Me + Boredom + a chance at inspiration + Time = Story.

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It is late. Two in the morning, three, four..? Oh what does it matter? Time is an illusion to me now, ever since that night. That one night that completely changed my life. A burst of wind shakes the tree I'm sitting on lightly, and I clutch at the trunk for support. Aside from being late, it's also very cold - and my thin blue scarf won't be able to hold me for much longer.

I long for my warm bed, my house, my family and friends. But it's all gone now. Because of him.

I climb upwards in my tree in search of a larger branch to lay on. I won't go down in case he's still out there looking. I'm the only one who survived after all: the witness. He wants to get rid of me most likely, and the ground is not safe.

Finally I come to something that will do. I lay my head on top of my scarf and wrap my arms around the branch. My back aches in discomfort and it seems like warmth is a feeling I'll never experience again, but I close my eyes slowly.

It seems like years since I've slept, though I know it's only been a few days. I bite my lip in hopes to calm the hunger, thirst, and pain that's taking over my body but I know that I'll have to go down soon. I wonder absent-mindedly how far the nearest town is. I can't go back to my beautiful city of Charleston, South Carolina. I cannot seek comfort in the few of my friends that were not victims. A warm tear drips down the side of my face and falls down to the ground. With no moon in the sky, I can't see it land, only fall into the never ending darkness.

I fall asleep thinking of home.

I. The First

I wake up to the sound of birds, although I can't say it's beautiful. They're angry, crying into the sky with rage. What for, I wonder. Are they lost, were they forced to leave home with no protection? I sit up and stretch, being careful to balance on the thick branch.

Just then my stomach growls violently, sending ripples of pain throughout me. My throat is as dry as a desert, burning every time I swallow. I have to go down, I have to.

After taking several deep breaths and looking around cautiously, I reach my foot (the one that still has a shoe on it) downwards until it comes in contact with something solid. Carefully, I pull myself downward until both feet are secure. I continue doing this until finally I touch the ground.

I grew up in a large house, far away from wilderness and danger. I never went to camp - other than an occasional art or technology class - so my survival skills were even more limited. I doubt I can start a fire or catch food, or even find water. But I have to try.

First on the list is liquid. It is late July in the middle of summer, and it hasn't rained in months. Why is it so cold at night though? I shake that thought out of my head and begin walking towards the sun. The sun rises in the east. Or is it west? I pause and put my head in my hands, This was hopeless. I am going to die out here, scared and alone.

My legs collapse from under me and I fall in a pile on the ground. I've let my guard down - and now the memories flood into my mind like a river breaking past a dam.

He crosses the room gracefully, like a dancer. But so much more terrifying. He looks to be only a year or two older than me, and he wears jeans and a simple white shirt - no shoes. His dark green eyes are focused straight ahead, at my mother who sits cowering on the couch. He has done no harm yet. But with the horrifying smile on his face, and the faint glimmer of a knife in his back pocket I know it's coming. Soon.

"You understand why I have to kill you?" he asks my mother quietly. His voice is smooth and seductive. It should be found in a happy romance film, not in a terror scene like this.

"N-no," she manages to stutter, shrinking back in to the pillows. I do not know why he is set on murdering the whole house actually. My friends and I came into the room too late to understand that. Now, we wait - shaking - in the corner of my living room.

"A shame," he continues, cocking his head to the side. "But I don't have time to explain again. I'm almost out of time."

He steps forward and pulls a small dagger out, lifting it up so it reflects off of the move. My friend Carlie gasps in terror. We can't do anything to stop him, or can we? Jessica, Carlie's sister, seems intent on trying. She sprints forward yelling and jumps full force on his back knocking him to the side. But his grip on the dagger is not loosened, and he did not fall. She releases her hold around his neck, but he's fast. He grabs her wrist and twists it behind her back. She screams with pain, and he growls softly, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"You couldn't wait could you?" he whispers, "Wait like a good girl for your turn? It would be easier, I promise. I don't come to cause more pain than necessary. Only a quick cut then it's all over. Now I'm afraid I have to get rid of you the harder way."

He throws her down to the floor, leaning down to hold her there. My eyes grow wide with fear. So much fear that I can't believe this room can contain it. She's going to die, my best friend's sister is going to die. I close my eyes, as her final scream is cut short. When I open them, he's standing up again, and all that's left of Jessica is a pool of scarlet blood.

I suck in a quick breath, jumping up off the dirty ground. I look around quickly and exhale, he's not here yet. The first to go, little Jessica. She was only fourteen.. so much life ahead of her. But she was braver than the rest of us.

I walk for what seems like about six hours, heading in what I suppose is a straight line. But out here, how do you tell? Each tree looks the same, each bush resembling the ones around it. I am just about to give up when my one bare foot steps in something wet. I look down, seeing a small puddle of dirty mud-water. It has to be close.

Running now, I take off and follow a trail of more dirty puddles. They lead to a river, and I am so happy I could cry. I drink in the water eagerly, leaning so far that one more inch would make me fall in. First step, complete.



[size=1][color=#666666]This message was edited by Circe on Jan 03 2009.

II. Why?

I am so full of water that my body sloshes as I walk. Or it feels like it. But the liquid cannot fill the growing hunger that I feel. I have seen berries up in a tree, but I didn't bother to try to get them. They were bright green - meaning they were either poison or not ripe yet. I will never know. I follow the river for a few reasons, the first one being that I will get thirsty again. Also, all rivers lead somewhere, and since I am following it downstream it will empty in the ocean eventually. Everybody loves the beaches in South Carolina, I can get help there... if I make it. The third reason is that maybe some time I'll learn how to catch a fish. I hate fish, but if it's that or dying of starvation I think I can endure the smell. Of course that makes me conquer my fear of starting a fire (ever since my preschool almost burnt down I have tried to avoid it as much as possible).

The sun is setting now, in the west... or whatever the hell it is. Why didn't I go to at least one of those nature camps? I could've learned something useful, something that would save me out here. In all of the eighteen years of my life I was never smart enough to just do it. Stupid.

Suddenly a wave of exhaustion sweeps through me. I've been walking for a long time, but if I stop now, what if he finds me? All alone, by the river. He could just kill me in my sleep and through my body into the water. He'd never be caught, I'd never be found. But yet, my eyelids are like weights and my vision is blurring slowly. My body drops to the ground, and I no longer have control over my actions. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep, with the sound of crickets and water humming in my ears. And I dream. Hell yes, I dream.

It's only me and Carlie left. She wraps her arms around me, sobbing. We're both sobbing. The lost all hope, going to die, can't breathe kind of sobbing. He looks at us, only two feet away, with an expression that could have been concern. But he didn't care about us. If he did, he wouldn't have done this.

A pile of five bodies lies in the middle of my living room. My mother, my father, Jessica, and my two brothers - both of them had tried to fight the murderer, but to no avail. He is strong, fast, and smart. And he is clearly very good at this. Each of them was killed the same way - the dagger slicing a thin line through their throat. It was quick and easy. They only had time scream for half of a second. At least he is not the kind of person who enjoys torture.

He sighs at our crying. "Must you do this to me?"

"W-what?" I mumble hopelessly.

"Make me seem like the bad guy?"

"You ARE!" Carlie screeches, her sadness suddenly transforming into anger.

"Well I suppose so if you look at it from your point of view. But really, you just don't understand. And I'm afraid I'm running out of time so I won't be able to tell you two," he answers calmly. I tighten my grip around my best friend and bury my face into her jacket. Maybe it's all a dream and he'll go away. The pile of bodies on the floor will all be fake and I can go back to the fun party that was supposed to occur tonight.

Moments later, I feel Carlie being pulled away from me. I cry and scream and protest, but it's hopeless. In another moment, she yelps and then a soft thud sounds in the room. She's dead like the others. Like me in a few moments.

And because it is all I can do, I yell as loud as I can: "WHY?"

When I wake up it's still completely dark. Only a sliver of the white moon shows in the sky, and there are no stars. It is quiet, and not even the crickets play their song. I know I should go back to sleep - traveling is not smart at this hour, but I feel restless.

With no other choice, I stand up and begin once again to follow the river. It gleams brightly, providing a bright light when the moon is hidden by thick trees. No fish penetrate the surface, no rocks jutting here and there. It is perfectly calm - flowing gently towards the ocean. If only I could say the same for me. I am not calm, and I do not have a known destination.

My parents have always told me that no matter how much you think that life sucks, there's somebody that has it worse. That statement is hard to believe right now. I cannot think of anything worse than seeing six people you care about being murdered right in front of you, then being forced to run away into the forest with no survival knowledge, no help, and no hope.

Is there something I did to deserve this? Why me? Why?

Wow, this is one of the best stories I've seen here, I must admit. Everything is great.

Seriously though, why is he killing them? D:
I can't wait to find out D:

Wow, thanks! And you'll find out... EVENTUALLY!

---

III. Arrival

Finally, a small streak of sunlight peaks up behind the hills in the distance. The sky is a pale gray with no clouds, no birds, nothing. I still walk beside the river as it twists and turns through the trees - snaking through the forest. It's rushing waters help to keep me sane. I have put up the barrier around my mind again, to block out the memories. Remembering will not help me. I have cried all my tears already, and I refuse to feel sadness until I know it's worth it. After that my mind is set on finding that murderer and destroying him - no matter what consequences lie in the wake.

Suddenly, there is an unexpected absence in the river. I jog forward in confusion, to discover a small waterfall. But that is not the reason why I gasp and step backwards in shock. For beyond the river is a small village of houses. And houses equals food. There is no reason to be slow anymore, so I sprint full speed ahead down the small cliff and ahead the the civilization. It must be five or six in the morning, but I can't wait. Somebody has to be kind enough to let me in at this hour, if only they knew.

I stop at the first house - a large country-style building with pale blue paint and white trim. In front is a large wooden deck, with some elegant white patio furniture and a few toys lying around. On the door there is a sign that says "There's no place like home!" and a stick-figure drawing of four people holding hands. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door. Just that collison sends a small wave of aching through my arm. Everything hurts, and I have cuts and bruises from walking through the trees. I wonder how I will look to an average family all torn up like this. Will they think I'm a beggar?

After some time, the door opens ever so slightly. It's a young boys face, and through the open crack I can see he's still in pajamas. He has freckles covering his nose and pumpkin-orange hair that stuck out in different directions. A face that anybody could love, so adorable and innocent. So lucky. The boy gasps upon seeing me, then rushes inside, leaving the door open. Getting his mom?

I wait patiently outside for another minute, hoping for the best. All I need is some food, I can live another day in these clothes. Just food...

"Oh my!" a tall women exclaims, opening up the door all the way. She has the same orange hair as her son pulled up into a messy bun. She wears a fuzzy pink robe with matching slippers, and I can't help but smile. She reminds me of my mom. "What happened to you?"

"I.."

"Oh never mind we need to get you inside, come on!" she interuppts. I step cautiously inside her warm home. It is decorated beautifully, but it still has just enough mess to say that it is happily lived in. She leads me over to a large floral couch and tells me to sit down, looking worried all the while.

"Thank you," I manage to mumble when she sat down next to me.

"Of course! But sweetie are you okay? Do you need something?"

"J-just something to eat p-please."

She is up out of her seat in an instant, rushing out of the room to what I hope is the kitchen. I lean back into the sofa and close my eyes. The soft cushion feels wonderful on my sore back, and once again I want to fall asleep. A sudden growl from my stomach stops that feeling in its tracks though, and I sit up again and wait.

She is back carrying a steaming hot bowl of what smells like sweet cinnamon outmeal. I lick my lips absent mindedly and reach out for the food. Screw manners, I need this! Without I word I begin shoveling huge bites into my mouth. It burns against my tounge but the creamy mixture tastes to good to wait. It's empty in less than a minute, and I smile sheepishly at the kind lady.

Now that I am fed, everything is much more clear, and I recover the ability to be polite. "Thank you so much. I don't mean to be rude just intruding.."

She shakes her head, laughing at my hunger. "Not at all, I can tell you were hungry. Let's get you washed up and into some clean clothes and then you can tell me what happened, okay?"

"Okay. Um, but wait. How far are we from Charleston?"

"A good days drive I think, why?"

I let out a sigh of relief, "I just needed to know."

The shower feels so good on my mud-caked skin that I feel as if I could stay there forever. Luckily for me, it does take awhile to comb though my hair with my fingers and thouroughly rinse it with the shampoo and conditioner provided for me. I stand happily under the water for a good fifteen minutes until I know I cannot get any cleaner, then step out and wrap a fluffy towel around my body. I'm noticeably skinnier, but whether it's from lack of food or pure terror I'm not sure. How long has it been anyway? At least a week I suppose.

Quickly, I change into the large T-shirt and jean shorts that lie on the bathroom floor, towel-dry my hair and put it up with a hair band I find, then hang up the towel and walk slowly out the door. My savior is there waiting on the couch, reading a magazine casually. She smiles brightly when she sees me, "I sure hope that felt good!"

"Very. Thanks again," I say quietly.

"Please stop thanking me!" she replies laughing, "By the way, you can call me Josie. Now, you ready to tell me?"

IV. What Happened

"It started a few days ago. I can't say how long really because I don't know what it is today. Anyways, I had invited my best friend and her sister to spend the night and have a little party, since I was going to college in a few weeks. It was a normal night at the beginning, watching movies and telling jokes, and trying to stay away from my two annoying brothers. My dad was in his office working, and my mom was on the couch reading a book."

"I remember hearing a knock on the door, but neither me or my friend went to look. But a few minutes later, things got wrong. I heard my mom breathing heavily, whispering words like "stop" and "why" and "please don't". And there was a man's voice too, speaking quietly and smoothly. Finally, my friend, her sister, and I went out to see what it was. My mom was shaking against the sofa, and I could see she was crying. She looked at me frantically when I walked in. I didn't know what was wrong. That's when I saw the man across the room. He was looking at me, his head tilted to the side and his eyes squinted ever so slightly. He had the brightest green eyes I'd ever seen. B-but then he s-said that we were all gonna d-die... I didn't know what he was talking about. Before I knew it he was walking across the room towards my mom. He pulled out a d-da-dagger. My friend's sister tried to stop him, but it was useless... he k-killed her f-first. Then came my mom, then dad, then brothers, then Carlie... I was n-next..."

It isn't until now that I realize I am crying, tears streaming down my face all over her couch. I lean over and bury my head in my knees, trying to get the broken sobs to stop. I want my mom and dad, my friends, my annoying but lovable brothers. I want my house and my life back! I WANT IT NOW!!

Josie is in shock next to me, so much that she can't even try to comfort me. I know that she would have if she could, I understand. I don't expect anything else from her, she's already given me more than I could've asked for in the first place. But she can't give me the one thing I want right now - everything back.

Finally she can speak. "Y-you poor t-thing..." she cries suddenly flinging herself forward to hug me. I hug her back, grateful for the quick spark of comfort. Even from a stranger, it means the world to me right now.

I don't notice when the little boy who opened the front door comes into the room, but Josie does. She pulls away, not quite letting go of me, and looks at her son.

"Mommy?" he questions.

"Micheal, you're gonna have to give mommy some time alone right now. But if you wanna be my good boy go wake up daddy and tell him that I need him. Now," she says quietly. I am shocked at how even and calm her voice sounds, though I can see her hand shaking.

Micheal runs out of the room obediently, and Josie turns back towards me. "You stay as long as you like. We'll find that man okay? I promise."

All I can do is nod. I should say thank you, but I know if I speak I'll just start crying again. Soon, a tall man comes into the room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Josie's husband, obviously. He has a farmer's tan and I can see the muscles on his arms as he stretches slowly. "Whatddya want Josie?" he yawns. I watch as his eyes come into focus and he sees me - a strange teenage girl with tear stained cheeks sitting on his couch. "..huh?"

"Wayne, this is serious. Come into the kitchen with me." She turns to me. "Make yourself at home, please. Take whatever you want, don't worry about asking." With that she pulls Wayne away, their little boy following. A minute later though he comes back out, confused, and obviously sent away.

I pull my knees into my chest and curl up on the sofa, biting my tongue viciously until I'm positive that I'm not crying anymore. In some ways this has been the longest few days of my life, but in others it's gone by too fast. It's still unreal to me in a way. But do you ever really accept this kind of thing?

While I'm busy trying to distract myself, Wayne and Josie come back in. His eyes are wide and tense, staring at me with shock. I look away, unable to meet his gaze. I hear him whispering to his wife. "We need to call the police now! Where does she live, what's her name?"

I find my voice. "I live in Charleston. 454 King St.. My name is Camryn Taylor.. I'm 18 years old," I explain quietly.

Wayne is dialing the phone before I can think. I hear only three buttons: 9-1-1. For some reason I doubt he will be caught. I can't put my finger on it, it's just a feeling. And it scares the hell out of me. As he explains everything to the police, Josie comes and sits down with me again. She asks me if I need anything, but I just shake my head. Only seconds later, Wayne walks over to where I'm sitting, the phone still in his hand.

"They need to know how you got away," he said softly.

I shiver, should I lie about this? Yes. I need to. "I've always been fast," I begin, that was true." So when he was distracted I sprinted out of the room to the back door. I knew exactly where the spare key out was so it only took me a minute. I ran straight into the forest."

He nods and mutters a "thank you", then begins talking into the phone again. I sigh, trying with all my heart to stop the memory of how I really escaped. The unexplainable event that saved my life, but scarred it just the same.

"Please stop crying," he murmurs, stepping closer to me. I can't look away from his bright eyes, though I know I should be thinking of a way to escape.

"W-why should I? I'm gonna die," I hiss.

"Yes, but you could make it easier on me so I can sleep tonight." Still looking at him, I realize for the first time that he's beautiful. Contrasting with his green eyes, he has slightly tanned skin and medium blonde hair, cropped shortly - in the style that plenty of male models wear. This man is the kind of guy you'd see at the beach with his shirt off and say "damn." The popular one who's always got girlfriends and tons of friends. And the first time I ever get to talk to a guy like this, he's going to kill me.

"So you can sleep tonight?" I growl quietly. "You kill all my family, my best friend, you're going to kill me - all for some unknown reason that probably sucks, and you think I care about how you SLEEP!?"

"True," he sighs.

"Do whatever you want when I'm gone. But don't you DARE complain about your problems to me when I'm still alive, because they're the last *bleep*in' thing I want to hear right now."

"Oh shut up. You think you're the only one with problems? I'm gonna have the police after me because of this."

I laugh without humor. "That's your fault idiot, I'm not the one who murders six people. How old are you anyway? Like, twenty? Is that what you're going to do with your life? KILL? Sure, the world sucks sometimes. You move on, you deal with it. But what could we have possibly done to deserve this? What?"

"I can't..."

"WHAT?"

"I can't explain!" he roars at me, moving forward until his face is only an inch from mine. Standing so close to me, the smooth muscles are now easy to see even through his shirt. He's at least six inches taller than me too. I had no chance.

"Why not?" I whisper finally. He looks at me intently, never blinking once, just staring into my eyes. For a brief second, the anger and.. murder in his eyes fades, replaced with a frantic fear and loneliness. He's been hurt, something that just might be worse than death.

"What happened?" I ask, so softly that I'm not sure he hears me.

"You understand," he says simply.

And then he leans forward, swiftly closing the space between us and pressing his lips against mine. What the hell is he doing?! Kissing me?! Here? Now? Why? And yet I can't seem to pull away. It only lasts that brief second, no extra "moves" or anything else. I stare at him for a second, completely bewildered. I hate him right now, for tricking me into thinking he was more than a killer, for making me vulnerable like that.

"Leave now before I change my mind."

"Wha-"

"LEAVE!" he growls, jumping backwards quickly. "And you better get as far away from this damn place as you can, because don't think I won't come after you." And then I run away because there's nothing else I can do. Into the forest, crying the whole way.

I come back to reality with a jolt to find that no time has gone by. Wayne is still on the phone and Josie's still looking at me sympathetically. I despise the killer with a passion stronger than anything I've ever felt in my life. But before I get my revenge on him, I need to know what happened. I need to know why.

V. Found..?

The Police came and went, asking me several already-answered questions and telling me that everything will be okay. They said something about a foster home, which made me wince. But then I remembered to say that I still have three grandparents living, and several aunts and uncles. At least none of them were there that night. Josie says that I can stay as long as I want, but I don't want to be a burden. Once I contact my relatives I'll leave. And someday when I'm older and have plenty of money I'll come back here and repay her.

"Camryn, it's late," she tells me quietly. I look up from the ground and out the window, sure enough seeing darkness. "I'll be right back with some blankets and pillows."

I smile and nod appropriately, grateful for the comfort I'd been missing at night. Soon enough she comes with a big blue comforter and at least three pillows. "Thank you so much," I say again. Josie rolls her eyes and grins, then says goodnight and turns off the lights.

Alone again, I bury my head into the pillows, absorbing all of the warmth and comfort. With this thick blanket I know I'm too hot - even with the air conditioning on. But it provides a sense of security that I don't want to give up. I begin to wonder if I'll ever make it to college. I am accepted all the way across the country at Stanford in California. Cool and beautiful California. Maybe living there would keep me far enough from him for now. He doesn't know my name.. unless he stuck around after I left and looked through all our stuff. Then I was screwed. Damn. He said that he was still going to come after me, but how hard is he trying?

A cat that has been sitting in the corner stretches, then walks slowly over to me. It's all black from what I can see, with big yellow eyes and long whiskers. It continues towards me, then jumps up onto the couch, curling up at my feet. I never had a pet, my parents had always said they'd get one eventually. Now they won't, they never will. With one hand stretched out to pet the kitty, I fall asleep.

I wake up to the sound of the phone. The clock reads 6:45 - too early for summer. For a moment I wonder if I should answer, but just then Josie comes out, sprinting towards the counter. "Hello?" she answers. I am much too far away to hear the other side of the conversation, so I wait sitting up on the couch. My kitty friend has left, and is nowhere to be seen at the moment.

To my surprise Josie walks over with the phone held up to me. "For you," she explains.

How would anybody know I was here? Unless it's the police... oh of course it's them. Duh. "Hello?" I say.

"Hey Camryn. It's me, Kevin, from yesterday. A few of us drove over to your house to see if we could find anything."

"So?" I prompt.

He takes a deep breath. "It's burned down. Everything... I'm so sorry."

I bite my lip and nod into the phone. "O-okay.."

"But I have some good news too. We found him."

"You what?!" I exclaim.

"We found the killer. He was taking a back road out of Charleston towards the beach. Says his name is Brandon Harris. Listen, I'm gonna send a little helicopter over there. We want to get him locked up right away and it takes a while to drive from here," Kevin tells me.

"Wow that's... amazing and fast.. thanks..." I stutter.

He laughs, "That's our job. Now, you should be picked up in about an hour. 'Kay?"

"Okay," I answer, "Bye."

Josie looks at me from across the room curiously. "They found him."

"Oh my goodness!" she gasps happily, "That was fast! I expected him to be halfway out of the country by now, at least out of the city. Seems he's not very smart, good for us. Now, I'll go get you some spare clothes and some things that you might want." Before I can protest she's out of the room.

When she comes back she throws me some board shorts and a light blue tank top - surprisingly just my size. "I have a daughter who's only a year older than you. She didn't take all her clothes when she left. Unfortunately it wasn't to college, it was to get married to her boyfriend. He's a sweetie, but she's so young."

"Yeah..." I say quietly when I'm dressed. Along with the clothes, Josie has also brought a small backpack. She motions to open it up, and I find that inside are a few snacks, a water bottle, another change of clothes, and $100. "You shouldn't have!" I exclaim.

"Oh but I did," she laughs. "You deserve it after enduring this sweetie." She hands me one last piece of paper. "This is my phone number, call me if you ever need anything again, 'kay?"

"Okay." She hugs me quickly, then we both go outside to wait for the helicopter.

Either it isn't him, or he escapes. OR OR OR the police officer is the killer.

I'll be waiting for an update, and nothing wrong your post that I can see.

Lol at the killing police officer. But ya know, it could be true.

I'll write more in a bit.

Thanks, I'm really glad you like it!

VI. Gone

The helicopter ride was... terrifying. I'm not scared of heights, but when you're up over a hundred feet in the air, it's so loud that you can't hear yourself think, and there's a whirling blade that could take your head off above you, it's kind of nerve-wracking. So you could say that I was very happy to land.

Now, Kevin the Policeman and I are walking driving slowly in his car back to my old house. I have to focus on breathing in order not to hyperventilate. He's caught, he's caught I keep telling myself. But I don't feel safe, even with an armed policeman sitting next to me. We turn on King Street down to my house.

I feel my jaw drop. All that's left of my once beautiful and elegant house is charred and burnt wood, collapsed in a big ugly pile between our two neighbors. It seems unreal that it's all gone. All of my childhood pictures, my clothes, our furniture, my.. family.. Kevin looks sadly at me for awhile, then leads me out towards the site, which is bordered in yellow "DO NOT ENTER" tape.

"Hey Kevin!" a large man calls. "You okay Camryn?" he asks me when he's close enough.

I shrug, too shocked to mumble an "I guess so," or "Yeah." He nods in understanding, then takes Kevin and I under the caution tape and right up to the burnt rubble. "There was no DNA or anything left. Only the bodies, so it was just luck that we found him hiding out near the beach. We went of your description, blonde hair and green eyes. Plus he had a dagger with him, and a real guilty expression."

"So, you stay here and I'll go get him. Don't worry though kid, he's completely unarmed, and he's pretty defeated. Won't even talk to us or plead innocence. Weird." The man walks away mumbling to himself, leaving me alone with Kevin again. He puts a reassuring arm around me and I wonder if it's more for comfort or protection. Is this man still dangerous?

Minutes later the man comes back dragging along the killer, who has his head down guiltily. I suck in a quick breath of air, and don't let it out until he's standing right in front of me. But something's wrong. I shake my head slowly. "That's not him."

And it's not. First of all, his eyes are not green. Sure they look like it, but they're more a greenish grey. Dull and easy to forget. His hair is way too long and light to seem right. And also, he's about the same height as me, and I clearly remember the killer being much taller. I knew that he wouldn't get caught, I knew it. Strangely I feel satisfaction from being right.

"What?!" Kevin says quickly, turning me around to look at him.

"He had shorter hair, it was a darker blonde. His eyes were brighter and more green. And he was taller. This isn't him."

The other man is awestruck, shame radiating from his face. "But, that makes no sense. He had a dagger with him!"

The possibly innocent man (I think his name was Brandon) speaks for the first time. "A man told me to snoop around with it. Said something about needing to leave. He just told me to keep my mouth shut and my head down."

"Why'd you listen to him?" Kevin questions.

Brandon shrugs. "I suffer from depression, and was probably either gonna kill somebody or myself soon enough. I figured that jail would keep me safe. Even if it was for life."

"Well..." Kevin sighs.

The other policeman growls angrily. "So you haven't done anything son?" he asks Brandon.

"Not yet.." he mutters.

"We'll be keeping an eye on you Brandon, but you can go." With that he releases Brandon's handcuffs and lets him walk off. I'm still confused and scared. I don't quite understand why anyone would just take a dagger and try to get caught, but... I know that depression can do crazy things. And I'm scared because the real man is still out there, looking.

"I'm sorry Camryn," Kevin says quietly.

"Not your fault," I reply, sighing.

"So you said you have relatives?"

"Yeah. I have an Aunt and Uncle living in New York, and some grandparents in California. I'm registered for college at Stanford, but I don't have any money anymore, so.."

He interupts me, "Listen, it's your choice what you want to do. But here's what I suggest. I say that you should go live with your grandparents in California, and go ahead with Stanford. You deserve to learn after everything, and if you got accepted there than you shouldn't think about giving up college. All of the money from your," he hesitates sadly, "..parents is in the bank, all yours. We can loan you some too, don't worry. Money isn't the issue here, it's your safety. I'll be sure to put in a word with the police in the Stanford area to keep watch. You'll be fine, does that sound okay?"

"Yes, thank you. I'll call them right now," I say quickly.

"No no," he protests, "I'll take care of that. You can go sit in the car or look around here. Stay in my sight though."

I give him my grandparent's number, then say thank you again and walk of towards the remains of my house. I make my way through the wood and unidentifiable furniture, searching for something that I can recognize. Just when I've given up hope, I spot a glint of gold among the black and brown. Carefully, I pull it out from under a piece of metal and blow off the ash.

It's my necklace, the pure gold "C" that my mother had made for me specially for my 16th birthday. For a whole year I didn't take that necklace off for one minute. When I finally did, I always had kept it in the same place - in a little white case hidden behind my stuffed animals. It didn't burn along with everything else somehow. I take a deep breath and hold the necklace against my heart, letting myself remember my family for a moment.

When it's time to go, I am crying again.

---

VII. Moving On

Kevin says that before he books a flight to California, I need to buy some new clothes and books and supplies. Every girl's dream right? A shopping spree where you completely redo your wardrobe. Yeah, not so much. I don't think it's the same thing when all of your clothes were burned in the same fire that took the bodies of loved ones away. Besides, I liked my clothes. But what choice do I have now? Kevin also says that one of my friends (not Carlie...) was meeting me at the mall. Was it Michelle, Sara, Vanessa? One of my close friends, or the distant ones that don't know my secrets.

It turns out to be Jillian, and I will admit I'm relieved. Aside from Carlie and Michelle, she is one of my more trusted friends. She has bleach blonde hair in a cute pixie cut. She's only 5'1" but she's strong, smart, and fun. When I step out of the car, she catches me in a huge bear hug.

She doesn't say anything, and for that I'm grateful. Nobody really likes the annoying "are you okay?" and "I'm so sorry!" when they come from friends. Of course they mean it, but it feels wrong. We stand like that, me trying not to cry and Jillian hugging me for about three minutes. Then she pulls away and smiles sadly. "Shopping time?"

We go through the whole trip without saying a word about what has happened to me. Most of me is really happy about this, I don't want to talk about it yet. But there's always that small side that wants to let everything out. In total, we went to about ten stores, spending over $1000 on clothes. Jillian actually picked out most of it, telling me to try on this and that. She has a great fashion sense, while I get frustrated easily with these things.

We also stop at a few miscellaneous stores where I get my own blanket and pillow, a new laptop, an iPod, some basic school supplies (I'll buy books when I'm at Stanford) and other random things. By the end of the day I'm exhausted and my feet are throbbing in the flimsy flip-flops Josie had lent me.

"Woo hoo!" Jillian says once we step outside into the warm twilight air. "Think ya got enough stuff?"

Jillian, Kevin (who followed idly behind the whole time), and I each have about ten big bags in our hands as we waddle towards the car. While Kevin does his best to fit everything inside, Jillian takes me aside for a second. "I know it's hard Cam, but do you need anything?"

I sigh and smile. "No I'm... okay. Thank you for this though, it was fun. I'm really grateful that you weren't too...ya know."

"Intruding? Yeah, I was working on that." We both laugh quietly.

"Call me when you get to Cali, I've gotta visit you sometime. 'Kay?"

"Of course," I say, feeling a little bit happy.



The ride to the airport with Kevin is a blur. He doesn't speak to me, and I don't speak to him. I can't be sure if this is because he thinks I don't want to talk, or if there's just nothing to say. But the silence is strangely comforting.

We hesitate to go on to security, since I know that Kevin cannot go past this point. "So.." he says nervously. "I just got you a little present. I think it'll help ya get along." I smile, gratefully and accept the little package.

"Thanks so much, for everything," I say.

He grins, "No problem. And I'm sorry about what happened... and that we didn't catch him. I'll be sure to keep you updated though."

"How?"

"The present should explain it."

"Oh cool. So...um, goodbye..." I say slowly. He nods abruptly then reaches out and firmly shakes my hand. With one last smile and wave, I'm on my own with only my carry-on back pack (my huge suitcase had to be checked in), my faint hope, and my glimmering golden necklace to carry me forward. I obviously continue on through the long lines of security and the busy and smelly terminal rooms. The last time I went on a plane was when I was thirteen, with my two brothers... I was so mad at them then.

I wipe the stray tear off my cheek and walk faster. Here it is, gate 12B. I'm over an hour early, so only about ten people sit in the scattered chairs. I find one near the desk and curl up in it, my back-pack in my hands. I take out the book that Jillian let me keep as a gift: The Notebook. I never actually saw the movie that was made, I'm not sure why. But I had only heard good things about it, and since the book is always better - I began reading.

The loud terminal speaker interrupts me an hour later. "Will all passengers in rows 1-15 please board for flight 3159 to Oakland, California at this time." Row 12, that's me. I stuff the book back into my pack and hurry to the desk. The women takes my ticket then smiles and points down the long gate. Such a simple job... I wonder how much that smile hides. I follow her instructions and find my seat - by the window. Thank god. I take out The Notebook again and read.