Cry... little sister...

It has been twenty years. Two long decades since I have touched the soil of my family. The soil where I was born, fell in love, died by my lover's hands and was given this new existence.

The existence of an immortal. The undead.

Come... free your brothers...

I am so utterly sick of the wind, calling for me every night, the prayers of the fallen family I left behind. There is nothing to return to now. A single mortal family wiped them all out. I hear their name on the same winds… Emerson… and it heats my blood, twists my stomach to a giant knot. Exacting revenge always falls to the last member alive.

It would different, had any of them survived. I would have reason to go back, to see the remainders of the family I once was deeply tied to. But none survived. Marco, Paul, Dwayne; Dead and gone. Max, now ash scattered to the four winds.

Even my beloved. David. Dead.

I shut my eyes, willing the wind to stop blowing and the cries of their restless souls to cease permanently. Who I am to go back and change the past? Especially after so long. I was not even there for the final battle. Not a part of what the family had become.

I rise and wander down Oxford Street, which is a little quieter then normal for this time of the night. Up towards SoHo for the night's meal. The blood of trendy and hip London-ers awaits me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I finish my dinner in an alleyway, blinking at the strong drugs flowing through the club boy's veins. Rarely drugs affect me; the natural filtering system of a vampire's body is a gift. The only effect I would feel was a slight high for an hour or two. I dropped his body in a bin, the expensive club clothes slightly ripped and torn. He'd put up a slight fight.

Suddenly, I had an overwhelming craving for a cigarette. Oddly enough, I hadn't smoked in ten years. Lucky enough, there was a pack in the boy's trouser pocket. I lifted them, and lit one.

"These will surely kill you, don't you know." I spoke to his corpse, relishing the smoke in my dead lungs. "Oh wait, I beat them to it." I laughed at my own stupid joke, his slack face staring up at the dark sky.

Little Sister...

"Shut the fuck up, all ready!" I hissed at the wind's call. "I'm not going back. There's no reason. They're all dead!" My shout disturbed a few alley cats scrounging in a bin down the alley.

Free your brothers...

Running a hand roughly through my hair, forgetting it was soaked in blood; I sat down hard on the rough pavement. Blood dripped occasionally from the gory streaks in my hair onto my cheek. I'd forgotten the last time I had killed so savagely, almost like a true beast on the hunt. I was loosing my social skills and reverting. It might be a few more months before I ended up under the streets of London, living in sewers and hunting in Tube tunnels. I dreaded it. It was one of the worst things to happen to a vampire. Once you reached the reversion stage, you were pretty much marked for death. Most had given in to the signs and taken a last walk in the sun before the madness came.

I finished the cigarette, squishing it out with the toe of my high heel. Collecting the pack up, along with the Tube tokens that had spilled, I headed home. The Tube was far from crowded, and with my hood up, no one would see the gore on my face. I'd had it made extra deep on the occasion no sink was available to wash up in.

Orlando, my Doberman, pawed the gate open for me as I rounded the corner. He was truly the mothering figure in my life now, making sure I bothered to wake up and feed when I was hungry. He had been with me through 2 bodies now; this time coming back as a male Doberman. Before he had been a female German Shepard. He never did explain why he decided he should be another breed; of course, I didn't bother asking. Perhaps he decided that like the real Orlando, he could decide which sex he wanted each lifetime.

"Evening, Orlando." I spoke to him as though he were human. He was far smarter then most humans I encountered in London proper anyway. He nosed the gate closed as I passed, and bounded up the dark staircase past me, certainly hoping I'd brought dinner for him. Removing my hooded coat, I dropped the large rat on the floor. It squealed and took off to find a hiding place, as Orlando tore after it, eager for dinner.

I busied myself with cleaning the nights' meal off my face. Contrary to popular belief, vampires do have reflections. It's only within the first year or so of the Change that it fades in and out. I made a face, seeing the blood soak into my blonde hair and staining it an orange-red. Orlando was noisily eating.

"Orlando dear, you don't happen to remember where I might have stashed all the papers that came from American… oh about 1988… somewhere around there. The deeds and such?" Another face made as I took a wet cloth to my face and scrubbed off the human scent. Orlando whuffled.

"No, I'm not going back. It just popped into my head tonight, and I thought for nostalgia's sake I'd read them." Orlando whined and grunted at me, returning from the kitchen, licking bloodied chops. The rat had met its fate.

About as satisfied as I could be, I left the bathroom. Face cleaned, blonde hair slightly marred by strawberry-blonde streaks that wash out in the shower. Orlando had already moved to the ornate cabinet that stood as high as the ceiling in the corner of the flat, pawing at the second drawer. I dropped a pat on his head, with a scratch for good measure, and opened the drawer.

Some moments later, the large folding file box was removed. Thankfully it had been labeled in large block letters as "CALIFORNIA SHIT" and had a tie close, so I knew everything needed was in one place. Removing it and hefting it towards the couch, I settled down to paw through the past.

Orlando was kind enough to bring me a bottle of beer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night I woke up on the couch in a sea of papers. Orlando was snoring on the floor at my feet. Grumbling, I tossed the spiral notebook on the floor, its metal wire having left an impression in my cheek. The worst thing to use for a pillow.

Thankfully, before passing out, I had left a sticky note on the paper I had been searching for. "This is it, you dunce." I read aloud. "How nice of me." Lifting the thick cardstock cover, I read through the deed, which pronounced me sole heir to Max's video store, his house on the hill, and Hudson's bluff. I sniffed, blinking sleep from my eyes, and read while looking for the now nearly empty pack of cigarettes I had pinched from the club boy.

"Is there truly a point to going back and extracting revenge for something that happened twenty years ago, Orlando? Do vampires always have these clauses, where we have to go around destroying things and people because one of us was wronged? I never even met…" I flipped through the pages, laying my finger on the name, "um, Michael. Michael Emerson."

Orlando only gave me his best doggie-shrug and laid his head on my lap. Scratching behind his ears, I sighed and picked up the yellowed paper that had come with the large files.

"Michael did this to us. He destroyed our perfect world and the peace. Him alone." The pencil was almost completely faded but David's words beat into my brain. "Elizabeth, destroy him."

A resigned sigh later, I pointed towards the end table that held the phone. "Orlando, fetch me the phone book? I suppose I should make arrangements."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never understood why my parents decided California was a great place to rear children. I may look every bit the part of a California girl, with long blonde hair and blue eyes, but I was born in London, and it says that I am a citizen of the British Empire. I might be a naturalized American, but I'd keep my British loyalty any day. It's the blood in me.

As I was saying, my parents chose Santa Carla as the lovely town to raise three siblings and myself in. My mother was an artist, in her own mind, and my father had been honorably discharged from the Army. Since that explains why I, the eldest, was born in England, you can safely assume the rest of my parents' brood was born in the good ole' US of A.

There is nothing from my childhood or past that really has anything to do with who I am today. There was no abuse, no trauma, nothing that scarred my existence. It was a truly happy upbringing. The insanity came later.

The last part of summer when I was 14 brought a new store to the ever-popular Boardwalk, from which pretty much all fame for Santa Carla comes from. A video store, when videotapes were still new and fancy and only upper class families could afford such a luxury item. It was 1983. The proprietor was a man named Max. An outsider to the small world of Santa Carla.

He drove a fancy car, lived in a fancy house on one of the surrounding hills outside the town, and wore the latest fashions. He was what you might call a "hip" 30-something. Mom pressured me into trying for a part time job working the counter. My brothers egged on, hoping I could bring home free movies. We were one of the few families in town with a VHS player.

Giving in to make my family shut up, I stopped in the store on my way to the library one afternoon. The girl working the counter told me that only Max was able to hire, and he wasn't in till the evenings. I came home, told mom and I guess it was the disappointed faces of my brothers that convinced her that I was old enough to go down to the Boardwalk to inquire about the job. "Just so long as he knows you're 14 and can't work nights!" she called as I peddled off on my bike.

My first meeting with Max, he was so tall. Taller then my own father. He peered down at me through his black-framed glasses. He asked my work experience, which sadly only had me working two summers as an assistant helper at the library, cataloging and shelving books. It took him a few moments, partly thinking partly studying me before he agreed that for the rest of the summer I could help catalog the store and inventory every movie, and when school started I would come in after classes and return movies to their shelves.

And yes, I could have a couple of free rentals a week.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years passed while I worked in the video store. Over time I was entrusted with receiving the shipments of new videos for rent, and basically had the entire store catalog memorized. If a movie could not be found, I usually got a call asking whether we owned a copy or not. I never spent much time around Max, because he worked the evening shifts after my shifts were over.

Until my parents decided that when I turned 16, I could stay up till 11pm, which was an hour after the store closed on weeknights. Weekends were till midnight. Crime was never a real problem in Santa Carla, anyway, and since we lived relatively close to the Boardwalk...

Mom still made me promise to never accept rides or candy from strangers, and Dad showed me a few wrestling moves from his college days, incase someone grabbed me. I guess I never really feared strangers in my town. The Boardwalk was always crowded and security was tight; only a few fights broke out occasionally between high school kids.

Max, upon the news, was ever so pleased and reworked the schedule until I suddenly had more hours then I was used to working. I had no qualms with this agreement, for the salary I made was always spent on more books, my true passion. I was starting to run out of shelf space for them.

Max was always pleasant to me, in a fatherly-type fashion. I was the employee who had worked at his store the longest, and it came with rewards and responsibilities. When summer came, I was given my own set of keys, to open the store in the morning.

One night, though, upon my arrival, things seemed changed. I walked into the shop and was rushed by a large blur of white fur, snapping and barking. I froze like a deer in headlights.

"Thorn! No! She's family!" Max's voice held a stern tone, an unspoken command. The large white dog stopped, taking a seat on its haunches, whining. I was still playing deer in headlights, eyes focused solely on the beast. "Elizabeth, this is Thorn. I decided I needed a guard dog and picked him up from the shelter. He won't hurt you. I'm still training him."

Max gave me a fatherly smile and headed back to his office, leaving myself and Thorn to make peace between us. The dog seemed to have a switch in his back, turning his guard mode on and off. Instead of the snarling beast of white, which had come at me, he was now like my brothers' old hound dog, giving me a doggie smile and a look of happiness.

"Um, hello Thorn." I squeaked. He padded towards me, against dropping to sit right at my feet. His head came up under my hand, demanding an ear scratch. I complied, having no choice. Satisfied, Thorn trotted off to Max's office. I settled into my duties.

Max poked his head out of his office a while later, while I finished ringing up a rental. "Elizabeth, if you're free Saturday night, my stepson is coming to town to live with me, and I was wondering if you'd be a guide and show him around the city? I've told David about you, and he seems eager to meet you."

Those words would basically be the end of my happy, innocent life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"David, this is Elizabeth, the young lady I mentioned to you, the one who offered to show you around Santa Carla."

I stood smiling, hand out, dressed in what my mother though 'suitable' attire: a flowery print sundress that didn't "show too much!" my mother had explained cheerily. Anything was better to her then my usual attire of a tank top and some ripped jeans.

David cared less about my attire, even much less about the setup by his stepfather. He looked at my hand; a brow cocked in impatient yet subtle defiance and nodded his head. Then his gaze was off to sea again.

"Well. It's nice to meet you, David." I mustered what niceties I could, hand falling to my side. Max jabbed his elbow into David's arm, but his stepson didn't even flinch. I felt his gaze rise and move over me, the cold, cornflower blue color seeming to scrutinize each inch of the sundress. Maybe even what was under it?

"Sure. Pleasure." He almost hissed the words, his voice low and gravely. I did everything in my power not to shiver. David truly was a sight to behold: around 5'8", dressed entirely in black from head to tow, in sharp contrast with his hair. Which was bleach white, almost glowing softly under the cheap florescent lights Max had installed in the store.

Max shifted. Apparently he too was as uncomfortable with the situation as I was. David seemed oblivious to the fact, gaze finally breaking from me with a soft snort of exhalation, face turned to look at the ocean beyond the Boardwalk. I couldn't guess whether he was dissatisfied by stepfather, his life, or me in general.

Just then Maria's head poked out from the storeroom. "Max? Can you show me where to put these new releases?" A wave of relief crested over Max's face, and he smiled.

"A manager's job never ends! You two kids have some fun, and get dinner." He slipped a twenty from his wallet and held it out to David. David crumpled it into his gloved hand, pocketing it. "She's due home by midnight, be prompt, son."

"Yes, Dad." David sneered the term of endearment, getting a parental look from Max before he left us alone to help Maria. David glared after him; I had seemingly melted into the background.

"Um..." I tried to break the silence, really.

"Yes, Elizabeth. I know you're still there, and I know Max roped you into this. If you want, I'll split the cash with you and you can go hang out with your friends. Ditch me. Only I'll enjoy being ditched. No sense in really torturing both ourselves, is there." His eyes were cold, his face locked in a sneer. "You're not 'duty bound' to me."

"No, I'm not." I returned the hard look back to David, inside feeling like a wibble-wobble. I wasn't good at power games. "But you know, I respect my boss, and he asked me this favor."

"I'm not a favor."

"Well, then, whatever you are, I'm taking you out and showing you Santa Carla." I growled the last bit, put off by his teenage resentment towards anything that moved. Grabbing his arm, I hauled him out the door bodily.

It wasn't till later that I realized he hadn't resisted me at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And that is all there is to do in Santa Carla." The frozen yogurt actually tasted good, melting its creamy sweetness into my taste buds.

"In simpler terms, you really mean jack shit." David laughed; it was soft and low, with an easy-going tinge. We managed to share a smile.

"Pretty much." I nodded, taking up another spoonful. We sat on the railing at the edge of the Boardwalk, feet up on the top of a picnic table. His black trench coat rippled slightly in the cool breeze, ruffling the edge of my sundress.

David hopped down, dropping the empty cup and spoon on the tabletop. "How long have you lived here?"

"Since I was around 8."

"And it doesn't get cold here? And no snow?"

I eyed him, sucking off the last bits from my spoon. "No. In the upper part of the state, maybe, but not here. If it does, it's a fluke. But not "cold" cold. More like what we've got going on here tonight. Winds blowing in from the Pacific."

David nodded. "Where I came from... before here... it snowed tons during the winter. High as your waist." He motioned, his hand held in the air to show the height of the snowdrifts. "Higher then you've probably ever seen."

"It snowed like that when I lived in England." I dropped my empty cup into his, tossing everything into the trash bin.

"England?" I had sparked interest. "Max didn't mention you were from England. You don't have an accent either." The studious gaze hit me again.

I shrugged. "I was born there, technically am a citizen of the British Empire, but I'm an Army brat, really, and that's just how it happened. We moved to the states when I was 4 or so, and settled here not long after." I smiled ruefully. "Hence, the Valley Girl accent."

"No, you don't sound vapid and air headed."

"Thank you."

David nodded. "I was in Minnesota, that's where I moved from. Max made me. I was really doing perfectly fine, but he insisted."

"So you liked it there?"

David snorted in disgust. "No."

"Then why didn't you want to move?"

"Because everything I've heard about California was bad. Drugs. Crime. Murders. Cops. People. Smog. Traffic. You name it. And so far everything's been true. Even this town is stupid. There's nothing to do. The only good thing that's in this state for miles around is you, so far."

This is when I blushed. I couldn't help it. Maybe mother was right, and the dress made me prettier then I seemed. David was smiling, but my eyes were cast down, staring at my sandals.

"It's nearly 11:45. I better escort you home." I couldn't tell if he felt rebuffed or embarrassed that I hadn't responded. He only jammed his gloved hands into the pockets of his coat and started moving down the planked walk. I caught up and we walked the fifteen minutes to my house in silence.

We reached the front steps still in silence; I could see the shadowy figures of my younger brothers peeking out behind the curtains in the living room illuminated by the table lamps. I reached to open the door, and escape the mess I had made, when David grabbed my hand.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry if I like, offended you? I meant that as a compliment, really." He pulled me off to the side of the door, away from prying eyes. I finally swallowed enough courage and looked up at him.

"Thank you. It was lovely of you to say such a nice thing." I could barely get the words out, and even then they came in a soft whisper. I thought no one but me could have heard them, but David smiled, taking my hand in his soft gloves, and kissing the back.

"You're welcome. Could I ask you to be entertainment again tomorrow night, maybe? More over-priced frozen yogurt? My treat of course." His voice was low and hard in my ears, reaching places I hadn't even realized existed in my self. He kissed the joint of my thumb, and then turned over my hand, kissing the exposed skin of my inner wrist ever so lightly. But that was enough to send shocking jolts into the warm hidden places of my being.

"Y.yes." I stammered softly. David's face tilted up towards mine, the moonlight hitting his eyes and making them almost reflect like a cat's. I don't know what the look on my face was, but apparently David enjoyed it. His hands slid up, palms cupping the ends of my jaw, thumbs curling in front of my ears. A funny sound issued from my lips, almost a cry of fear and pleasure mixed. The next he was kissing me, so slightly that it felt like a small breeze dancing of the skin of my lips. And then I was kissing back, hungrily and terribly.

That was my first taste of blood lust. David fed every inch of it, fighting for his share of the hunger, the kisses. If the porch light hadn't switched on, blinding us both, I'm sure we would have coupled right in the flowerbeds father kept his prize roses in. I backed off instantly, immediately trying to straighten any messed gloss on my lips. David kept his back to the door, as my father swung it open.

"Ah, right on time. Max said you'd be prompt." My father kept a stern tone in his voice, but the words were jolly. David carefully wiped away any evidence of our kissing with a gloved finger, staring at me in agony, before turning towards my father. "You must be David?"

"Yes, sir. David." He took my father's extended hand in greeting. I hung back, trying to catch any semblance of normal breathing, and wondering why David wasn't breathing as hard. He'd been in on it as much as I only seconds before and he wasn't even fazed. "Thank you for allowing your daughter to give me a tour of your fair city. It was an enjoyable evening."

"Good to hear it. I'm sure we'll be seeing you in town, at the store?"

"You can be certain of it, sir."

My father smiled graciously. "Elizabeth, you do have class in the morning. Best wish your friend David a pleasant evening and head on to bed." Invoking parental control, I spoke quickly, thanking David for a nice time and shot myself into the house before I could falter. As rude as it was, I couldn't even look back until I had locked myself in my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Escape from the eyes of my father and David was easy, but finding sleep proved difficult. Even as I readied for bed I could not catch my breath. My blood hummed in my ears, rushing through my veins, forcing my heart to beat like a jackhammer to keep up the pace. Times like these I was grateful to be the eldest and honored with a room of my own.

The house was quiet, my parents and siblings safely asleep in their rooms; even the world was quiet. I was holed up soundly in my small closet of a room, barricaded in by the massive bookcases my father had made to house my growing library. Even though it had been cool out, I stripped down to an over-sized t-shirt and opened the curtain, letting the shimmer of moon in. I felt on fire, feverish, and couldn't stop trembling.

Introduction to lust, desire and arousal is never an easy path.

I kicked down all the heavy sheets and blankets my mother had given me for the cool spring nights and huddled under a thin blanket, my feet poking out. I must have tossed and turned for hours, before finally giving into the uselessness of it all.

Kicking the blanket down, I lay staring up at the glow in the dark stars painted on my ceiling. I couldn't remember asking my mother to paint them there, but they were as steadfast in my memory. Gazing at them, I let my mind drift into the dark place I had tampered the feelings David had invoked in me. Timidly at first, unwilling to be run over again and caught off-guard. I revisited the feeling of his hands on my face, his lips on mine. The heat began to build again, slowly but steadily as my breathing became harder.

My gaze went slack, my eyelids sinking shut as my imagination indulged me in fantasy. In my mind's eye the kissing strayed further, deeper. His hands were ungloved, moved from my face to my sides, hips, and stomach. Not only could I see what David was doing to me, I could feel it outside my imagination. Gulping back a moan, I cracked an eye to see if he was really there, in bed with me.

I was totally alone in my room.

Plunged back deeply into my sudden fantasy, I could feel the heat, weight, and presence of him over, above, and next to me. For someone who had little experience more then a sloppy kiss and a quick grope, my imagination filled in every gap. My imagination had David stripping me of my sundress, pushing me into the course grass of our front lawn; in reality I stripped myself of my t-shirt and lay burning hot on top of the mattress, desire and impatience expressed through inhuman vocalizations.

I felt solidly frozen, yet every inch alive as his bare hands brushed away errant strands of hair from my eyes, gliding down my cheek as I turned my head to bite and kiss his soft palms. I felt and heard his pleasure in the form of a rumbling groan, his hand moving lower, finally cupping an aching breast in his palm. Nails I had never noticed bit into my flesh with a kiss of pain, the velvet pad of his thumb stroking a pained nipple.

My eyes opened both in reality and fantasy, and he was there, stripped of his black coat and shirt, half kneeling by my side in his faded back jeans and boots. The paleness of his skin seemed to vibrate with a diffused luminescence, hurting my oversensitive eyes. The only movement between us was his thumb circling my screaming nipple.

"I can't do this. Not here. Not to you now. I don't care what he says." His words seemed to be more in my thoughts and mind then ringing in my ears. I was unable able to answer at all, locked in some cage of raging lust and hormones. "No. Not like this."

David was pained. It coursed in from the touch of his palm directly into my heart. Amid the arching and moans I couldn't control, I found his eyes and locked his gaze. The cornflower blue had turned warm, supple, and no longer icy. They longed yet held back. I couldn't ask or answer, but he could feel and read me.

"I want you too, but I won't subject you to this. You deserve much better then this, and I promise you'll get it. If you wish it so. And only from me." David smiled, hearing my mental screams of yes, my very spirit trying to mingle into his. "Then you must be my bad girl. I know you're a good girl. But this will be worth the trouble."

His hand left my aching breast, coming to rest on the small rise of belly below my navel, rubbing back and forth in an attempt to ease the aching pain inches beyond. His other hand danced a finger over my lips teasingly. "Skip school and come to Max's house as soon as you're clear of being seen. Thorn will let you in. I'll be waiting in the first room on the right of the hallway."

Nodding, focusing on his slow and steady rub of my abs I mentally tried to shove his hand farther down, to satisfy the damned ache between my thighs. A weak sound issued from my lips and David only shook his head. "Not now. Tomorrow." His words were more like a smile caressing the heated primitive part of my brain then sounds. I moaned and choked, loosing a grip on this fantasy reality.

He rubbed hard on my abs, building the heat in my hips to a near boiling point. I screamed, wanting him to finish what he started, it was hurting so much. The pounding I felt between my legs matched the pounding of my heart, and it was nearly too much to bear.

"Shh, beloved let go. Ride it like a wave rolling to the beach." The kiss he bestowed was intense, culminated with the feel of his hand and I let go as instructed. The last touch given was a press into a point that I had only read about in books, secretively glanced over during solitary trips to the library. A single soft circular swipe with a fingertip, and the waves rolled hard into the beach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up cold. The bright blue light that comes in the morning before the sun rises stung my eyelids, rousing me from a dreamless place. Every inch of me ached, every muscle strained. Whispers of images crossed my mind, but I didn't believe what had happened till realized that I was curled on my side, hand buried between my legs, and completely naked.

Sitting up, everything rushed back in a gale force. My head swam. There was no way I would willingly give myself sexual satisfaction! It was against the Church, and my parents wouldn't ever accept it.

"Oh God, please." I mumbled nervously, scanning the bed to see if David had actually been beside me. All I could find was my covers kicked and slumped off the end of the bed, my shirt crumpled in a ball on the floor and my hand… sticky. As sticky as my inner thighs.

"No no no!" I cried, suddenly afraid I was instantly going to be found out and condemned to Hell. Grabbing an old robe from the hook on the door, I dashed into the bathroom across the hall as the first finger tips of the sun rose over the hills.

The water scalding hot, I scrubbed every inch of myself, hoping to wash away any telltale sign of my sin. This was worse then stealing or lying. My parents would kill me. Sex or anything of that nature was only for the marriage bed. I sobbed silently, nearly scraping the skin of my thighs raw with the sponge. Hoping all evidence had been washed down the drain, I curled up and let myself cry until I heard my mother fixing breakfast downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I tried to be my normal self, but even I noted I was being extremely jumpy every time someone talked to me. I let myself lap into silence until breakfast was over, and then flew up the stairs in retreat.

My thighs were raw, making walking hard. The only way I figured I could make it through school was to douse them in lotion every minute. Thankfully today wasn't a physical education class day. The thought of wearing shorts made the pain fresh.

"Elizabeth..." I dropped the bottle of lotion, twisting in every direction. Breathing again, the message David had given me returned to my mind. Max's house. Now. First room on the right. A sudden mental map of Max's house came into my mind. David.

Whatever had happened, it had to be amended or stopped. My stomach twisted with the thought of such beautiful pleasure sending me to Hell for eternity. Only David knew what had happened, and it was going to stay that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dressed and my backpack shouldered, I hurried out the door. In my jeans pocket, my First Communion rosary was jammed. I planned to keep my word to David, then go to Confession and pay whatever price was deemed to save my soul. The weight of everything was crushing my conscience.

At least I found comfort that I walked every day to the high school, and thus was able to double back and head up the hillside towards Max's without fear of being seen. Once I was in the safety of the wooded hillside, I practically ran to the great big house on the cliff.

Just as David had said, Thorn awaited me on the small bridge to the outer deck of the house. A well-placed muzzle unlatched the first gate, and Thorn padded along side me all the way to the front door. Which was unlocked.

Whatever sensibilities I had ever possessed left me and I entered. The house was freezing, almost tomb-like. I had never actually been to Max's house. The front door opened on to a minimalist living room, in shades of white. Thorn whuffled and returned outside to the deck. I was alone, again.

Creeping down the hall, afraid of Max appearing at any second and being accused of trespassing, I held my breath until I found the hallway. Just beyond lay the door. And David. And the end of this mess. The door was open enough and made no sound as I lightly pushed it open. Slipping inside I closed it fast without looking around the room first.

"Beloved." The very word was like a hot poker shoved between my legs. My blood screamed and I dropped my backpack, a soft thud on the padded carpeting. David was sitting on the edge of twin bed, made up with mismatched sheets and an old quilt. The rest of the room was empty, except for a few unopened moving boxes.