eyes. I straightened my sitting position and motioned my hand in a circular fashion as telling her to spill it. She started promptly.

“First of all this is all coming from him so sorry if I get sidetracked or ask him questions aloud I do it out of habit. Sometimes that can confuse people.”
I looked at her and raised one eye brow to say that I got it and to get to the point.

“Well, anyway, I am going to repeat what he is saying word for word. If this bothers you or you feel uncomfortable let me know. I can stop.”

I nodded and gave a sign letting her know I did not like her therapist routine. She nodded and then started talking.

“Franky, I have been wanting to talk to you for a while now. I am sorry you are upset at the moment because what I have to tell you is not something you probably want to hear. First, I want you to know that no matter what I tell you, I have always thought nothing but the best of you and I do not blame you for what happened to me, and I am no longer angry.”

I felt the familiar sensation of grief and remorse all at once. I could not believe he had forgiven me. Maybe Amy threw that in there on her own. I still do not know for sure. She continued even though I looked down at the table and not at her.

“The car accident was not your fault.”

I looked up at that. Of course it was my fault how could he say that? However, when I opened my mouth to try and protest my voice caught in my throat and I could not get the words out.

“No, really Franks, it was not your fault. Even knowing what you are and what happens when you are around people I know it was not your fault. The car was rigged to explode and catch on fire.”

I felt my mouth fall open, after a brief second I croaked “What? And how is that not my fault?”

Amy continued as Brent “I was never meant to survive the explosion but something went wrong apparently the rigging was not done right and instead of the car exploding it just caught on fire. That is why I was burnt so bad. I came to in the hospital a few days later and found out about the burns and saw the news. I was mad at first and shocked, all the reporters kept saying that the car had overheated and then caught on fire but I took care of that car and I knew that couldn’t have been the cause of the fire. That night after visiting hours two men in black suits came to visit me. They talked to me about the accident. Thinking that they were police or FBI or something I told them my thoughts about what had happened. As I talked to them they kept glancing at each other with that secret agent look, the ‘he knows too much look.’ After I finished they told me that they would pay all my medical bills and pay me five million dollars to not tell anyone what I had told them. I took the deal, I figured I could get plastic surgery with the money to fix my face and still have some left over to go to school. I did not realize that this had to be huge to be worth that much money.”

I finally pulled my mouth closed. What the hell was Amy/Brent telling me? Was he implying that his accident was a conspiracy? What was this about? She/he ignored my puzzled face and kept talking.

“I was forced to sign a contract agreeing to the terms but I did not read the fine print. After all, no one had ever made me sign a secrecy contract before. When my mom found out about the money I had been hiding and that the doctors bills were not paid by an anonymous and sympathetic donor, she demanded that I tell her the truth. I broke down and told her about the men in suits and the money but I refused to tell her why they had paid me in the first place. She was so angry and afraid but I could not tell her why they had paid me off. I thought that was the only secret part of the contract. Apparently, I was wrong. That night when everyone was asleep, I awoke to a man standing over my bed in a black suit and tie he made me march down to the bathroom and strip down he made me get in the tub and then he made me drink a glass of what I thought was water. Later I found out it was ketamine. After the drugs in the glass kicked in I lost consciousness and died. He then proceeded to make my murder look like a suicide. He left the suicide note on the bathroom counter, the one that said I could not get over my accident and face. And left my house. After I died I could not move on. And so I eventually found you and realized what you were. I also saw what my death had done to you. How much sorrow, regret and guilt you felt over me. And I have seen how it has made you give up your life. You have no idea all the things I have done to try and tell you this. You have no idea how much this is not your fault. I will admit I was angry but I have gotten over that. I have tried so hard to tell you this for such a long time. It was never your fault Franky, it was never something you did. I forgive you now. I am sorry for what has happened. It was never you.”

Amy/Brent reached out and patted my hand and then Amy fell silent and when I snapped back to reality, I realized that tears were streaming down my face. I had never known that life could be so ironic till this moment. Ironic because the boy I had inadvertently had a hand in murdering had no idea that what he was saying still confirmed everything I ever believed about myself. Ironic because he should not be forgiving me. Ironic because I finally realized that even after all these years the hurt would never go away.

Then the questions started buzzing around my head. Why would someone want to kill Brent? Who would have the money to pay him off? How would they know that he breached his contract? What, Who, When, How? I didn't get it. And then I looked at Amy and she looked back sympathetically. She started speaking. I was so confused I did not register her words at first and missed the first part of what she said.

"I'm sorry I wasn't listening can you repeat that?"

"Franky are you okay? We can stop if you aren't but there is more he wants to say."

I looked down at my hands that were clasped so tightly together that my knuckles were white. I took a breath put my hands in my lap so that Amy and Brent wouldn't see them shaking and I looked up. My voice came out as a gravely whisper. "Yea I'm okay. Finish what you have to say."

Amy looked unsure, she started but faltered, and then I gave her a weary look I was trying to let her know I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. She finally started again.

"Franky, I need to ask you a favor.... What you can not expect her to do that!" The sudden outburst and change in Amy's demeanor snapped me back into a more conscious state. Expect me to do what? I must have looked really stunned but Amy kept talking to Brent I could tell because she was looking over my shoulder.

"I refuse to tell her that. She has had enough for today look at her face! You are the biggest idiot slash jerk slash asshole that I have ever met and I will not be your medium anymore."

I really hated this one sided conversation, especially when it was about me and when I had no idea what was going on.

I turned my sights on Amy and said "Amy you can't not tell me, he has obviously waited five years to ask me. And I am a grown ass woman I will decide what I need to hear and what I don't. Besides I can always say no."

"But you won't say no Franky. Trust me he shouldn't even be asking you." That last part she said while looking towards the empty seat next to me.

"Amy!?" I pleaded and exclaimed at the same time. I was really wishing that I was a medium at this point or, at the very least, telepathic so that I could gleam from her mind what I desperately needed to know. She looked at me. Her mouth pouty and her eyes full of frustration. She really was not used to losing. She muttered under her breath to Brent "I will figure out a way to make you pay for this." and then she turned to me and spoke her dark eyes boring into mine.

"He wants to know if you will, both, find out who did this and then make them pay. He reasons that it wouldn't be hard for you to do because you are intelligent and also because of what you are."

My jaw was really starting to feel fatigued from dropping open so much. Amy had been right I really did not want to do this but I knew I had too. I knew that I had to at least try and make amends for what I had taken from Brent. I had to pay for the life I had, that he did not.

But then I started thinking rationally. It would be easy to just walk up to the people involved and stand around them for a while and curse them but that would entail me putting other people in danger, innocent people. Also, how in the hell was I supposed to find the perps in the first place? It had been five years. There was no way that there were any clues left, and if these people were as efficient as they seemed, and that was pretty efficient, well then they would have cleaned up their mess in the first place. I sat up right then as that last thought trickled through my head. I turned to my right to face the empty part of the booth that Amy had been talking to, the place where Brent was supposed to be. And I looked for a second not believing what I was about to do and I said "No Brent."

And then I turned to Amy, the look on her face could only be explained as shock mixed with pure triumph. I looked at her sternly letting her know to wipe the expression off her face and that I wasn't happy that I had to say no. She smiled at me then said in a very smug and condescending voice, "He is not happy about that and I will not repeat what he is saying. He is asking why though."

I turned back towards where Brent was supposed to be and sighed. I had to do this, "Listen Brent, I have to live with this guilt and even though it eats me alive everyday, and even though it is life altering, I can not make others suffer because of me. If I find who did this to you what do I do then? Force everyone around them to suffer? Even going outside to find these people puts innocent lives in danger. I can not do that. I am sorry if you don't understand, but I know all too well the repercussions of what I am and I will not force that on anyone without their knowing. I am sorry Brent. I really am."

Again, I turned towards Amy to get his reply. She looked really gratified. Nothing like a heart wrenching denial to make you smile, right?

Amy said with a smile "He is not happy."

I figured as much. I grabbed my bag and got up from the table. I handed the waitress a fifty on my way out and walked out the front door of the restaurant. Amy came after me close on my heels. I went over to the passengers door my hand on the door handle waiting for her to unlock the car. I heard the locks click and I stepped in. She got in and started the car. She pulled out on to the street and headed towards my house. We drove silently all the way and when we pulled into the driveway I turned to her and said "Go straight home Amy, and email me when you do. Make sure you drive safely and don't come by my house without asking again. You hear me?" She nodded and I got out of the car bounded across the front yard, unlocked the door went inside and heaved the door shut behind me. As I locked the deadbolt, tears streamed down my face.

I laid in bed and recounted the events of the night. I looked at my alarm clock and realized that I had only been around Amy for about forty-five minutes, which was a relief. At least she wasn’t completely screwed. I rolled over onto my stomach and faced my head towards the window. The lights from outside were made blue but the sheer curtains pulled shut over the window. I starred towards the general direction and just let my vision blur till I wasn’t really seeing anything at all. I must have laid like that for a while before I eventually fell asleep. My mind was too exhausted to possibly analyze the events of that one small hour. However, I awoke at three in a cold sweat from the worst nightmare I had ever had. I sat up and tucked my knees to my chest wrapping my arms around them and burying my head in the space between my body and my legs. It was hazy at first but then the dream flooded back to me.

I had been at the park laying in the grass next to Brent just watching the clouds. I had turned to look at him and as I did he started screaming in agony and I saw the skin of his face start burning. I had jumped away from him but I kept looking he screamed at me to stop starring, that all of it would stop if I just turned away. But I could not take my eyes off the scene that was right in front of me. I watched him burn till he was nothing. That’s when I had awoken. I sat there for a few more minutes trying to pull myself back to reality, back to my house, back to my room, back to my bed where I belonged.

After a few seconds I flung off the covers and bounded across the hall to the study. I plopped into my chair and logged on to my computer. I then proceeded to check my email. In the inbox there was a message from Amy, it read:

Franky I am really sorry about tonight. I really did not mean to upset you. I got a flat tire on the way home and my cell phone died right as I was calling AAA. And then I tried changing the damn thing myself and in the middle the jack slipped and any who that is why I am so late emailing you. I guess that’s what I get huh? Anyway, there is something important I need to tell you.

I am really worried about you. As you were leaving to go into your house Brent got in my face and told me he was going to make sure you changed your mind. Be careful Franky. Spirits become stronger the more angry and vengeful they get. I have no idea what Brent is capable of, considering that he has, had no luck in contacting you in the past but he may stop at nothing to make you change your mind. If you need any help let me know. I am here for you and I am proud of your decision.

Hugs,
Amy

So, my suspicions were confirmed. The nightmare was Brent’s doing, or at least probably Brent’s doing. The bastard. He really was hell bent on making the people who did this too him pay, and now he was hell bent on making me pay for not wanting to help. Well Jesus that was rude. I decided to let him know I thought so. I turned around to face the empty expanse of the room.

“Well Brent bravo! Good show sir, good show. I hope that was entertaining because you achieved nothing else. You think you can scare and manipulate people into doing what you want them too, you are wrong. I am not that type of person. I have spent four and a half years locked away at my own will and volition. So if you think I am easy to break be prepared to spend eternity as a transparent idiot because I am not going to crack. Got it? I hope so.”

And with that I lifted myself out of my chair and walked out of the study and back to my room. I turned the TV on and fell back to sleep with the noise of re-runs tuning out any dreams.

I awoke all of a sudden to a loud ringing noise. I reached over in my grogginess to try and turn off the alarm clock. I must have hit the snooze button a few times before I realized that the noise was not coming from there. I swung my feet over the side of the bed. The ringing would not go away and in my lapse of brain function I could not figure out what was causing it. I proceeded to walk down the hall in my haze and stumbled towards the kitchen. As my faculties came back to me I realized the noise was emanating from the phone. I reached for the cordless sitting on the counter, pushed the on button and put it to my ear.

“Hello?” My voice came out muffled and groggy.

“Franky? Listen Franky, it’s Amy.” This stirred me out of my stupor a bit. How in the hell did she get my number?

“Yea?” I said deciding that brevity was my best defense.

“Listen, Franky we need to talk I am heading over to your house right now… I know you told me not to but this is an emergency. I will be there in about twenty see you then.” Click the phone went dead.

Seriously? Did she really just do that?

I could see that Amy was definitely employing some hard sell tactics, basically she was not giving me a choice as to whether or not I wanted what she was trying to sell. This irked me a tad. She was really turning out to be a more exhausting person then I had assumed.

I trotted back to my room and pulled on my jeans and sneakers and a clean shirt. I headed to the bathroom and brushed my hair and teeth. And then I walked down the stairs to the living room where I curled up on my sofa with a blanket. As soon as I got comfortable the doorbell rang. Well great. I guess luck does not include naps. I walked to the door and looked through the peephole. There stood Amy looking rather disheveled, which I assumed was not a look for her. She had on a cardigan, unpressed khakis and keds. Nothing was color coordinated, this was a definite sign of trouble. I flung the door open and starred at her. Now that I could see her clearer, I could tell her makeup was less than perfect and her hair had been hastily put in a ponytail. I stared but moved to the side so that she could step in, as she did I shut the door. I motioned for her to have a seat.

“Do you want anything to drink? Coffee maybe? I can make a pot. I have tea also.”

She sat there, her dark eyes looked so scared and uncertain. I decided to just sit beside her, so I dropped myself onto the couch carefully. She looked down at her hands hesitantly and then up at me. She seemed so childlike with uncertainty and fear painting her face. She was so different, and I was starting to feel chills run up my back. What had happened to make her act like this?

I reached out for her hand and she pulled it away. She was shaking and I could see as her cardigan tugged back with the motion of her body that she had scratches on her clavicle. I gave her a look of what must have been shock, because she immediately saw and pulled the sweater tightly over her chest so that I could not see. Instinctually, I reached out to try and push back the cardigan so that I could have a look. Amy screamed at me.

“NO! Don’t touch me!”

I leaned back and put my hands up in protest. She was looking like a crazy person with her hand clenching her shirt closed and her eyes wild in defense. I decided to employ the only technique I could think of, reason. I spoke softly and sweetly.

“Amy? Are you okay? What happened Amy?”

She continued to stare at me. Her eyes were so alien in her face, her features seemed harsh and empty unlike the smug face I had talked to last night. I tried again.

“Amy? You had something to talk to me about remember? What happened? What did you need to tell me?”

She looked at me quizzically and then recognition flashed across her face. Her features immediately sunk in to sadness as soon as the light of coherence went out. She sunk onto the couch and began sobbing.

I was stunned for a second and then slowly I leaned back in to a closer proximity with her. I reached out my hand to her shoulder and stooped my head so that I could talk to her face. I spoke quietly, but I could not hide the intensity in my voice.

“Amy, It’s okay. You’re okay. Tell me what happened? Tell me what you need to say.”

She said through broken sobs “Brent. It was Brent.”

I stood up suddenly and forcefully. I looked down at her as sympathetic as I could but I was sure she could see the anger in my eyes because she flinched. I spoke in the mellowest voice I could muster despite my anger.

“Is he here, now, Amy?”

All she did was nod. I turned on the room, looking vainly for any sight of the specter. Of course, he was no where. I gave up looking and just started talking.

“You lousy good for nothing coward, how dare you? How dare you hurt someone who gave you a voice? How dare you harm someone innocent to try and get to me?”

“He’s laughing Franky.”

Amy’s voice startled me so much that I jumped. Probably, not the best reaction to have in front of a lunatic ghost. I looked at her. I decided then to ignore Brent. That seemed to be the better tactic. Since Amy was finally talking I sat back down on the couch. I looked at her for a second and took in the whole picture. Even though I was angry, it did not show in my voice this time.

“Amy you have to tell me what happened. I did this to you. I need to know what I did.”

She looked at me confused for a moment. I don’t think she quite remembered what I am, but when she did the awe that dawned her face was heart breaking. She composed herself a little and after a few seconds that seemed like eternity she spoke.

“Franky this is not your fault.” She held her hand up to stop me from interrupting and continued. “I am serious this is not your fault. It is my fault. Brent found me in my sleep last night. He told me everything about what he had done to you, how you had stood up to him. He said that he could not speak to you so I was going to do it for him. He made me have horrible dreams, in one I was covered in ants, that’s how I got the scratches. I am kind of a violent sleeper. I now suppose that Brent knew that. He tortured me in my sleep and he showed me the dream he gave you. I am so sorry Franky. I am sorry he did that. I should have never told you he was there. I should have never given him a voice. I’m sorry.”

She put her head in her hands and started sobbing again. I looked at her. I really did not know what to do. How was I to help her? I could not make Brent go away. Except, wait. I stood up. I knelt down in front of Amy and put my hands on her shoulders. I cocked my head so that I could look into her face.

“Amy it is going to be okay. I will make this right. He will not hurt you anymore. Okay? You have to help me though. You have to help me talk to him. Okay? I need you to agree to tell me whatever he says. You promise?”

Amy looked up at me, she nodded. Looking back I don’t think she would have, had she been in her composed state of mind. She would have realized what I was about to do and try and stop me rather than agree to help me. I patted her on the shoulder as I stood up. And I looked down at her, her face had turned hard as stone.

“You ready Amy?” She nodded. “Is he still in the room?” she nodded again and pointed towards the loveseat. “Oh fine Brent have a seat in the home you are not welcome in, sure.” I felt foolish berating a person who was not really a person and who I also could not see but I was angry and I get snarky when I am angry. “So what you want, is for me to help you, right?”

“Right” Amy said. I turned to look at her. She was talking for Brent again. I swung back to where Brent was supposed to be.

“Fine I will help you but I want you to know that if there is a God he will definitely have your ass for this one. Also we need to lay out some ground rules.”

“He laughed. He says ‘You’re funny Franky. I always liked that about you. What are the rules?” I just noticed then that Amy was changing the register of her voice whenever she spoke for Brent, that was a neat trick and helpful but slightly disconcerting. I shook my head to clear the random thoughts and turned back to Invisible Brent.

“First and foremost you will leave Amy alone. She is a willing participant and if she chooses to not help anymore than you have to accept that and let her have her peace. Also you need to apologize to her.”

“Fine. I am sorry Amy.” She said in her version of Brent’s voice. “Apology accepted I guess.” She said in her own. This was really weird even for me.

“Second you will understand if I have to quit this mission. I can not have bodies pilling up because you have to have retribution, you are already dead after all. No use making the living suffer for a dead guy that I particularly am not too fond of at the moment.”

“Fine I guess.” Brent said through Amy.

“And finally you will give me all the information you have and aid in the investigation. I can not go everywhere but apparently, you can so you need to spill what you know.”

“He can’t go everywhere Franky.” Amy said shyly

“What? He’s a fricking ghost of course he can go everywhere.” Amy didn’t deserve my aggression “Sorry Amy. Umm.. Why can’t he go everywhere?”

“His energy is only held together when he is around those that knew and remember him. If he goes away from those people he will scatter and not be able to keep his form. His form is what gives him the semblance of thought that he has and his mind.” She finished with an ashamed glance in Brent’s direction.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense how do ghosts haunt a house then? How is he able to come to you? How can you see him?” I thought these were a valid questions. Right?

“Franky those are different kinds of spirits. For one, they have far more original energy and secondly the place they inhabit is more than likely familiar, or they were invited to live there. I don’t expect you to understand but those are a completely different sect of apparitions. Thirdly, I am special remember and I had only ever seen Brent after I came around you. And according to your own theories my mind can harness his energy and reconfigure it. So of course I can see him.” She looked at me as if she was explaining this to a child with too many questions, weary and authoritative.

“Well fine then. Brent, you will help when you can and you will give me all the information you can. Got it.”

“Got it.” Amy said for Brent.

I stood there for a moment waiting for Brent to speak. Finally I demanded him to tell me what I wanted to know.

“So… spill it. What do you know?”

“Oh that’s fabulous.” Amy said with a sarcastic chuckle. I really was piqued that she couldn’t at least tell me what he said before she responded. She was going to have to work on that.

“Oh great what?” I said exasperated.

“Well apparently Brent doesn’t know anything.”

“What? You would think you would at least find the guy who did this. He has to have a memory of murdering you.” This was getting frustrating.

“Well, you see, by time I got around to hating the guy it had been several weeks since I had died. By then all trace of him was gone and I have to wait until he remembers me to actually find out where he is. My thinking is that he is a trained assassin and he isn’t going to dwell too much on the past.” Well Amy was right this was fabulous.

“Well how in the hell do you expect me to find these people then?” I was starting to let my agitation show. Why had I ever liked Brent, again?

“I suspect they will find you.” What? Amy turned towards me, her eyes wide with astonishment. I looked at her then at the emptiness where Brent was then at Amy again. I closed my gaping jaw and turned towards Brent.

“What do you mean they will find me?” Good question Franks.

“He just vanished.” Amy said in a stunned voice.

“What do you mean he vanished?”

“Hey I am just as shocked as you are but he just left.”

“Well there are not many places he can go apparently. Where do you think he went?”

“I have no idea you said that he was popular in school. I am sure there are more places he can go than he is letting on.” She looked at me in a decisive way. I couldn’t really place the expression.

“Well shit.” I hardly swore aloud, it was mainly in my thoughts but this was definitely a deserving moment. “Well what do you think we should do?”

“I guess we have to wait till he comes back or until whoever it is comes to us.”

“Oh no we don’t.” I said forcefully.

CHAPTER 4

MY LIFE ISN'T JUST A PICKLE IT IS A BIG DILL

"I have a plan. First thing first, you need to leave." Amy opened her mouth to protest but I interrupted her for once. "Listen, you have already spent a lot of time around me and I can not have you spend more time than necessary and I can tell you probably would like to change and stuff. Also, you need to pack some clothes and things because you may end up having to stay here. Seriously Amy, the less time you spend around me the better. Also, if you wouldn't mind picking up some coffee on your way back I would appreciate it. I am going to go shower and stuff and then start researching to see what I can find out. Okay?" She nodded and got up to walk towards the door.

"Be careful stop for no one and watch your back. Got it?" She nodded again and I let her outside.

I locked the door behind her and set the alarm system for the first time in maybe two years. I barely remembered how but once I finally managed to set it I trudged up the steps to the bathroom. I shed my clothes and forced my weary body into the warm stream of the water. I took about a thirty minute shower even though I craved more. I had to get to work before Amy got back. I brushed my teeth again and went to the bedroom and put on some clean clothes. I walked across the hall to the study and turned my MP3 player on full blast, logged onto the computer and started searching.

Problem was I didn't know what to search for. Not only had it been five years but also there was not even a shred of evidence as to where to begin. As I sat the song switched, Wolf Parade came on, once again I got lost in the lyrics.

"I got a hand, so I got a fist, so I got a plan, it's the best that I can do, now we'll say it's in God's hands but God doesn't always have the best goddamn plans, does he?" I sat there in thought for a few moments as the song played out. I didn't have a plan. I had no idea where to even start.

And then I got angry. How could Brent do this? Had I really made him that angry that he would hang me out on a limb like this? And what about Amy? Who the hell does that to a person that has helped them?

Then, for the first time ever, I felt an iniquitous feeling of joy that Brent was no longer living. However, the second the thought crossed my mind I felt instantly guilty and that made me angry all over again. Why was I guilty for thinking the worst of Brent? He had clearly screwed me and Amy.

I was snapped back to reality when I heard the alarm go off and glass break at the same time.

I instantly wrenched my desk drawer open and looked for my gun. Shit where is it?

It wasn't there so I grabbed the next best thing a can of condensed air. I tipped it upside down and shaked it as I briskly crept down the hallway. I stuck to the wall and as I cautiously stepped down the stairs I poked my head around the corner. There in the living room stood a man in a black suit.

Shit. He was turned around luckily but he wasn't going to be for long. I decided to take action I came out from my hiding place and crept up behind him. I figured the can had a five foot range so once I was in five feet of the guy I took aim and said

"Who the hell are you?" Probably not the most graphic novel thing to say but I am not a superhero and he is not my arch enemy.

He swung around and as he did I sprayed the compressed air can at his face, he shrieked in pain as the frozen difluoroethane hit his skin. His face was burning. I had a flashback to Brent but I shoved it out of my mind and kept spraying. Despite the fact that the can was freezing my hands I stayed focused. Then the man lunged at me to try and knock the can out of my hands but I got his hand with the liquid stream instead and he screamed again, this time in anger.

I realized that the compressed air wasn't going to last much longer. So I turned and ran up the stairs to my room. If the gun wasn't in my study then it had to be in my end table. I blundered into my room and barricaded the door closed. The best thing I could do for myself was create time to prepare. My socked feet slide across the hardwood floors of my room. I slide to the end table and grabbed the gun box. Thank you God.

I loaded the clip into the gun and stood up and took aim. I knew I was a sitting duck here but I figured since I had barricaded the door and since I attacked him with such crude means to begin with he wouldn't be prepared for me to have a gun. I waited, and waited.

As I stood there my body started to shake from the adrenaline and my heart felt like I was going to have coronary failure. Finally, I realized I must have been standing there for over five minutes. I decided that what I did next was probably not the best action to take but I did it anyway. I reached for the chair I had used to barricade the door and silently pulled it away. I pressed my ear against the door to see if I could hear anything all I heard was the alarm going off in the main room. I held the gun steady with my right hand and stepped to the left of the door, my back to the wall and turned the knob with my left. I took a deep breath and swung the door open and removed my hand from sight as I did. With the door now open, I listened again and when I still did not hear anything but the alarm, I stuck my head out to peer on the other side of the door. I did not see anyone so I crept out of the room and into the hall way. I thanked my laziness for not putting shoes on because my sneakers would have made being stealthy a lot harder. I slinked down the hallway. I reached the stairs and repeated the process of earlier. What I saw took me by surprise. The man that had attacked me was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, there was a gaping hole in his back. What the hell?

My mind raced through a million possibilities in just a few seconds and then I came to one that seemed appropriate. I didn't hear a shot. Who killed him? Over the sound of the alarm I heard the wailing ring of the phone and went to answer it. I picked up the phone and held it to my ear. I had to yell to hear myself over the alarm.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Onni this is David from SecureX calling, your alarm has been tripped is everything okay?" Shit what do I say? Do I tell him I need the police? Do I tell him I don't. What do I do? I realized rather quickly that I couldn't tell him that I needed help.

"Hello Ms. Onni?"

"Oh sorry, Yea, everything is fine. I just accidentally broke a window. Everything is fine."

"Ms. Onni if you need the police you can say something maybe just give me an 'uh huh' or say something out of context that you can say. We will send someone right over." Well at least he was thorough.

"Everything is totally fine. I am just a klutz." I was out of practice at making up stories so I was hoping that Dave dropped it.

"Alright ma'am as long as everything is okay. Call us if you need anything." He still sounded leery.

"Thanks David. Bye" And I hung up the phone.

I knew that he was going to call the police so I had to figured out what to do with the big body taking up my living room. I figured I only had a few minutes. So I grabbed the throw off of the couch and draped it over him, I rolled the body over so that it would be on top of the blanket and I grabbed an end of the blanket and pulled with all my might. The body slid rather easily. Well the wood floors were a good idea after all.

I dragged the dead man all the way to the sun room and then grabbed the mop from the kitchen. I mopped up as much blood as I could and then moved the area rug over to cover up what I couldn't get up right away. I hope this doesn't seep through. I also went over the trail from the dragged body with the mop and then pushed the couch to be realigned with the area rug. This whole process had taken about seven or eight minutes. I decided the next best thing to do would be too check myself over for blood. I looked and applauded myself for not getting a drop on me. I inspected the room and it looked normal which was a relief.

I then put on my shoes and headed to the back door. I unlocked it and crossed the yard to the shed. I grabbed some plywood, nails and a hammer and dragged them to the front of the house and then I saw Amy's car.

The doors were left open. I set the plywood and hammer down and ran over. I looked inside my heart throbbing, Amy was not there. I did a general sweep of the yard to see if I could see her and then I ducked my head back into the car and saw inside on the passengers seat there were two spilt cups of coffee and an envelope sitting on the dash. Her keys were in the ignition turned to the off position.

My heart wrenched, she was gone. I didn't see any blood so she hopefully wasn't hurt. I had no time though I couldn't be standing here looking into the car when the cops arrived. I stood up shut the car door and took a deep breath. I trudged over to the plywood and nails and hauled them to the window and I started hammering it over the opening. I had to choke back tears as I hammered away. Just then I heard someone pull into my driveway.

I turned around to see a cop car with two policemen inside. I stood up setting the hammer down as I did. I turned to face the two men who had both stepped out of the car. I put a smile on and said "Hello sirs what brings you out here?"

"Ma'am we were called by the security company. We had a report of suspicious conditions. Is everything alright?"

"Yea I just broke the window here. I was moving around furniture and well I got a little hasty and ran the coffee table into the glass and it shattered. My alarm went off and I couldn't hear the phone over the noise. I told the guy who called that everything is fine. Sorry for the trouble." The men didn't look convinced. Well at least they were doing there job.

"Ma'am may we ask to see your I.D." Dammit. That meant going into the house.

"Yea no problem it's just inside, let me go grab it." I walked to the front door and they followed. Of course they were going to follow. I pulled out my keys from my pocket I had left the front door locked and I wrenched open the door. The alarm didn't sound, I must be draining the two men to get that stroke of luck. Great two more people to weigh on my conscience. I grabbed my satchel from it's usual hook by the door and I pulled out my wallet and got out my drivers license. I handed it to the officer closest to me. The other was looking through the door into the living room. I hoped that he didn't find anything but I was pretty sure that for once my curse would play out for the best. Hadn't it already? I had after all had enough time to clean up the blood, hide the body and I had found Amy's car and been able to nail the board up most of the way. I must have done more damage than I thought. I snapped back into reality as the cop handed me back my driver's license. He reached out his hand to shake mine.

"Well Ms. Onni looks like everything is in order here. Sorry for the trouble."

"No problem officer. Thanks for coming out." He lightly backhanded his partner on the arm to signal that they were leaving. The other cop who I noticed was much younger and thinner was still peering into my house. But he shook his head and turned with the other policeman to walk away. I waited for them to get in the car and pull out before I moved a muscle.

Once they were out of sight I ran over to Amy's car and wrenched open the door. I grabbed the envelope off the dashboard and ripped it open. Inside was a note written in hasty handwriting. It read:

We have your friend she is fine but she won't be for long. You have five hours. Contact us in that time if you want her back.

At the bottom was a phone number.

I sank into the front seat of Amy's car. Dammit. What do I do now?

CHAPTER 5

THE LEECH GOES LOOKING

I sat there for a brief moment just thinking. I had to make a plan. First thing is first I turned over the ignition to Amy’s car and shut the drivers side door. I needed to hide the car just in case. I drove it to the back by my garage parking it in one of the empty stalls. I grabbed the note and Amy’s keys and got out of the car. I shut the garage door and headed to the front of the house. I walked over to the broken window and finished hammering in the bottom nails, securing the plywood to the window frame. I picked up the unused supplies and headed back around the house to the back door. I stopped by the shed and put everything back and then I entered the house. I went through checking to make sure no one was there. I locked all the doors, shut all the curtains and disengaged the alarm. Then I headed to the sun room. There the body laid. I approached with caution. Which was probably stupid but I had heard and seen too much in the past twenty four hours to not be careful. I reached into the corpses pockets.

Inside his jacket pocket there was a dry cleaning claim ticket and a set of keys. There was an empty gun holster strapped to his belt. He had a cell phone in his pocket and in his back pocket there was a wallet. Jackpot! Turned out someone had been smart and removed all forms of identification, there was a lot of cash and a few receipts. I looked through the cell phone it yielded little information. There were no text messages no recent calls and no saved contacts. Who has a phone with no information on it? Someone who doesn’t want to be identified that’s who? I put the guy personal effects on the wicker table in the sun room. I had to find a place to put the body. For one he was going to start to smell and two if someone decided to stop by it would be a disaster. Oh come have some lemonade, oh don’t mind the dead guy he’s harmless. Yea that would go over really well.

I went through the sun room to the kitchen and out the back door. I headed into the shed. I was searching for a tarp and I found it. I grabbed the wheelbarrow as well and headed to the garage first. I was really glad that I had decided on a secluded house with a lot of land. Though I had originally bought the property to keep people at a distance it was proving to be a good location if I ever decided to become a serial killer. Strange thoughts Franks. Focus.

I draped the tarp over the bed of my Dad’s old pickup truck. I had kept it after he died and hardly ever used it but I was thankful that I had decided not to sell it after all. Once the bed was covered I took the wheelbarrow and brought it to the back door of the house. I went inside grabbed the ends of the throw and slid the body to the door. It took all my strength to hoist the body into the wheel barrow and some considerable upper body endurance to wheel the cargo over to the garage. I lowered the tailgate of the truck and pulled the dead guy into the tarped bed. I then proceeded to wrap the tarp around him. I realized rather quickly that my wrapping made it very obvious that it was a body but I remembered I had another tarp and ran back to the shed. I grabbed the extra tarp and some bungee cords from the shed and headed back to the garage. I draped the tarp over the bed of the truck as a crude canopy and used the bungee cords to secure it. I then headed back inside. I grabbed the mop again and cleaned up all the blood in the house. When I was done I looked down I realized that I had ruined my shirt. Man, I really liked that shirt.

Back to Earth Franky, you have a dead guy in the back of your truck and your friend is kidnapped. You need to be thinking.

I went to the sun room where I had placed the guys personal effects and I scooped them up. I grabbed the ransom letter and I headed to the study. This was all I had so I needed to figure out what to do with it. I placed everything on my desk and sat in my office chair. I glanced at the items one by one as my computer whirred to life. I pulled up the internet.

I typed the phone number on the note into a reverse lookup database. There were no results. It must be a disposable cell phone I had seen that in movies a million times, must have been based in fact at some point. So that was a dead end.

I searched the dead guys wallet again to see if there was anything I missed. Nope just cash.

I opened the cell phone in the phone information for the cell number. I plugged that number into reverse lookup and again nothing. No dice. Think Franky. Think. There has to be something.

I realized that I would have to call the number on the note. I reached for the phone and began to dial. Midway through I glanced down at the desktop and saw the dry cleaning claim tag. Wait!

I hung the phone up and picked up the tag off the desk. It was a normal dry cleaning tag. There were three red numbers on the bottom 517 and the dry cleaners name and number were printed at the top. Louie’s 24 Hour Dry Cleaning. I picked up the phone again and dialed the number on the tag. It rang three times before a woman answered.

“Thanks for calling Louie’s twenty four hour dry cleaning. This is Vanessa how can I help you?” I thought rather quickly, because I pulled this one out of thin air.

“Yes ma’am this is going to sound silly but my husband seems to have left a dry cleaning ticket on our refrigerator but I don’t know if it’s an old one or not. If I give you the number can you tell me if I need to come by to claim anything? I can’t reach him on his cell phone.” I was using an older sophisticated voice for this one. Man I was getting good at lying in a very short period of time.

“Sure ma’am I can do that what is the number?”

“517” I said.

“Give me one moment while I go look.”

“No problem” Hopefully she hurries.

It took a few minutes then I heard her pick up the phone. Fingers Crossed. However, I already knew there would be something there, I am lucky after all. I grabbed a pen and paper quickly so I could jot down any information she gave me.

“Yes ma’am for Peter Green of 415 West Alta Street?” She replied. Score!

“Yes ma’am that’s the one. Do we have anything?”

“Yes Mr. Green left a suit here yesterday. It is ready for pick up.”

“Okay ma’am well thank you I will swing by later to get it.” No I wouldn’t

“You’re welcome Mrs. Green it will be here waiting for you. Bye.”

I hung up the phone. It was probably rude of me but I didn’t care at the moment. I had what I needed, a name and address. I frantically typed into google and got nothing. So I googled the address. I guess I am going to have to make a house call.

I picked up the ransom note, the guys keys and the plucked the directions from the printer. I looked down at the note. I contemplated calling. I wish someone would have taught me some life skills, like what to do in a hostage situation, or how to thwart kidnappers. I trudged to the door and went to grab my satchel when I realized I was still covered in blood. Crap.

I ran back to my room and changed my clothes. I decided to go for a conservative look in order to seem older. After all I was supposed to be Peter Green’s wife not his kid. I put on some black slacks and slip on brown shoes. I threw a blouse over my frame and grabbed my leather jacket. I peered in the full length mirror in my room. Geesh not me at all. But I wasn’t supposed to be me. I grabbed a pair of dark shades and a hat. I shoved everything in my satchel, picked up my car keys and headed out the door locking it behind me. I walked out to the garage and opened the door. I saw my dad’s tarped truck, parked next to it was my red motorcycle and next to that was Amy’s car and my sedan. I chose the sedan. I unlocked the doors and climbed in. I pulled out of the garage and turned around in the driveway. I headed out onto the street and turned left like the directions told me too.

It took me about fifteen minutes to pull up to Peter Green’s house. I saw that it was a small brick rambler style house with a long drive way. I pulled in and parked in front of the garage. I let myself into the backyard through the gate right next to the carport. I saw that he had a deck with French doors leading into the house. Amazingly blindly brilliant luck. Then again I really wasn’t surprised.

I walked up the steps of the deck to the French doors. I reached inside my bag for the keys I had gotten out of Perished Peter’s pocket and I found a house key on the key ring and tried it in the door. It worked. I turned the knob and let myself into the house praying that there wasn’t a real Mrs. Green. I walked into what looked like a den area. There were two black couches in a room painted in eggshell white. A large plasma TV mounted on the wall and a black lamp on a black table next to the black couch. On the black coffee table there were magazines fanned out in a too perfect fashion and a remote sitting next to them. All the things in the room were boxy and the whole look was very assassin chic.

I gently walked through the den to the hallway on the other side of the doorway. The hallway was short and painted as white as the previous room. I decided my best shot was to either head to the office or bedroom. I assumed the bedroom was upstairs and that the office was across the hall from the den. So I headed to the office first. I tried the doorknob and it was locked. I looked through the keys again and found a small silver key. I tried it in the door and the knob turned. I entered the room. This room was just as white as the previous rooms but it was considerably messy. On the black desk there was a computer with two monitors, scattered papers hid the keyboard and mouse. Next to the desk was a filling cabinet with locks on it and next to the was a bookshelf with volumes of hand bond materials. This room had a strange feeling to it. I realized I was in the mouth of the beast. I walked over the desk and looked for business cards or any type of material to find out who this guy worked for. Looking in the drawer of his desk I found what I was looking for. Yes.

Inside there was a bunch of what looked like work material. All of it was stamped with a company logo. The embossed letters read AGH. I wiggled the guys mouse on the desk and his computer came to life. I pulled up the internet browser and typed AGH in the search bar. It pulled up one company in the area, Aster Grant and Hughes Genetic Research. Wait, wait, wait dead guy works for a research company? Maybe this was a dead end. So I turned to the file cabinet. I used another small key on the key ring and wrenched the drawer open. Inside were files with names on them each had a number next to all the names. I glanced at the names and then I saw something disturbing, my name was amongst the folders. I pulled the file and sat down at the desk.

I opened the sheath, the first page had a picture of me in the right hand corner of the page, I noticed that it was my school photo from when I was sixteen. On the sheet I could see my personal information.

Name: Felicite Onni 0069143
Alias: Franky Onni
Date of Birth: 16 April 1989
Biological Parents: Felix Onni 0021543 (Father)
Gwenneth Maddox 0084215 (Mother)

I skimmed down it was all there, everything from my social security number to my hair and eye color. I turned the page and I saw a bold heading that read “Character Briefing” below it read a few short paragraphs. I skimmed over the information a few sentences stood out as I did.
“Onni has not surfaced in the public for five years. However she does maintain a virtual identity and has contact with people through the use of chat rooms.”
“Onni is greatly empathetic and intelligent. Her resourcefulness is immeasurable.”
“Onni seems to lack the capacity for control, she is labeled as a level five unknown threat.”

What? What was this? It seemed that they had a whole dossier on me and my life. I flipped through the rest of the pages. They had everything from a psychological profile to my known associates. There were reference numbers and coding all over the pages. But my time was up.

I heard the front door of the house being unlocked and opened. And then I heard a female voice say “Oh hey Mrs. Johnson, how are you?”

And I heard the door shut again. I had a few precious moments to get the hell our of here. I grabbed the file and shoved it in my bag. Closed the file cabinet and leaned out the door of the office to look down the hallway. I locked the door behind me and went across the hall to the den. At that moment I heard the woman come in. I shut the door to the den behind me slowly but she heard me anyway.

“Dad, you home from work already? Who’s car is that outside?“ I heard her coming. I froze but then I realized how stupid of an idea that was. I opened the French doors and bolted outside to the fence. And wrenched the gate open and slammed it behind me. I grabbed my car door and flung it open and threw myself inside closing the door behind me. I started the ignition and backed out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. I made sure I faced away from the house so that I wouldn’t pass by it and gunned the accelerator.

That was close. After I got over the shock of how close it was I realized that the girl was Peter Green’s daughter and I felt the guilt poor over me. For so long it had been okay that he was dead and lying wrapped in a tarp in the bed of my pickup truck. For a minute there I was fine with the notion that he was just a blood thirsty assassin with no moral backbone and no history. But now I knew he had a daughter. He had someone depending on him. You didn’t kill him. His buddies killed him. He would have lived had they not. I tried to convince myself that none of this was my fault but I knew that it was. I knew that all of it was my fault. I knew that I was the only one in my life that was left unscathed.

I drove all the way back to my house. I had accomplished something after all and I had to do more research so that I could get further and maybe have a chance at setting things right. I drove down the street to my house and saw a black SUV parked on the street and a large plumbing van parked on the other side of the street. I decided to drive past them in an attempt to see if they were suspicious. They definitely were. The SUV had to men sitting in the front seat both looked like they were wearing black suits and dark sunglasses. Very suspicious. I realized these people were probably a very crude surveillance team sent to wait for me to come home.

I guess this means plan B.

But what was plan B?

CHAPTER 6

PLAN B


I had too get to a computer.

What's today? Sunday? I confirmed with my cellphone. So that meant the library and the college were out of the picture.

Where to go?

I drove down the strip and saw what I was looking for an electronics store. One problem the parking lot was full.

This being the billionth dilemna today made me feel exhausted. I could use the energy, but wasn't that wrong? I shook my head. It was my only choice.

I pulled off the access road and into the parking lot. A front spot opened up for me right away I parked, got out and walked inside. I was glad that I had dressed the way I had so that people would think I was browsing and not messing around. I went inside and headed to the computer section located at the back of the store. I walked up to a random laptop and pulled up the internet browser and went to google. I typed in Aster Grant and Hughes Genetic Research. It took a few seconds for the results to pop up. The wifi was terrible. When the results came up I pulled the tag from the front of the laptop I was at and wrote down the address, as I was closing out of the browser and putting the paper in my pocket a young salesman walked up.

"Hi ma'am how are you? I see your looking at the HP there did you need help with anything?" He was charming in an "I smell commision" kind of way. I turned to him and looked at him for a brief second.

"I am okay thanks. I am just looking." I had to get out of here. He looked at me and then he started talking again. Oh Jesus.

"You know we have a credit card promotion going on right now. If you are approved or deal will excempt you from interest and payments for ninety days. Also..." I tuned him out at this point. I was thinking of an escape plan. As I looked around I saw families walking around the store, teenagers looking at MP3 players and cellphones and a couple holding hands looking at movies. I was taking in the moment trying to think of what to do next when I realized that I had been listening to the salesman for a while. I looked up at him just as he was saying.

"So do you think you would like to apply for that card and see if you can take that HP home today?" I was going to say no but all of a sudden there was a huge crash. I jerked my head in the direction of the noise. I saw that one of the mounted TV's had fallen off the wall onto a person. Then the screaming started.

The salesman stood on his toes looking with shock in the direction of the crushed customer. He looked so shock and then he said "Oh shit. Did that really just happen?"

Yes it had and I needed to get out of here before anything else did.

I went to walk past the salesman but I heard something right about me snap and I pushed him out of the way just in time. Glass shattered behind us what looked like a flourescent light bulb had fallen from the ceiling. The guy started stammering and shocked. He was crawling away from where the light had fell. Realizing how close he had been to being impaled. He was in my way though so I pushed myself off the ground and bolted from the store. I tore through the chaos out the front doors and hurdled myself into my car. I had to get the hell out of here before the place blew up. I sped out of the parking lot onto the access road and almost clipped a SUV.

Great! Perfect!

I almost screamed I was so frustrated.

Way to go!

On the brightside I had got what I needed. But was there really a brightside to all of this? I drove just thinking and by time I came back to reality I realized I was on the other side of town. I looked at the streets and figured that I was about forty minutes from where I needed to be. Where did I need to be? Endangering more people? Performing a suicide mission to rescue Amy? My heart wrenched with that last one. What was I thinking? I owed it to Amy. I really did. Then again she had endangered herself. I had warned her to stay away, I had tried to convince her that I was not a good person to have around. And she had conned me she had used my guilt and desperation against me. She had brought Brent's wrath on to me and herself. I hated this. I loathed this more than anything. I would take all the lonely days the world had to offer to get over the agony of this guilt. I had been fine. I was dealing and then Amy came along.

I pulled over and starred out the windshield for a few minutes. So what do you want to do?

"I don't know Okay!" As the words passed my lips I realized how crazy it was too be screaming at myself. I had to decide. Was I going to drive away and never look back? Was I going to abandon the only friend because things had gotten rocky? Was I going to let her die?

I sat for what was probably twenty minutes and then I decided. I would go to AGH I would do what I could to save Amy and then I would figure out the rest.

But I had to think about this though. I couldn't just waltz into the front doors of a AGH. I had no idea if they knew who I was and if they were the ones looking for me they would definitely recognize me right away. Well I guess it is disguise time, but that meant another store. Where was a store that potentially sold disguises that would not be crowded? And then I had a flashback to the day my mother had taken me out shopping. We had gone to buy my first set of makeup. It was one of those ridiculously high priced stores located in a secluded shopping center. Money wasn't an object so I headed there.

As I drove I had to think of what I would do when I got there. There would be people there working and after the last incident I had serious doubts about whether or not people would live this time. I had to calm down. Breath Franky Breath. I had to do this. I had too. There was no other way. I couldn't just walk into that building after all.

As I found my resolve I drove into the parking lot of the shopping center. I parked and walked towards the building. I went through the front doors and my first thought was Why are there so many people here? There had to be about thirty people packed into a small area in the store. I heard the booming voice of the person addressing them talking. It must be a demonstration.

"Don't you hate unsightly hair on your face, legs and underarms? When you use normal waxes your skin can get irritated and it is painful. Don't fret though ladies we have a solution to your woes, the new and improved antiwax. Our patented formula eliminates the need for wax by utilizing natural chemicals to gently disolve hair folicals and eliminate unwanted hair." She was cheery and persuasive. I walked to the big wig display and pulled a blonde one from one of the manicans. I grabbed a pack of hair socks and a thing of ponytail clips and bobby pins. I b-lined for the register and placed my items on the counter. The gum chewing teenage girl at the counter looked snottily at me and started to ring up my items. As she rung them up she started talking in a condescending voice.

"Would you like to sign up for an instore credit card and save ten percent on your next purchase?"

"No thank you." Did she really expect to get sales?

"Did you want to add any soap or shampoo? We are having a buy one get one free sale."

"No I am fine thanks." I said

"Alright will this be all?"

And then I heard it. A woman screaming in agony. I wearily turned my head and looked in the direction. From where I was I could see a woman holding her leg and crying in agony. My eyes followed her arms down to her leg and I could see even from that distance that large boils were forming over the surface of her skin. No way! I had been in here for what ten minutes? This was bad. What was going on? The girl at the front desk was starring with a apathetic curiosity. It was a curious looked at the digital display that showed my total two hundered and fifty dollars. Well I guess it was worth it. I slapped three hundred dollars on the counter and told her to keep the change and I grabbed my bag and walked out. Jesus. I was shaking by time I got to my car but I had to move forward I had to perservere.

I sat in my car and pulled out the ponytails clips and bobby pins. It took me a few times to get my hair into the pontail because I was shaking so bad. Once it was finally up I secured everything with the bobby pins and placed the hair net on and then secured the wig. I looked strange. The wig was realistic but my eyebrows are as dark as my hair. I remembered that I had my sunglasses and I grabbed them from my satchel. I looked like a whole other person. It was funny. I started laughing hysterically. Once I got over my giggles I became solemn and I realized when was going to happen next.

CHAPTER 7

THOUGH I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH I WILL FEAR NO EVIL OR SOME CRAP LIKE THAT


I drove down the streets to the industrial part of town. There was an assortment of high rises in this area. I looked for the street listed in the address. When I finally found it I parked across the street from the building. AGH genetics was a very modern and tall building with tinted glass paneling up and down the expanse of the building. It looked daunting all that dark glass. You couldn't see in but I was sure all those people inside could see out. I felt a knot form in my stomach; it was like I had eaten a brick.

With unsteady hands I pulled some change out of my wallet to feed the meter and stepped out of the car. I probably looked like your average modern business woman with my blonde hair and mature attire. I glanced in the passenger side window of my car as I fed the meter. I really did look like someone else. Maybe this is what Amy wore to work. This made my nerves worse. What if she was never able to open her grief counseling center? What if I was walking into a trap?

Get a grip you are going to save her.

I glanced at my watch I had about two hours till the deadline the kidnappers had given me was up. Plenty of time to at least do some reconnaissance. At the very least I'd have a plan on how to get out. I looked before I crossed the street and walked up the stairs to the revolving door at the front of the building. As I walked through I saw that the lobby was unmanned except for a young woman in her early twenties. She had her hair stacked on her head in a very fifties beehive do. She was wearing way too much makeup and she was talking animatedly into her headset that wrapped her ear and crossed her face.

I looked around for a second while she was distracted and I saw the women's room. I headed there and once inside I went into one of the stalls. I raised my feet and hid. I waited and sure enough I heard the door open. The sound of heels on the tile let me know it was a woman.

As the girl passed the stall I was in I saw it was the receptionist. She looked under the stalls puzzled and as she headed to the back of the large bathroom I exited the stall I was hiding in. With the most agility and speed I could muster I snuck up behind her and shoved her into the wall. Her head bounced off the tile and she fell to the floor, she was out cold. I was stunned that I had done so much damage but I checked her pulse she was alive and with that I plucked the headset off her ear and dragged her body into the handicapped stall. I propped her up onto the toilet so that if anyone entered they would only see feet. I locked the stall door and wiggled out underneath.

As I stood up I straightened my outfit and wig and placed the headset over my ear. I walked out of the bathroom and into the lobby. I sat behind the receptionist's desk and looked at the screen. There was a list of icons, one labeled calendar, the internet explorer and then I saw one titled employee directory. I clicked and the application opened an excel spread sheet and I saw that there were over a hundred entries. I pulled the ransom note out of my bag and pushed control f and then typed in the number listed. The document scrolled down to the number I had entered the name next to it read Thomas Taylor office number three twenty-five internal affairs. Internal affairs... pshh... more like assassin affairs.

So I had a place to start all I had to do was figure out a reason to go up there. I looked around beehives desk and saw a package sitting underneath it. It was an unlabeled brown box and I knew this was my ticket. I grabbed the box and my bag, I realized this would look suspicious but I couldn't leave it here what if it was found? I headed for the elevator. I assumed three twenty-five meant the third floor so I punched the third floor button and as the elevator silently pulled up my heart almost stopped. When the door whooshed open I let out me breath and I walked strongly and with purpose out of the elevator. I was in front of three zero one and saw a sign that pointed me in the appropriate direction. I walked down the hall and stopped in front of three twenty-five the door had a placard on it that said "Thomas Taylor" so I knew I was in the right spot. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" The man on the other side bellowed. I pushed the door open and walked in shutting the door behind me.

"Yes what do you want?" He didn't even look up from his paperwork.

"Yes Mr. Taylor, I am Lexi, the temp from reception." I tried sounding innocent and dense.

"Yea what are you doing up here?' He seemed annoyed more than suspicious.

"Well you see the other girl went home sick and I got called in and they didn't show me how to work the phone, and this package came for you so I decided to bring it up here." Where did that come from? It really was getting scary how good I was becoming at lying. He motioned towards his desk and pointed still not looking up.

"Set it there and get back down stairs." I walked over to the desk and set it on the spot he had told me. I say on his desk a large brass reading lamp. I paused gathering the courage. He looked up.

"What are you still..." I had found the courage before he had finished. With the lamp I swung hitting him square in the jaw before he could finish. While he was stunned I pounced on top of him. Though I would never call myself built I am very muscular and strong. My mom used to say that I was "strong like ox" when I was younger. Despite this I was still surprised that I overtook Thomas Taylor, he definitely had the build necessary to kill people, but he was easily stunned and by time he regained his mobility I had him on his stomach hands behind his back.

I held his wrists together with my left hand and used my body weight to press him down. With the other hand I held the broken lamp and used my teeth to rip the chord from the back of it. Once I had it free of the lamp, I wound the cord around his wrists and folded his legs up to use the rest of the length to hog tie him. Wow what luck that this guys lamp had a long chord. Was it really though? I looked down at the hog tied man and before he could start screaming I kicked him in the face.

He looked up at me stunned. I looked down at him angry.

"It's Sunday I know hardly anyone is here so you can scream if you want too but I am just going to kick you again, next time though, it is going to be in a much less kick friendly area. Got it?" He looked up at me blankly. I could tell he was confused. I starred him down for a few moments. I knew this was a good tactic but I also knew I had to regain my strength a little bit. Once I felt like I was a little calmer I spoke again.

"You and a few of your friends kidnapped a girl this morning. Where is she?" He looked up at me with a blank expression then he looked away.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about." He mumbled.

"They teach you how to kill but they don't teach you how to lie? That's some superb training you got there. Now you are going to tell me what you know or I will torture you." I leered at him. I really was trying my best to scare this guy but I wasn't sure if it was working. He laid there silently. I decided that reason was the best tactic.

"Listen, I thwarted security to get up here, I was able to breach your office and I have you hog tied on the floor. It is sufficient to say that I am a crafty bitch. Now you are going to tell me what I need to know or you will find out how crafty I can really be. Now where is she?" That would have scared the crap out of me so I figured it would work on him too but he just laid there.

Now, I was getting mad. I really didn't like being violent. My curse was violent enough, I had never needed to enact destruction myself I was always an innocent bystander but I was getting angry with this guy and I had no idea what to do so I kicked him in the stomach.

No wonder people like too fight. I felt gratified that he was sputtering but then I felt like a monster. I had too control my face to hide the self-loathing. I found my resolve rather quickly when I thought back too why I was here… Amy. I had to go through with this. The tenacious Thomas Taylor had stopped squirming. I looked down at him trying to emblaze my face with as much chagrin as I could and I just starred. For a few minutes he lied there and then I saw a bead of sweat trickling down his face. I had him he just didn’t want to show it. He was trying to be brave but he was humiliated. I looked down at him and said.

“Listen, Your number was on a ransom note left in a girl’s car. I know you know something. I am only going to sit here and reason with you for so long, after that no matter what physical pain I put you through it will be nothing compared to what will happen just from being around me.” That got his attention because after I said that he jerked his head up to look at me. He was partially stunned and partially smug. He must have known who I was from that last part and when his lips parted to form a smile I knew that he was fully aware of my identity.

“So you aren’t as smart as they say. We have been trying to find a way to get to you for a while and then you just walk in here and neatly gift wrap yourself for us.” I was shocked by this a little. Stunned partially because he said I was an idiot and also because I had lost all the power I had gained. One little slip of my mouth and I had wasted precious moments of my time. I had to gain the upper hand back.

“You see Tom I don’t think you understand what a predicament you are in. You have spent over ten minutes with me. I am draining you as we speak. You dear dear tom.” I reached down and tapped his cheek with those words and then I grabbed his face and squeezed it with my right hand. “Are going to tell me what I want to know so that I will leave this office and you can at least have a decent life afterward. Not to mention the physical pain I will inflict in about thirty seconds if you don’t tell me where she is.” I had grabbed his shirt and I was pulling him up towards my face. He must have been in pain, being hog tied I speculate is not comfortable, but I released him from my grasp and he fell onto his own hands and feet crushing them beneath his own body. He looked at me with determination but contemplation, his resolve was waning now.

“Can you really do what they say you can do?” I decided to play coy. I leaned against the wall and looked at my nails like I had seen villains do in movies a million times.

“What do they say that I can do Tom?” I glared at him over my fingers.

“Well when we broke into your house our man was burned all over his face and hands. We had no idea that you were that strong; no one had seen you in years. Can you really destroy people at will?” I had never been able to do anything at will it just happened and I had used a condensed air can on that guy to burn him like that. I decided though, in that moment, that it was best if Thomas Taylor was terrified. I starred him directly in the eyes.

“Yes it is true.” The look on his face was priceless. If this was a movie I would have cheered, but it wasn’t so I just looked at him as sternly as I could and then he cracked.

“STOP STARRING AT ME!” He wailed.

“Not until you tell me where the girl is.” I said with a snarl and I kept looking at him. He seemed to think this had something to do with eye contact apparently their research into my life had yielded less information than I had thought.

“They are holding her in the basement of the building. In the engineering lab. Lab room two point one four” Finally! I walked over to Tomas Taylor turned him on his stomach and took off his shoes. I ripped off both his socks balled them up and shoved them in his mouth and I grabbed the scotch tape off his desk and wrapped it around his head holding the socks in place. He would be quiet now.

I stood up and looked down at him. “Well Mr. Taylor it has been a pleasure and you have been very helpful enjoy the rest of your life.” As I was walking out I saw on his desk a key pass I grabbed it and then I turned on my heels and walked out of his office. I had what I needed, now I just had to figure out a way to get what I wanted.

Having the key pass was a definite advantage but the security cameras in the hallway weren’t. I also had to wonder if the receptionist I had knocked out earlier had come too. And if so where the hell was security? This was so strange; I hadn’t seen one security guard and I knew I couldn’t possibly that lucky. It was kind of unbelievable. I walked determined to the elevator but I saw a stairway instead. I decided to take that. It seemed like the best idea too me after all, if I was a security guard I would take the elevator. Turns out I was right because right as I was going through the stairwell I heard the elevator door ding. I shut the door behind me silently and listened from the other side. Everything was muffled because the door was heavy and probably metal but I heard two men talking loudly to each other.

“We go on break and look what happens! It’s Sunday for Christ’s sake. Who breaks in on a Sunday.” Me that’s who.

Well great they were looking for me now. It didn’t seem like there were that many though, unless they had sent someone to each floor but I remembered just then. I had never closed out of the computer at the reception desk. Stupid! So they were headed straight to Mr. Tattle Taylor’s office. Well surely they were going to know where I was headed in a few moments. I had to hurry. I started booking it down the stairs.

One flight, according to the sign on the wall, second floor.

Two flights, first floor.

Three flights, main floor.

Four flights Man I wish I could have worn sneakers, basement.

I held my breath. I had found myself face to face with the door leading to the basement area. I had no idea what laid before me but I had to carry on. I straightened myself and walked through the door into what seemed to be an alcove type area.

The walls were white painted brick and before me was a tinted glass door. Once again I couldn’t see through the glass but I figured people could see out. I saw no shadowed figures walking on the other side so I approached the door key card in my hand and I swiped Taylor’s card in the slot. The door opened pneumatically with a gasp. I walked through.

I was in a long sterile T-shaped hallway. Extending to my right and left were darkened hallways with no doors just openings which I assumed were more hallways. In front of me was a long narrow hallway. I followed straight and I looked around there were name placards on the doors to my right and down the hall to my left was a wall of glass windows.

Inside the window banks I saw various things. One seemed to be an observation room currently cluttered with toys, puzzles and games all the colors in the room were primary. They test children here?

This was so strange; I continued down the hallway and looked into the windows on the wall. One was set up like an infirmary. There was a man laying on one of the beds an IV hooked to his arm. He looked young but he looked like he was wasting away. I saw that one of the offices to my right was open so I looked inside no one was there. A lab coat with another pass key was hanging over a chair. I took the pass key; it had a woman’s name on it. That seemed more convincing than Taylor’s key.

I walked out of the office and started looking at all the placards on the doors looking for lab room two point fourteen. I was currently by room one point fifteen which meant that I needed to continue down the hall way or go over to the next one. I decided that my last instinct was the best. I went to the beginning of where I started and passed the dying man again, the children’s observation room. I was at the beginning of the hall way and I took a left. I followed down. I turned left when I reached the next hallway. This hallway was laid out differently; there were heavy doors with small glass windows inset into them, the windows looked to be made of safety glass. I tried to glance inside to see if anyone was there but these windows were also tinted. I walked down the hallway.

Two point twelve, two point thirteen, and….

Two point fourteen. . I took a deep breath again and I stood in front of the door. I tried to peer inside and see if I could pinpoint any people in the room. I couldn’t so I slide the pass key into the slot. It beeped to let me in and I grabbed the handle of the door and turned it slowly and silently. I cracked the door so I could see inside and what I saw was sheer horror.