Roswell Fanatics

<center>Ch. 14 Teaser</center>



Isabel sways the water with her fingertips checking the temperature of the water and using her other hand to turn off the tap. Heaving a defeated sigh, she strips herself of her damp clothes and steps into the bathtub, using the sides to slowly lower herself into the hot, relaxing water. Of course, after doing so, her palms feel as if a million needles have pricked them and a sharp jabbing pain shoots up her arm. She whimpers an ‘ouch’ and places her sore hands in the water, gently opening and closing them hoping the water will help alleviate some of her pain.

Grabbing the small, spherical loofa in the corner, she lathers it and begins to swish it softly over her shoulders and down her arms, the sweet aroma of cucumber melon tickling her nostrils. She leans back into the curved wall of the tub and pauses, staring at the loofa as if it’s a fascinating artifact. Her thoughts overtake her for the next couple moments, desperately trying to figure a way to organize and comprehend themselves. Nothing seems to be coming together though when she tries, but thinks better of it and decides that if she, maybe, says them aloud, they’ll be less befuddling to her.

“He knew,” she says, her voice sounding flat and fatigued at first. “He knew,” she states again with more vigor, a slight tremble to her voice. “He knew!” She screams, squeezing the loofa hard in her injured hands, the anger she’s compressed so deep within herself for so long breaking out.

“Why would he put this burden upon me? Not just me, but his son!” The tears flow down her cheeks like rivers. “I mean, if he knew, why couldn’t he have told me? We’re the ones suffering through this, not him. This baby will not even get a chance to live a remotely normal life because he’s already destined,” she states vehemently, as if she has a bad taste in her mouth, “to be something and I don’t even know what because that stupid ‘reaper’ from my dreams won’t tell me!”

“I just don’t understand how --- Ah!” She howls at the sudden jolt from her abdomen, placing her left hand a bit below her belly button, the continuing pain not subsiding. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

She’s trembling beyond belief now, but not from anger, but from fear. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, repeating three more times before letting out another painful groan. ‘Oh God, I’m scared! Please don’t let anything be wrong with him . . . ’

“Ow! Oh God . . . !” She grabs the edge of the tub with her right for stability and her eyes screw up from the pain blurring her vision. She sees a foggy figure before her . . .



So, did that tease y'all enough? Keep a look out for a new chapter in the next few days . . . You'll be in for some surprises this next chapter.

~Kay

Author's Note: I'll tell you all now, I'm a little nervous about this part . . . Anyway, hope you all enjoy! (Sorry to be so vague . . . )



<center>Chapter Fourteen</center>



“. . . Oh, by the way, who’re you sending the letter to?” Jim’s curiosity peaked as he observed the blank envelope in Diane’s hand.

Diane glances at Phillip and back to Jim, not knowing what exactly to say and does some quick thinking, recovering quickly from her lack of speech. “Oh, no one in particular, just an old friend of ours,” and gives an innocent smile.

Jim still looked quizzical and remained quiet about the fact that the envelope had a stamp, but no address scribbled on it and responded. “Well, I guess you both want to be best on your way then. Maybe we can meet at the Crashdown tomorrow and chat over a cup of joe.” He paused a moment, tipped his hat from where he stood and said, “Good day to you,” and continued on down the street.

As Jim rounded the corner, a despairing question crossed his mind that he had asked himself numerous times over the last three years but had hoped he wouldn’t have to again. ‘What are they hiding?’

Diane watched as Deputy Valenti disappeared around the corner and gave a worried glance to Phillip. Phillip looked just as worried and as they loaded themselves into their car, and replied, “It’s no wonder that he was one of the first to discover our children’s secret, doesn’t miss a single detail, does he?”



Isabel sways the water with her fingertips checking the temperature of the water and using her other hand to turn off the tap. Heaving a defeated sigh, she strips herself of her damp clothes and steps into the bathtub, using the sides to slowly lower herself into the hot, relaxing water. Of course, after doing so, her palms feel as if a million needles have pricked them and a sharp jabbing pain shoots up her arm. She whimpers an ‘ouch’ and places her sore hands in the water, gently opening and closing them hoping the water will help alleviate some of her pain.

Grabbing the small, spherical loofa in the corner, she lathers it and begins to swish it softly over her shoulders and down her arms, the sweet aroma of cucumber melon tickling her nostrils. She leans back into the curved wall of the tub and pauses, staring at the loofa as if it’s a fascinating artifact. Her thoughts overtake her for the next couple moments, desperately trying to figure a way to organize and comprehend themselves. Nothing seems to be coming together though when she tries, but thinks better of it and decides that if she, maybe, says them aloud, they’ll be less befuddling to her.

“He knew,” she says, her voice sounding flat and fatigued at first. “He knew,” she states again with more vigor, a slight tremble to her voice. “HE knew!” She screams, squeezing the loofa hard in her injured hands, the anger she’s compressed so deep within herself for so long breaking out.

“Why would he put this burden upon me? Not just me, but his son!” The tears flow down her cheeks like rivers. “I mean, if he knew, why couldn’t he have told me? We’re the ones suffering through this, not him. This baby will not even get a chance to live a remotely normal life because he’s already destined,” she states vehemently, as if she has a bad taste in her mouth, “to be something and I don’t even know what because that stupid ‘reaper’ from my dreams won’t tell me!”

“I just don’t understand how --- AH!” She howls at the sudden jolt from her abdomen, placing her left hand a bit below her belly button, the continuing pain not subsiding. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

She’s trembling beyond belief now, but not from anger, but from fear. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, repeating three more times before letting out another painful groan. ‘Oh God, I’m scared! Please don’t let anything be wrong with him . . . ’

“OW! Oh God . . . !” She grabs the edge of the tub with her right for stability and her eyes screw up from the pain blurring her vision. She sees a foggy figure before her . . .



Gavin walks into the new Subway down the street from his apartment, grimacing at how many people are seated in the small place. ‘Well, what do you expect, Frost? Half-priced subs and free cookies on opening day will, of course, bring in a huge crowd.’

He strides toward the counter and orders a meatball sub with American cheese and a few add-ons and watches the guy, whose name is Steven (from what the name tag said), make it. After getting his order, free cookie, and thanking the employee, he looks around and marks that there aren’t very many seats available in the restaurant. Not wanting to go back to his apartment, he sees a young woman seated in the corner staring out the window and walks over.

Clearing his throat and startling her out of her daydream, he puts his hand up as if to say he means no harm and asks, “Mind if I sit here? Most everywhere else is full.” She nods. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes.

She turns away from the window and smiles, “It’s okay.” She watches as he takes a huge bite of his sub, bringing his hand to his mouth to wipe any thing that escaped and he smirks at her.

“You know,” he says putting down his sub, “you look familiar.” His smirk becomes an inquisitive smile.

“Really,” she questions, one of her perfectly curved eyebrows raising.

“Yeah,” he says still staring at her curiously. It then dawns on him why she looks familiar. “You’re Kim! One of the waitresses at The Kiwi Express!”

The excitement in his eyes at remembering makes her laugh, and the fact that he’s wrong only adds to it.

She laughs for a while and answers, “Well, I’m used to the mix-up, but I’m not she and I’m sure I don’t work at The Kiwi Express.” His eyes widen and face flushes, thoroughly embarrassed of confusing her with someone else. As he’s about to apologize, she puts her hand to stop him and chuckles, “But, I do know Kim and as I said, I’m used to the mix-up. The name’s Amilee.” She places her hand out to shake his and continues, “I’m Kim’s twin.”

He smiles a broad grin and shakes her hand, “Gavin. Gavin Frost.” He shakes his head, laughing at his mix-up. “I’m so sorry for the assumption, but the two of you look very much alike. Well, except for your hair I just realized.”

She smiles, “No, really, it’s okay! Anyway, so, you’re the infamous Gavin Frost? I’ve heard quite a bit about you from some of my friends.”

He throws his hands in the air and leans back into the booth, “Who doesn’t know of me!” He exasperates, pursing his lips. “Whatever you have heard . . . It’s not true!” He states, hands still raised as if he’s being arrested.

‘He’s funny,’ she thinks to herself. She rolls her eyes, “Slow down there, turbo. Whose said it’s anything bad?” She smirks as he puts his hands down.

He screws up his face in concentration, “Well, if you’ve heard anything bad? Just don’t believe it. Really, I’m not a bad guy. I’m just a guy with a reputation for being damn sexy and dating a bunch of floozies,” a wide-toothed grin spreading across his face like that of a Cheshire cat.

Amilee’s mouth drops, “Oh, like that doesn’t sound bad!” Her voice oozing with sarcasm.

He laughs at her reaction, “Anyway, if you’d let me finish,” he pauses, “that was until recently,” he says quietly.

Amilee decides to ignore his comment because it seemed to her like the subject brought him some kind of inner turmoil, so she asks, “Anyway,” she rolls her eyes, “I have a question for you.” She takes a sip of her Sierra Mist. “Okay, your name is Gavin, but . . . Why is your nickname ‘Gabe’?”

He almost chokes on his Pepsi, placing the cup down and swallowing, he replies, “That’s a funny story actually. My nickname stems from when I first arrived here in Augusta a little over a year ago . . .”



“Shh . . . I’m here. You need to breathe.”

“Alex?” Isabel cries questionably. “What’s happening? Am I going into premature la--- AH!” She squelches.

“Iz, do as I say. You need to breathe.” He guides her through a few deep breathing exercises, hating that she’s naked in front of him. Not that it wasn’t one of his male-dominated fantasies, but his gentlemen-like persona is definitely going to be giving him a hard time about this later. Right now though, it’s more important for him to help her through this than to be conflicting between what is morally right and wrong.

Alex comes out of his reverie and lets her take his hand as a bearing for her to hold and stays quiet, just listening to her inhale and exhale. He realizes he hasn’t answered her question yet, but it’s vital that she first calm down. He gives her a reassuring smile to encourage her to continue, doing his best not to show his hidden concern for her and the baby.

At first, he was a bit disoriented when he found himself here with her. He hasn’t been brought out of her subconscious for over half a year and to suddenly find himself before a naked Isabel caught him off guard, especially an Isabel with auburn hair and hazel eyes. Surprisingly, he was waiting for this to happen. Not in this exact situation, of course, but it’s been like a gigantic game of tug-o-war in her subconscious lately. Like he’s had one foot out the door, but waiting for a signal to leave.

“Ugh . . .” He hears her anguished cry. It pains him to see her like this and wishes there was some way he could take it all away. The only thing he can do though is coax and convince himself she’ll be all right . . . well, physically. The emotional weight of the experience may just haunt her memory for the rest of her life . . .

Quieting his thoughts, he stares back up at her and their eyes meet. He brings up his free hand and grazes it across her wet face, wiping away a ‘Nile’ of tears, their gaze never breaking. He feels her tremble as she inhales a shaky breath only to hear a sob exhale back out. Her head falls to rest against his shoulder and knows she’s still in much anguish because her hand is still clenching his own.

“What’s happe--- oh ---ning,” she whispers, no longer in sobbing hysterics. (Just in time too because Alex didn’t know if his sweater would be a very good tissue any longer.)

Alex adjusts her sitting position (not looking down whatsoever) so to be face to face with her and proceeds to let her crush his hand as if it’s a stress ball. Staring her in the eye, not letting his gaze falter, he carries on.

“To answer your question, no, you aren’t in premature labor. Feels like it doesn’t it?” She nods. "What’s happening is the baby is responding to your outburst, and obviously, is not taking it well. You should know by now, that this is not healthy and is really hurting the little tyke.” Alex frowns and watches Isabel shake her head as if hoping that this is some horrific nightmare and is waiting to wake up any moment.

As he stared into her hazel eyes, the tears in them making the yellow flecks look like gold pieces reflecting in a river, it made his heart wrench because he could see the next question written in them.

“How do I--- ugh ---stop the pain? What do I need to do to keep my--- ah ---self from hurting my son?”

Alex could tell it was a chore for her to ask him this. The tone of her voice made it sound like she was dying inside with each syllable she spoke and it pained him even more than seeing her so vulnerable. Her eyes . . . her appearance, or better yet, lack there of . . . the situation . . . the atmosphere . . . The tension in the room seemed to have gone up in degree in just the last minute and Alex felt like he was suffocating. If he felt like he was suffocating, it made him wonder what Isabel might be feeling . . . Just contemplating what turmoil she could be experiencing forced him to turn away from her critical gaze, that feeling of helplessness washing over him once again.

“Alex . . . please.” She pleaded with him as another wave of pain hit her like a tidal wave and she let out a tormented scream.

Hearing her scream made him realize what he needed to do to help her . . . he needed to take the pain away from her . . . and place it upon himself.

“Isabel, I only know of one way to get rid of your pain, but you must act on what I say, no matter what it is. Are you willing to do that?” He knew her answer even before she nodded. "You must channel your anger and give your pain to me.” His emotions were beginning to get the best of him but he couldn’t show them to her or else she’d be more terrified than she is now. He needed to be strong for her because if he wasn’t, who would be?

Her eyes widen at the prospect of placing all her torment on the figment that has helped her through everything, but what he was asking . . . It was something she didn’t think she could do. To channel her anger and place her turmoil upon was something she didn’t even know how to do, let alone wanted to do.

She vigorously shook her head and whispered fiercely, “I won’t! I did this to myself . . . I should be the one to suffer.” She gazed into his blue eyes, pleading with him to find another way but could see there was no other.

Alex brought his face close to hers and rested his forehead against hers, taking his numb hand out of her grasp and placing his hands on either side of her face, he whispered, “You have to.” A stray tear rolled down his face.

The realization hit her, this was the only way and he knew it. He was trembling because not only was he about to take a fall for her, but he was afraid for both her and her child’s safety. The look in his blue eyes told her that if she didn’t do this, she would lose her child . . . and she would have no one to blame but herself. There was one thing she didn’t understand though . . .

“Alex, you’re a figment of my imagination, wouldn’t I still --- ugh --- feel this after you’ve disappeared? How can you --- ah --- take my physical pain?”

“There’s no time for me to explain, but I promise I will to you one day, but the longer we wait, the more damage that is done to the fetus. I need you to follow my instructions and you can be rid of this infliction.”

Her bottom lip trembled as she held back another cry and grasped the tub for dear life and slowly, but surely, she nodded.

He took his hands away from her face and held them out for her to take. He watched as she lifted her hands and noticed the blood on the tub edge and he gave her a confused look. She showed him her palms and saw that they were cracked and splintered, like she had been lifting lumber or construction. Deciding not to waste any more time, he took her bleeding hands into his pale soft ones and squeezed them gently, how he had not noticed her hands before baffled him but he shrugged it off.

“Are you ready?” She gave a solemn nod. “Okay, first, I need you to think of only me.”

She actually smiled when he said this and replied quickly, “Done.”

“Okay, second, act as if you’re dreamwalking, but instead of focusing on someone else’s subconscious, focus on the anger within.”

She complies and closes her eyes, specifying every emotion in her body from happiness to sadness, guilt to grieve, and finds the hot burning core where her anger lies. She notes every emotion is depicted by a different color, but not just any colors, the colors range from her favorite to her least favorite. Like happiness is depicted by purple, sadness is represented by yellow, and her anger is a bright, flaming orange in the middle of all of them. She reaches with her mind and grabs the blazing orb, every other emotion falling from it’s made up shelf, now it’s only she and the spherical semblance of anger.

She hears a voice from outside her sensitive sanctuary and knows that it’s Alex, asking her if she’s ready for the next step, which she has a feeling she already knows.

Alex didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time, waiting patiently for her to come back so he can give the next direction, which he was dreading. He felt like one of those hypnotists with the stupid pocket watch putting someone in a trance. When her eyes came to life with an orange ember where the usually black pupil was, he knew she had channeled it.

He let out a raspy breath and gave her the instruction, “Now, I need you to think of me again and pass your anger and pain onto me.”

Her body began to quake at this request and a white light started to envelop her. Alex watched as the two orbs in her eyes sparked and two streams of orange embers simultaneously streaked from her shoulder, down her arms and had begun a path toward Alex.

The same white light soon encompassed Alex and the two streamlines slowed down when they started to come up his arms. Isabel involuntarily screamed as the anguish and anger was released from her and began to overtake Alex, the streamlines reaching his shoulders and fading as they met at his chest and a jolt, like thunder, hit him and he hit the wall on the other side.

It was quiet in the small bathroom and Alex stirred from the other side, rubbing the back of his head from the impact and the burning felt unbearable, as if his heart was about to explode inside his chest. He stared across the dank bathroom and noticed a hand on the edge of the tub and crawled to Isabel to see her somewhat submerged in the water. Not caring about morals any longer he dipped his hands in the water and took her head from under, sighing in relief that she was still breathing. He placed one of her arms around his neck and positioned his other arm beneath her kneecaps and took her out of the water.

Her body and hair dripped all over the floor, but he didn’t care and walked with her to the bedroom and laid her down. He went back to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and went back to her, dabbing her dry, but not touching any places he shouldn’t.

Placing the towel under her long wet hair and clothing her in a long nightshirt he found next to the bed, he places a hand on her abdomen and can feel movement, like the baby’s getting cozy in a warm bed. He smiles a wide grin and kiss’ Isabel’s forehead before he fades into nothing.

On the way down
I saw you
And you saved me from myself
And I won’t forget the way you loved me

On the way down
Almost fell right through
But I held onto you

I was so afraid of going under
But now
The weight of the world feels like nothing



Max shuffles the food on his plate, not really paying attention to the conversations going on around, letting his mind wander from one subject to another.

“Max, is something wrong?” Liz asks him, placing her hand on top of his, her wedding ring reflecting from the light in the room.

He stops shuffling his food and glances at his wife and then all around the table. He places his fork down on his plate and sighs, “We need to leave. We’ve stayed here too long,” he states solemnly.

“But we just got here!” Maria exasperates. “We’ve only been here a few months!”

“I know that, but . . .”

“But what Max?” Liz questions.

He stands up and begins pacing, a habit he learned from his father. “I just don’t feel safe here anymore and I just think we need to go a bit farther Northeast. Michael and I were talking about this last night.” Everyone glances at Michael, and Max continues. “Before you say anything, I know that we haven’t seen any sharpshooters or the FBI, but the farther we are from Roswell, the better. We can still keep in contact with our parents and such, but . . . that’s just how I feel.” He stops to see if Michael or someone will vouch for him.

Everyone’s looking to Michael and he looks up from his plate, he swallows his mouth full of food and nonchalantly says, “Don’t look at me. I’m with Maxwell on this one.” He continues eating.

Kyle speaks up from where he sits quietly, “Unfortunately, I agree with Señor Presidente and the neanderthal here,” he states watching Michael eat then turns toward Max, “but where are we going to go?”

Liz, Maria, Kyle, and Michael gaze up at Max and he takes something out of his back pocket, something that looks like a road map and a brochure.

“Well, yesterday when I went to the Circle K down the street, I stopped in the store next door and bought these.” He hands them to Liz and she looks and passes it down the line. “I was thinking that maybe we could head to Maine.”




(Excerpt from “On the Way Down” by Ryan Cabrera)

Oh my God, it's only been a month! Well, here's an update before school starts . . . Tuesday. *shudder* It's short and definitely is a tad bit more light-hearted than the last chapter. No angst factor in this one folks. *GASP*

I just needed a break from it. That last chapter took a lot out of me! I guess you could say this is a filler chapter. The next few chapters will very much be the answers to some of your recent questions, so, be ready for a bumpy ride.

Anyway, I know you all are probably sick of my rambling by now, so, I present to you . . .



<center>Chapter Fifteen A</center>



The apartment sparkled as Isabel opened up the blinds in the small living room. She smiled at her work and was happy to finally rid of her messy apartment to be replaced with a spotlessly clean one.

She sighed tiredly and wiped the sweat above her brow and sat down in the cushy armchair next to the couch. It had been a few days since the ‘bathroom incident’ as she deemed it, and she was still no closer to figuring out how her subconscious version of Alex had saved her. It was an enigma to her and the more she attempted to decipher it, the more confused she became.

Isabel tried to call out to Alex, but he wasn’t responding. She assumed he was recuperating from the impact of the experience and would not come to call for another few days. She wouldn’t be surprised if her assumption was correct though. Since the morning she woke after it happened, a terrible migraine had been plaguing her day and night.

Though her migraines are awful, she’s been having a very smooth ride over the last few days. There was no longer any pain in her abdomen and all she felt now was the baby letting her know of his presence. Before, it was a very odd occasion when she would not have stress, but now the only stress she had was finding a job, eating healthy, and keeping her apartment clean. It may seem like a lot, but to her it was nothing. Earlier today she even received a call from the manager at Dillard’s confirming an interview for later in the week.

Yep, everything was running smoothly and she was finally comfortable here in Maine. She felt like she belonged and just that alone made her heart swell with happiness. She had gone out yesterday and when she smiled at people, they had actually smiled back. She called Bennie about it last night and he had said after what happened at The Kiwi Express, people sympathized with what had happened and felt horrible for the way they had treated her before.

The thing that mattered though, was that she didn’t feel like an outcast any longer in the community. There were still those few that would still give her dirty looks, but at least it wasn’t the whole population. She was happy, her baby was okay, and everything was finally falling into place.



Gavin yawned widely as he rolled over in bed, squinting at the small, black clock on his bedside table, the colors of the room blurring together. He picked the clock up and propped himself up on his elbows, the red glaring numbers mocking him—laughing at him, telling him it’s time to get up.

“11:27 A.M.?” He sat up, ran his hand down his face and scratched the back of his head. He sighed, “Great. I’ve wasted the entire morning.”

He put the clock back on his nightstand and wandered over to the bathroom to take a shower, almost running into the door because of his sleep-induced stupor. He randomly turned the faucets, took off his plaid boxers, and stepped into the hot streams of water.

As he lathered his lean-muscled body with a bar of Dial soap, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about his encounters at Subway from the night before. Yes, he had been flirting with another girl, but that was his nature! Besides, it’s not like he and Anna are together . . . technically.

What really got him though? Why did he suddenly feel guilty for pursuing another girl?

Thinking aloud, “Anna and I aren’t together, but I feel like I need to go to her and apologize for something that is in my nature.” His face screwed up in concentration, but fell and he sighed once again. “What has she done to me?” He inquired.

Continuing to lather his body and contemplate how a girl he barely knows affected him so much, another thought came to mind.

“I’ve never felt like I’ve had to apologize for something so trivial as flirting. I mean—come on! I’ve dated three girls at once without having any problems before and now here I am, not, technically dating anyone, but feeling like a slime ball for just talking with another beautiful girl.”

He leaned against the shower doors, closed his eyes, and whispered, “Anna . . . She’s so beautiful, but so closed off. I only went on one date with her, but I want to feel her next to me again, run my hands through her hair . . . have her body close to mine.”

For a couple moments, all he did was think about her, everything from her hair to her scent. He missed her terribly and his heart ached for her to be near him. Then the realization hits him . . .

“I’m falling for her.”

He opened his eyes and his brow furrowed, looking down, his immediate thought is, ‘Cold water.’



Gavin walked briskly with Bennie down the aisle of the store alongside the CDs and DVDs, speaking with him about his meeting last night with Amilee and his thoughts in the shower about Anna.

“I’m so confused about everything lately that I feel like my head’s going to explode. I don’t know what to do with Anna, and I feel guilty about flirting with Amilee, what’s a guy supposed to do!” He exasperates, watching Bennie shakes his head at him with an odd smile crossing his face. “What?”

They stop in the middle of the aisle and move into the side portion with computers and laptops.

Bennie grabs Gavin by the shoulders and looks him squarely in the face. “One, you never tell a woman about your pursuing of another, especially if it was accidental, or in your case, just in your nature. Two, this is me you’re talking to! You know, Anna’s best friend?”

Gavin gives him a dirty look, “I know that!”

“Well?” Bennie asks.

It dawns on Gavin what he’s talking about. “Dah!” He hits himself in the head with the heel of his hand. “I can get advice about Anna from you.” He gives Bennie a mischievous grin, “So, what have ya got?”

Bennie put his arms down, crossed them over his chest and pursed his lips, “Well, I can’t divulge her secrets to you or anything, but I can give you hints as to what she has gone through. Also, before the whole fiasco with the baby, you made her very happy and I can tell she still secretly wants you. Who doesn’t see it?” He states rhetorically continuing to walk.

Gavin ran up to him and turned him around, “Well?” He saw the look in Bennie’s eyes, “What’s the catch?”

“The catch is, I can’t tell you anything.”

Gavin stopped and a confused gaze crossed his face, “Wait? I don’t understand!”

Bennie turned around and a stern look crossed his features, “Look, I would love to divulge hints to you, but I just realized I can’t.” He noted the look on Gavin’s face, “Why? Because if Anna even caught the slightest that I did, she will murder me. You have not had to face her wrath!”

He paused, “Besides, you’re too smart. Those hints would not be clues. You would eventually decipher them and discover the secrets she has told me and then I would lose a very good friend. I’m sorry.” Bennie walked and went through a door in the back leaving a baffled Gavin.

Gavin scratched the back of his head and walked opposite of where Bennie went and said, “Damn, he’s a loyal friend. Looks like I’m not the only one whipped by Anna’s charm.”



Isabel catches her breath from the light jog she took around the block and stops at the front of her apartment building where the mail is kept and checks her box.

“Hmm . . . what do we have for today?” She light-heartedly questions and takes out a stack of letters. “Let’s see: junk, junk, not interested,” she pauses and looks at the address of the next one, “Ah, last pay check. Thank God.” Placing it behind the rest of the letters, she notes that there is one left. From the look of the envelope though, she knows automatically it’s a letter from her parents.

Smiling, she continues on her way to her apartment.

Once inside, she slips off her sneakers and heads to her bedroom where she sits Indian-style on her comfy mattresses and uses her powers to carefully tear open the envelope. Scanning the letter carefully, she bites her lip and stares off for a moment, thinking about the questions her mother and, especially, her father want answer to.

She sighs, “There’s no way I can put this in writing, but I don’t want to leave them in the dark either. How am I going to do this?”

She knew the answer almost instantly but didn’t know if she should do it or not. ‘It could be safe, but then again . . . theirs could be tapped. Should I take the risk?’ She knew it would not only be a risk to herself but her parents also, but there was no other way. Except dreamwalking, but the last time she used it on one of her parents it gave them nightmares for a week. She didn’t want the same thing to happen. ‘But I didn’t have control of it then. I just knew it existed . . .’

She shook her head vigorously, “Dreamwalking’s out of the question. My parents just found out about us being aliens. They may have adjusted to us being aliens but still have yet to adjust to the fact that we have powers.” Isabel stopped her rant and noted that she still referred to everything that was alien-related as ‘we.’ “Some things will never change,” she stated mournfully and got up from where she sat.

Sitting down on the small, dilapidated couch, she grabbed the phone from its cradle and dialed, still staring intently at her parents’ letter. She was determined to give them the answers they wanted—needed to have.

Sorry for the prolonged lack of update, but there's been a lot going on lately. Firstly, I thank all of you for sticking with this story and being patient with me and my updating like every 4 months, LOL, but most of all for your support. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! Second, I'd like to say that I should have an update for this, hopefully, by the end of the month or my October break, which is begins the second Monday of that month. Thirdly, with it being my senior year, I've just finally figured out what I'm going to do with myself in the future and as of now I'm applying for scholarships and filling out applications. Luckily, I'm automatically guaranteed a spot at SCC. So, that's out of the way.

Now, onto the other reason I'm not currently updating. Okay, so, a few of you know that I have a rare allergy that pertains to Food Anaphylaxis, unfortunately, I didn't think it would screw my life up so much, but it has. Because of lack of vitamin C and Fiber in my diet currently, plus being back in school where there's no way of getting away from the germ circulation, my immune system isn't as strong (not like it was before, but it just got worse). So, before I can even bother to update, I need to get my health back up to par. (It doesn't help either that I am not the most healthy eater either...)

If you'd like to know a bit more about my allergy, e-mail me.

I'm going to bed now, I'm not feeling so hot. I'll keep y'all updated.


~Kay