AUTHOR'S NOTE...
Hello all. I’ve been reading some of the Sims stories on here and felt inspired to write my own, so I did. I hope some of you, at least, enjoy it!
Just a few notes about the content before the story gets underway…

This story will contain some language and some violence. However the violence is neither frequent nor very graphic, and the language doesn’t get overly fruity. I was trying to keep the dialogue realistic, but without throwing in unnecessary swearwords for no reason at all.

Vampires – there are vampires in this story, and hence in the pictures as well. There's a glitch in my game where vampires don’t display correctly: while the skin on their body and scalp turns that vampirish blue-grey, and their eyes turn red, the skintone on their face stays normal. I’ve tried several ways to fix this but finally gave up. So yes, they are there in the pictures…they’re just in disguise.

Other than all that, I hope you enjoy the tale!

what a great story ! :] I like the the vibe of the town you got going on and am anxious to see where this story goes.

My brother thinks I need a hobby.
He told me this one day, when I was busy organising my books and CDs alphabetically. For some reason, he ambled into my room and heard me muttering to myself about whether to organise my books by title or author.
With a deep, heartfelt sigh, he leaned on my doorframe and said to me, "Ellie? You seriously need a hobby."



I looked up. "Have you read Ice Station?" I asked him, holding up a book. "It's fantastic."
He glanced at the mass of books lying spread out on my bed, and continued on as though I hadn't spoken. "I mean, I know there isn't much to do in this place," he admitted. "But you could at least find…something."
"What about Temple?" I said.
"What about Temple," he replied, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean, have you read it?" I flipped though the first few pages. "I didn't think it was as good as the others, though."
He just sighed and walked out, murmuring something like "I don't know why I bother."
However, I did realise that I need a hobby. Something constructive to do with my time, apart from schoolwork and reading and writing and trying to play my Dad's piano and thinking of creative ways to file my Mum's research papers.
So I decided to start this journal. It's not like I don't already keep a journal, because I do, but that's for my eyes only. This one can be like a novel. Only it's a true account of everything that happens in Solitaria.
And I've decided – occasionally – to write it like a typical first-person narrative, as opposed to a standard 'Dear Diary' style of writing.
"Wow!", you say.
I know. I'm thrilled to bits as well.



When I told Amelia about it, her eyes lit up. "Cool!" she exclaimed. "Can I be, like, the photographer? I'll take pictures to go with the story. And that can form part of my major work for my photography course."
So she's going to take some pictures, which is good, and she's a pretty good photographer, too.
I think I should start by telling you about Solitaria, which is where I live. It's a miniscule, isolated town (hence the name – whoever thought it up was either a total genius or obsessed with playing cards) with a grand population of thirty-four citizens in nine households. It's such a small place that it isn't on most maps, which is why delivery men get so confused when they're asked to deliver stuff to Lou's shop. He gets a lot of phone calls asking for directions from Eridessa to here.
Eridessa, by the way, is the nearest place that could even be called a 'town'. It's still pretty small, but it has a proper shopping mall and school and a few clubs and stuff. It's a forty-five minute drive from here to there, and the nearest big city is two hours away.
Solitaria is where strange people collect like sediment in a river. Often they're outcasts from the rest of society – people who aren't wanted, or who technically shouldn't even exist.



Here's an example: the guy I called Lou, who runs a shop? His name isn't actually Lou, it's some weird alien name that everyone had trouble pronouncing, so he waved his green hand and said "Look, just call me Lou, OK?"
Anyway, he runs the only shop in Solitaria, which we rely on for pretty much everything we need to buy – food, clothes, and other bits and pieces like CDs and books and things. If we want something else, we have to either order it in from Eridessa or drive there ourselves. He lives above his shop on the second storey, and he has a room for rent, so his house sometimes doubles as a motel for passers-by.
I won't go on with a detailed list of all the families just now, because that would get stunningly boring, and I don't want to lose valuable readers before I even acquire them in the first place. So here goes with an attempt to tell a story about an ordinary day in an extraordinary community.


"Please, Nathan?" pleaded Amelia.
The rest of the group looked over at him. He just stood next to the wall, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.
"I, uh…have a phobia of camera flash," he said pathetically.
Tamara made a derisive noise in her throat, while I said "Well, let's see what happens when we try taking a photograph without flash at night time. I'm sure Amelia would love to try that."
Amelia wasn't listening to my sarcasm. "We really need the whole group in the shot. It's for my major project."
"And my major hobby," I added.
Nathan glanced uneasily from Amelia to me. "Why?"



"Because you're part of the group," I said. "And I wanted a photo of the whole youth population of Solitaria."
"I've only been here a few weeks!" he protested.
"And you still don't trust us?" Anastasia asked, sounding a little hurt. "We're not blabbermouths, Nathan. And we don't exactly have anyone to tell."
He fidgeted. "I'm meant to keep a low profile," he whispered.
"You're living in Solitaria!" yelled Tamara. "You can't get much lower than that!"
The loving and gentle conversation went on for a while. Nathan tried every excuse he could think of, and we tried every encouraging line we could imagine.
Finally, after several minutes of tense arguing, Nathan reluctantly shuffled into the side of the frame. Amelia shifted the tripod slightly to fit him in.
"OK, the timer's set…now," Amelia said, rushing quickly to stand on the side. "Smile!"
I smiled.
The camera beeped at us, then assaulted us with a blinding flash.



Anastasia groaned.
"Ah, my retinas," she exclaimed. "My eyes aren't used to so much light."
Amelia inspected the photograph. "Nup, we have to take another one," she said, and we all groaned. "Adam was blinking."
"Adam, how could you," I admonished my twin. "I mean, honestly. Blinking."
Such are the joys of taking group photographs. It took quite a while before Amelia was finally satisfied with the shot and we could get back to the important task of hanging out.
There are thirteen of us teenagers here in Solitaria, which is a surprising number, considering there are only thirty-four people here in total. We meet each evening after dark in the youth room of the community hall, to discuss school (which we all do via correspondence over the Internet) and just to socialise.
Our group contains two vampires (Anastasia and Oswald – the reason we meet after dark), a zombie (Hannah – the tragic result of parents consulting a voodoo mystic to bring back their dead daughter), and semi-ordinary human beings (Tamara and Jake, children with a werewolf father; Tia, stuck-up daughter of a retired exotic dancer and movie star couple; Artemis, a wannabe emo; Mystery, a wannabe goth; Nathan, whose family settled here very recently and are under witness protection; Adam, my twin brother; Julian, the most annoying person on Earth; and of course myself and Amelia.)
Amelia studied the final image on the screen of her camera. "Mystery, you're not smiling," she told her sister. She tilted the screen. "And neither are you, Artemis."
Mystery gave a sigh. "Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken, Spiritfire," she said, a little irritated.
Amelia frowned in annoyance. "Please don't call me that," she said.
"Is that your real name?" Nathan asked, with interest.
"Is Nathan your real name?" I asked innocently. He dropped his gaze.
"Hey, has anyone else seen those two new girls in town?" Tamara asked us.



Hannah made a noise of agreement. Julian just asked, "New people?"
"That means not someone we currently know," I told him sarcastically. He ignored me.
"I've seen one of them," Tia acknowledged, caressing her hair. "The blonde one. She has gorgeous hair. I wish there was a decent hairdresser around here."
"What, so my sister isn't good enough?" Anastasia asked coldly. Her older sister was training to be a beautician. She was a fast learner and was able to give excellent haircuts. To everyone except Tia, it seemed, who was never satisfied with anything or anyone.
"Does that mean someone's finally renting the room above Lou's instead of just staying for a night?" Adam asked.
"I think so," Tamara said doubtfully. "I saw one of them about to carry a freaking massive suitcase up the stairs, so probably."
"They were strong enough to lift it?" Julian smirked. "Considering what the average girl can fit into a suitcase, combined with the normal amount of upper body strength on a female, that surprises me."
"Would a punch surprise you, Julian?" I asked sweetly.
He looked at me. "From you? It would surprise me, considering your general lack of follow-through on so many things."
"Excuse me, when have I not 'followed through' on something before?" I shot back.



Julian's eyebrows shifted upwards. "It's getting late, I'm not sure we have time to go through the whole list--"
"OK, guys, we get it, you hate each other, now let's go home, yeah?" Amelia interrupted, just as I'd opened my mouth ready to fire back another angry retort.
Instead, I fired it at Amelia. "Oh come on, 'hate' is a strong word. We don't hate each other--"
"I beg to differ," Julian murmured.
"Home time!" Amelia said loudly, grabbing my arm and pulling me in the direction of the door.
"You're a real charmer, Julian," I said, allowing myself to be led towards the door. "If you ever manage to get a girlfriend, I'll send her a sympathy card."
Amelia pulled me out of the room, through the main front door, and outside onto the tiny front porch. "That was a bit harsh, El," she muttered.
"What?" I said. "He was being a real di--"
"So were you," she said, cutting me off.



I stared at her. "Thanks."
"No problem," she replied. "That's what you have friends for, Ellie: to tell you when it's time to pull your head in. We really don't need to witness an argument every single week between you two. I don't even know why you hate each other so much, to be honest."
"Because he's a pretentious wa--"
"Look, never mind," Amelia said, sighing. "Home?"
I exhaled noisily. "Yeah."

Now, dear readers, I do apologise for what follows. I realise just how boring it seems, but I feel I need to describe our community, if only for reference. I'll try to keep it entertaining. At least it's jazzed up with Amelia's photos and stuff.


Dessler – the Desslers moved here just a few weeks ago, apparently under witness protection. It was a bit strange, because it was all so secretive, and in a town this small there aren't really any secrets. We don't know their real names, but we do know about the witness protection part, which we're technically not meant to know. There's Marie and Anthony Dessler, and their children Nathan (who sulks a lot but has great hair) and Joanna (who's pretty cute for a seven-year-old.) They keep to themselves a lot, and we don't bother them.


Druitt – Rosie Druitt is a lovely person with an ugly disease, which causes great scar-like lesions to randomly appear on her skin and stay there. None of the doctors have a clue what's wrong with her, and when the disease began to show, her shallow D.H. of a husband decided to divorce. She moved out here with her son, Julian, whom I greatly dislike (and everyone knows it). He's arrogant, smug and patronizing. He's into philosophy and politics and all this other stuff, and always acts like he knows everything. The jerk. It must be hereditary. Paternally.


Guildenstern – a family of vampires. This, of course, provides a great opener when they meet someone in an Eridessa pub:
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"Sure, can you get me some blood? With a little paper umbrella in it, thanks."
According to Victoria, she actually tried that line on a guy who tried to pick her up once. She said he looked confused, but was probably too intoxicated to remember anything anyway.
They do share some similarities with the popular fictional vampires of literature, but they also lack some famous vampiric traits too. For instance, they don't drink blood at all. They eat regular human food. However, they cannot be exposed to any sunlight (they don't 'glitter', they burn), they can turn into a bat at will, they all have very pale skin, they are supernaturally strong, they are perpetually freezing, and - oh, yeah, they just happen to be immortal.
Because of this lack-of-mortality, the Guildensterns have a big family. Sophie and Edward's first child was Victoria, who has been twenty five for several decades. A little more recently, they had Oswald and Anastasia, who are currently teenagers, followed by Casper and Catherine, who are children. (They do 'grow' older, at an extremely slow rate, and stop growing when they reach what would be the equivalent of about 30 human years).



Larson – Enter yours truly. My mum's a biochemist, by the name of Doctor Jamie Larson. She moved our family here when Adam and I were two (we're twins), because she was deeply involved in researching some special plants, and she'd discovered an enormous population of them growing natively here in Solitaria.
Dad was a little unhappy at first, because he knew it would be difficult for him to find any work out here. He's a professional musician who used to accompany solo singers for their concerts, but now he works as a freelance composer. Instead of playing for the upcoming Australian Idols, he writes for them!
And if you think that's not much of a claim to fame because the hit songs for Idols are always stupid and sappy, it's because he deliberately makes them that way. Then he nearly kills himself with laughter as they're performed, and even moreso when the hit single starts rising up the charts. It also brings in some nice royalties.


Meyer – the most singularly weird family in Solitaria. Consists of Dream Meyer, Arthur Meyer, and their three children. My best friend Amelia belongs to this troupe, and she once so perfectly described them thus: "I'm a teenage girl striving to be normal in a household full of fruitloops. My mother thinks she's a Wiccan, my father thinks he's Neo and has to choose a red or blue pill, my sister's a goth who only speaks in Evanescence quotes and my brother's an emo who cried when I killed an ant. But none of them actually are what they think they are. Like, my mum isn't actually a witch, and Artemis isn't actually an emo, they just try to live up to their perceptions of what a witch or a goth or an emo is. We all have stupid names thanks to my mother and we have the strangest house in the entire country. How am I going to survive?" Her name is, in fact, Spiritfire, but she demands that everyone call her Amelia, which is "much more normal and a really pretty name."


Mink – a glamourous couple straight from the pages of gossip magazines. When the gossip got too much to handle, Yvette and Liam Mink decided to retire from their media-saturated, paparazzified lives early. Yvette was a well-known exotic dancer and actress in some dubious films, while Liam was also a famous actor from some big movies. Their equally glamourous daughter, Tia, is about as stuck-up as they are.


Reilly – A mostly ordinary family. Clarisse and Tom were a normal family with two charming daughters, Hannah, 14, and Kelly, 8. They lived an ordinary, happy life until one day Hannah was violently struck down and killed by a drunk driver while crossing the road. Her family was devastated, and were so desperate to get her back that they consulted a Vodun mystic who claimed to have a phone with a direct link to the underworld. She promised, for a fee, that she could return Hannah from the dead. Clarisse and Tom paid the fee she asked, and – surprising everybody – Hannah was indeed brought back to life.
Sort of.
Hannah came back as a zombie. Her parents, horrified at what they had done and what their daughter had become, fled their comfortable suburban community and settled in Solitaria to try and rebuild their shattered lives. Hannah's quality of "life" has fallen far lower than it had ever been before the accident. She has trouble communicating and can barely walk. Thankfully, we've accepted her for who she is, and not what she is. A truly tragic situation.


R'hu – Lou runs the shop, which I told you about earlier. His real name is Ul'udru R'hu (I think it's pronounced 'ool-a-ood-roo ra-hoo', with 'oo' as in 'book'. What a tongue-twister) and he's a genuine article alien - you know, green skin, pointy ears, black eyes, the whole shebang. I got kind of excited when I first met him, because I'm a huge fan of Doctor Who, and I thought maybe the Tardis was parked just around the corner and the Doctor was transporting some random alien back to his home planet but had difficulties and was stopping for repairs.
My imagination sometimes runs away from me. It's hard to get it back.
He's a really decent guy, despite being an alien. In fact he's surprisingly human. I'm not sure exactly how he ended up here. I am sure he makes great coffee, though. I know this because I regularly drink his coffee.


Rosencrantz - They're a mostly normal family. It's just that the father, Christopher, is a werewolf. Naturally, someone who turns into a man-wolf every time the moon is full wasn't a highly valued member of society. Luckily he found a sympathetic girlfriend and decided to move out here to start a family. It's good for us, because Christopher is a fully qualified policeman. It's ever so helpful for difficult criminals to be arrested by a werewolf. They become so much more compliant. He married an ordinary woman, Debbie, and they have three ordinary children: Tamara, Jake and Anna.

So there you have it: our totally bizarre congregation of citizens, here in Solitaria.

I feel surprisingly sucked in by this story. I didn't find chapter 2 boring at all!

"That," I told my mum, "was a particularly good dinner."
"Really," she asked me, as she started picking up our empty plates from the table. "And why was it so particularly good tonight?"



I considered this for a moment, then said "Well, it had a good salad, good potatoes, and no bacon."
Adam groaned. "I love bacon," he said.
"I don't," I said. I always have to hold my nose if I smell cooking bacon, otherwise I feel a sudden urge to purge.
Mum started carrying the plates into the kitchen, while Adam stood up and wandered over to the fridge, where he immediately started searching for more food, despite the perfectly satisfying meal we'd just eaten.
"Will you be coming to the community meeting, honey?" my dad called to Mum.
"Ah…no," she replied. "I have so much stuff to file."
"How's it all going, anyway?" I asked.
She nodded. "Pretty good," she replied. "The new seedlings are coming along really well. I'll be able to start making some more slides of the mature ones tomorrow…if I can clean up my lab."
"I'll send your regards, then," Dad said, getting up. He looked at me and glanced in Adam's direction. "Coming?"
Solitaria has regular community meetings each Sunday evening, where all of the residents gather at the hall to chat or discuss important stuff. Apparently, at this meeting we'd be introduced to Lola and Adrianna, the newcomers.
It doesn't take long to walk to the hall. In fact, in Solitaria, it doesn't take long to walk anywhere. The hall is a leisurely five minutes away, Lou's shop is right next to it, and they form a central 'hub' from which anyone's house is no more than ten minutes away (fifteen if you're lazy).
There were already quite a few people there when we arrived; in fact, it looked like most of the town. Typically, everyone had divided into age groups – children were clustered around the swing set, teenagers were gathered near the tree, and most of the adults were already inside.
I sidled up next to Tamara. "Are we planning to go inside?" I asked.



She shrugged. "Yeah, probably," she replied. "When the adults start calling us in."
I nodded. "Is Amelia here yet?" I inquired.
Tamara nodded. "Yeah, I think she's inside though," she said. "She said something about mosquitoes and left."
I smiled to myself. "Thanks," I said, and went to find Amelia.
The community hall is divided into two main rooms: the youth room, where we meet during the evening (and where the children meet for their classes during the day), and the meeting room, which is just a general room with some seats and a kitchenette. I headed into the latter.
It was filling up surprisingly quickly. Scanning the crowd, I managed to spot Amelia, who was talking to the Desslers while holding her camera. Marie kept looking hesitantly at her husband, who was looking rather uncertain and scowling as Amelia spoke to him.
I moved through the crowd until I was a little closer, and I was able to hear Amelia talking.
"…not going to be displayed anywhere, it's not going on the Internet, it's just a private interest project that I'm sort of sharing with Ellie, I promise…"
"But what I don't understand," Anthony Dessler said, "is why you need a photo of us in the first place."



"Well, you see, Ellie's got a kind of journal-slash-scrapbook thing happening, about what happens in this town. And you're a part of this town, so you get your very own page in the scrapbook. But it would look really odd if we didn't have a picture of you guys anywhere. So I'm just asking if, please, it might be possible for me to take just one quick group shot, while you're all here…"
I had to hand it to Amelia - she was using her very best 'dealing-with-difficult-people' tone that she was able to use so well. It came in especially helpful when we went shopping together in Eridessa and I needed help convincing store assistants that I didn't want to buy that particular dress, that I wanted to order in a particular book, that I hadn't actually stolen the CD but had just thrown away the receipt, etc. I have next to no social skills when it comes to people I don't know – I trip over my sentences, mix vowel sounds, and generally end up stammering my way through my clumsy words. This is why I prefer writing words rather than speaking them.
Before I could hear the Dessler's reply, someone gave a loud, high-pitched whistle and the room fell quiet. Someone ducked out of the room to call the teenagers and children in, while I heard Lou begin speaking.
"It'd be great if everyone could gather round, take a seat, you know…" he suggested, prompting the crowd to shift through the room and roughly assemble themselves facing towards Lou. I quickly headed for one of the seats, and ended up behind him as he spoke.
Two twenty-something girls were standing beside him, and I assumed that they were the people we were here to meet.



The girl closest to me had long, flowing blonde hair, pale skin and dark eyelashes, and was wearing a short pink summer dress. The girl next to her was her total opposite – dark skin, a narrow face framed by short black hair, and she was clad in skinny leggings, high heels, a blue T-shirt and a cropped black leather jacket. I tried to figure out how such complete opposites had both arrived in Solitaria together.
As it turned out, they were an example of how opposites attract. Lou gestured towards them and announced, "Now, the reason we're gathered here tonight is to meet our town's newest arrivals, Adrianna Smythe and Lola Marchetta. They're going to be renting the room above my shop for a few months at least – so, husbands, you can't come to my place now when you've been kicked out for forgetting your anniversary."
There was a general murmur of chuckles – it seemed quite a few of the town's members had made use of Lou's spare bed on dire occasions. Lou waited for the noise to subside before continuing.
"They'll also be helping me out in the shop, since they've decided to work for part of their keep, so don't be surprised to see them working the espresso machine or cash register."
"Aw," I murmured to no one in particular. "I want Lou to keep making the coffee."
"Anyway," Lou went on, "please make them feel welcome here, and – well – I'll let them introduce themselves." Lou moved aside and gestured again to Adrianna and Lola. "Fire away."
The two girls looked at each other, before Adrianna spoke. "Well, I guess I should say thankyou," she began, "and especially for the, ah, welcome…we've never really had that kind of welcome when we've arrived in a new town before…"
"That's because you've never come to Solitaria before!" someone called out, and people around them laughed.
Adrianna smiled. "Oh, we've been to some other small towns before…just never one quite as small as this."
She paused, and Lou said, "Tell us why you've come to Solitaria."
This time it was Lola who spoke. "Well, we've just come from a fairly enormous city, so we were kind of looking for a change."
"We're kind of like nomads," Adrianna added. "We tend to keep moving around from place to place all the time. In fact, the last time we stayed somewhere longer than six months was…oh, I can't even remember—"
"Littleton," Lola provided, nodding. "Which wasn't little, by the way," she added.
She paused again, and Adrianna glanced over at Lou, looking a bit uncomfortable at all the attention. Lou smiled encouragingly, and said "So - tell us about yourselves. What do you do to earn a living, what are your hobbies, and so on."
Adrianna smiled. "Well, we've both had a lot of different jobs over the years," she said with a small laugh. "Mine have mainly been secretarial work, office jobs, so on."
"I do a bit of this, and a bit of that," Lola said evasively. "Worked in a music store once. But that was a long time ago."
"Hobbies?" Lou prompted.
Lola tilted her head to one side, considering. "Uh, I dunno about that one, actually," she said. "I don't really have...hobbies, as such. Adrianna likes cooking..."
Adrianna smiled at this, nodding timidly. There was another lengthy pause, before Lola finished "So…yeah. Thanks, everyone."
Lou started clapping, and we all joined in. People started drifting away, forming small conversation groups and talking again, until a steady level of chatter filled the room. A few people made their way towards the newcomers to introduce themselves personally.
Amelia came and found me. "Ugh," she said.
"Hello to you, too," I replied.
She made a face. "Hi. You would not believe how long I've spent trying to convince the Desslers that I'm not going to spread the word about their presence here, and that all I want is one harmless photograph of them."



"Maybe they have a phobia of camera flash," I suggested. "It could run in the family."
"Just one photo!" Amelia exclaimed, grumpily. "That's all I'm asking for."
"Well you'd better hurry up and take it, because they're all waiting around for you over there," I said, pointing.
Amelia turned to look. "Oh!"
She bustled off with her camera, leaving me seated on the couch. Since people were standing directly in front of me, chatting, I couldn't easily get up without having to ask someone to move. Not wanting to interrupt anyone, I simply stayed put for a moment. The only other person sitting down was Julian, on the couch near my own. I deliberately avoided looking at him, for fear a glaring match would start – or for fear he might look at me and I'd have no idea how to arrange my face into some kind of appropriate expression.
In a few minutes, however, Dad provided my escape for me. He gradually weaved his way through the crowd towards me, looking a little anxious.
"Mum just called," he said, holding up his mobile phone. "She's hurt her finger rearranging the lab and she's asked me to bring Edward back to take a look at it."
I sighed. "What does she think she's done?"
"She thinks she might have dislocated or fractured one of the joints," he said. "Anyway, we'd better leave now…where's your brother?"
I shrugged. "Probably outside or something. I'll go find him, where do I meet you?"
"Well, I'm just going to start walking back. Edward will probably fly there before we arrive, so if you wanted to start making your way back, I don't mind when you do that…in fact, you can stay here if you really wanted to—"
"No, I'm coming," I said quickly, finally able to get off the couch. I walked out through the crowd to look for Adam, while Dad went to look for Edward Guildenstern, who was a fully qualified doctor. It seemed strange that a vampire – someone attracted to blood – would want to be a doctor, but he was brilliant at it. He was also a fully qualified electrician, plumber, carpenter, lawyer, schoolteacher, mechanical engineer, and architect.
When you're immortal, apparently, you spend a lot of time studying different things.
In the end, I discovered Adam outside under the tree, talking to Anastasia and Oswald. When I approached, they suddenly stopped talking and just looked at each other kind of shiftily.
I looked at them. "What's going on?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing," my brother said nonchalantly.



I looked at them suspiciously for a few more moments, then told Adam what was going on. While I spoke, I noticed a bat fly out of the community hall and fly towards my house.
"There goes Dad," Anastasia said, somewhat unnecessarily.
Adam and I left, walking quickly towards the house. Just before we went in the front door, I tried to catch him off guard.
"What were you guys talking about back there?" I asked.
He cast an irritatingly knowing look in my direction, then tapped his nose, before silently walking inside.
Brothers, I thought, following.
Mum was sitting on one of the couches, looking dejectedly at her hand. Her middle finger was swollen and red, and Edward was studying it carefully.



"Ouch," I said, taking a seat. "How'd you do that?"
Mum winced. "I must've really slammed the fridge door shut last time I closed it, and it was really hard to open…so I tried pulling extra-hard, but at a strange angle, and I felt my hand crack." She shrugged. "The door opened, though."
Dad just shook his head. "I leave you alone for a moment…"
"Don't start that," Mum said, mock-crossly. "When I left you alone once, you ended up breaking your leg!"
I guess we're an accident-prone family.
Edward let go of Mum's hand and sighed. "Well, it will have to be X-rayed, but I'd say you've either sprained it, torn a ligament, or somehow damaged the cartilage in that joint," he announced. "You'll need to get that X ray as soon as you can…try taking some ibuprofen, that should settle down any inflammation, and keep a cold pack on for a while to stop the swelling, OK?"
"OK," Mum sighed. She looked up at Dad. "Looks like we're travelling into Eridessa tomorrow, then."
Dad nodded. "It does look that way, doesn't it?" Eridessa has the closest medical facilities, including an X ray and pathology place.
"Thanks a lot for your help, Edward," Mum said. She smiled ruefully. "I'd shake your hand, but it might aggravate it."
Edward smiled. "Probably not a good idea."
"How much do we owe you?" Dad asked.
Edward shook his head. "Don’t worry about it," he said, gathering his things. "Free of charge."
"Are you sure?" Dad asked.
They haggled for a while – Edward refusing payment, Dad refusing the refusal of payment. Edward eventually won when he smiled, said a firm 'Goodbye', and turned into a bat before flying off.
Dad looked miffed. "How am I supposed to argue with a bat?"

...oh my goodness, you would not believe how stressful it is having 35 sims gathered in the same room, and then trying to get them all to behave while I take pictures (even with 'free will' off)! I think my parents must think I'm getting a bit too obsessed with the Sims; there were a couple of occasions I ended up yelling 'NO, SIT DOWN, ELLIE!' at the screen. Sigh.

TheBoyFromMars and BewitchedPrue, thank you so much for your kind words! Glad you like it.

Well believe me, it was worth it! This was another awesome chapter. There's something decidedly suspicious about those newcomers...

Unfortunately, the only time Mum was able to book an X ray was very late in the afternoon, almost before the X ray place closed. The next day, the middle joint of her middle finger had swollen to twice its normal size.
"Look at that!" she complained.
I looked. "Wow, Mum!" I exclaimed. "If someone annoys you, it'll be double the insult!"
I walked off before she figured out what I'd meant. When I was halfway up the stairs, I heard her make a noise in her throat and mutter "Ellie…"
I doubted she would've been able to raise that finger enough at anyone, anyway.



After Mum and Dad had embarked on the fairly long journey to Eridessa, I informed Adam that I was going to go over to Amelia's place for the rest of the afternoon, and that we'd arrive at the community hall that evening together. He nodded, then asked, "Is there anything important you're planning on doing tonight?"
I shrugged. "No, why?"
He shook his head. "Just wondering," he replied.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why?" I repeated.
"If you don't start heading to Amelia's soon, I'll put your books out of order," he threatened.
I scoffed. "I'll put them back again soon enough. Why?"
"You'll see," he said.
"You'd better tell me, you know," I warned, hoping I sounded somewhat threatening.
He smiled challengingly. "Or else...?"
"Because you can't just say stuff like that and not tell me what you mean."
"Actually, I think I just did."
I glared at him. "You're planning something."
"Am I?" he said innocently.
"Just tell me!"
"That would ruin the plan," he said. "Anyway, as much as I've enjoyed this little conversation, El, I really need to get back to this work I'm doing, here."
He turned away from me, grabbed the headphones that were lying on his desk, and clamped them over his ears, ignoring me. I strode over defiantly and yanked them viciously off his head.
"Hey," he exclaimed, flinching and automatically reaching for the headphones I was holding.
"What are you planning," I asked furiously.
"I'm not going to tell you," he replied, slowly.
We glared at each for a moment. Well, I was glaring, Adam just looked at me in a 'Give-me-back-those-headphones-please' sort of way. But, in the end, despite the arguing, I knew he wasn't going to tell me. I threw the headphones back onto his desk, disgusted, and walked out.
Brothers!



I made my way to Amelia's house. It didn't take long, since she only lives down the hill and around the corner from me. I climbed the steps to her front veranda and rang the doorbell.
She answered it soon enough, throwing the door open and inviting me in. "Welcome to the madhouse," she said.
Visits to the Meyer household are never dull. In all my years of being Amelia's friend, I think I can safely say that something out of the ordinary would always happen on any given day.
I headed towards the stairs, and turned my head to look into the enormous library where Amelia's dad, Arthur, spent nearly all of his time. Books lined the walls, a few were scattered on coffeetables, and comfy chairs were strategically arranged around a large fireplace. Arthur was, as usual, sitting on one of these chairs, immersed in a book.



I squinted. "Is he reading the Bible?" I asked Amelia.
She peered through the glass doors herself for a moment, then said, "Probably. It wouldn't surprise me. He was flicking through it yesterday, too."
Arthur Meyer had long ago decided that all of life was nothing but an illusion, with everything that happened controlled by some master being, and we humans had no real control. Nothing was real unless we believed it was. Consequently, he had made it his quest to discover the truth behind the illusion. I wasn't quite sure what the long black coat, long black hair, bushy moustache and dark sunglasses had to do with this. Perhaps he was trying to shield himself from illusionary predators.
"Where's your Mum?" I asked, as we started up the stairs to the second floor of the three-storey house.
Amelia shrugged. "Not sure," she replied. "Probably in her study, consulting with someone about the meanings behind their nightmares, or telling them how to make a love potion or something."
I was greeted by the usual sight of two shut doors once we reached the second floor. This floor was where the bedrooms were located for Amelia, Mystery and Artemis. It was also the location of the main bathroom. The third floor was reserved for Dream and Arthur only. I'd never been up there, and wasn't sure what I'd find if I did eventually go exploring there one day.
Amelia strolled through the only open door, leading to her own sunny-hued bedroom. It was a stark contrast to the dark, textured colour schemes of the rest of the house – something I knew was intentional on Amelia's part.



She stretched out on her bed, while I sat on her lounge. Amelia sighed. "I've finally got photos for every family in this place."
I nodded. "Cool."
"The Desslers were the biggest problem," she continued with a slight groan. "All this witness protection rubbish…it nearly drove me insane. All I wanted was a photograph."
"But you got one, right?" I asked.
She nodded. "Not without a lot of encouragement, pleading, and persuasion," she said. "But yeah. Got there in the end."
We nodded at each other, as though in deep mutual agreement about something. Amelia picked at a loose thread on the bottom of her T shirt.
I suddenly remembered something else to talk about. "Hey, I haven't told you what happened to my Mum's hand yet, did I?"
"I heard Edward made a visit to your house last night," Amelia said. "What happened?"
Before I could begin, a bizarre rumbling sound seemed to vibrate through the floor, followed by some more scratchy, distorted electronic noises.
Amelia rolled her eyes and looked cross. "Hang on a minute," she muttered, striding across the room, opening her door, and walking quickly over to knock loudly on the door to Artemis's bedroom.
"ARTEMIS!" she yelled over the din. It stopped, and the door opened a fraction.
Artemis looked dully up at his sister. "Yes?"



"Can you keep it down?" Amelia asked. "We're trying to have a conversation, and you should know by now that you need lessons before you can play guitar properly."
"Are you trying to stifle my artistic expression?" Artemis asked.
"I'm trying to convince you that you can't actually play that thing."
There was a brief pause, and I could hear some kind of hardcore screamo music playing in the background. Artemis looked dejected. "Nobody understands me," he whispered pathetically.
"Don't start that again," Amelia sighed. "We understand you well enough to know that you can't play guitar—"
"But you don't understand me, really," Artemis repeated. He let out a little sigh. "I feel so…"
"Disaffected?" Amelia suggested. Artemis nodded, and Amelia snorted. "Well, write about it in your journal and stop playing guitar, OK?"
Artemis didn't reply. Instead, he just shut the door.
Amelia rolled her eyes at me again. "Hopeless."
We went back into her room and resumed our conversation. "Will he be alright?" I asked.
"He's fine," Amelia said, flapping her hand at me. "Stupid tryhard, that's all. Anyway, you were telling me about your Mum's hand?"
I briefly described what had happened. Amelia was a great listener – she really participated in whatever conversations she was having with people. Instead of nodding and making agreeable noises on autopilot, she actively gasped, laughed, or frowned in all the right places. It was an admirable trait that I was yet to find in anyone else.
We hung out for a while, watching TV and checking Amelia's MySpace. MySpace was one of the main methods of communication between the youth of Solitaria. It was the ideal form of non-verbal communication between people who were awake at different times (such as the Guildensterns) or who never left their room except to go to the hall meetings (such as Mystery and Artemis). The only one of us without a MySpace was Hannah, but we weren't sure exactly how much she could really understand, as no one had any idea what shape her addled brain was in.
After a while, Amelia looked at her clock and frowned. "Mum should've called us for dinner by now…I'd better check."
Once again, we left Amelia's room. This time, there was some kind of noise coming from behind Mystery's door: a high, long wail set against familiar guitars and strings.
"Ahhhhhh, ahh-ahh-I'm, looooo-sing my mind…"
Amelia banged on the door. "Mystery, give it a rest, yeah?"
"…staaaaand, there and staaaaare, as my woooooorld divi-iiiiiiiides—"



Amelia threw the door open, and the music crescendoed before falling away dramatically. Mystery pivoted on the spot, stared directly at her sister, and crooned "Yooooooou! Belooooooooong! To meeeeeee…"
"Dinnertime," Amelia said.
"…my snoooow, white, quee-eeeeen…"
Amelia shut the door again without comment. She then proceeded to knock on Artemis's door, but there was no response. She gave up and started walking downstairs in disgust.
A little concerned by the lack of noise coming from inside the room of her brother, I opened the door to check on him. He was sitting in his chair, sobbing, and I noticed angry red marks on his wrists.
"Artemis!" I exclaimed, rushing over. I stopped in my tracks, then yelled, "Amelia!"
"What?"
"Your brother's hurt!" I cried. A second later, I heard footsteps hurriedly thumping up the stairs again, and Amelia came into the room.
"What's happened?" she asked me, genuinely concerned. She then looked at her brother and let out the biggest sigh I'd ever heard her give.
"Oh, for God's sake, Artemis. Grow up." She turned to me, and led me out of the room. "Come on…"
"But what about his wrists?" I exclaimed. "He's hurt!"
"He's done this many times before," Amelia explained patiently. "He tries to do the whole emo thing, you know…" She mimed cutting her wrists, and I cringed. "But he's so pathetic and lacking courage that he ends up just getting a few raw red marks. He then pretends he actually cut himself whilst getting those marks. It's definitely nothing serious. Come on."
A little bemused, I followed Amelia downstairs, where she started looking for her mother. It didn't take long to find her: she was outside, meditating under a tree.



Amelia stood in the doorway. "Mum!" she yelled.
Dream opened her eyes very slowly and raised her eyebrows at her daughter.
"Are you planning on starting the dinner?" Amelia asked.
Dream's eyebrows lowered. Then she went on with her meditation, leaving Amelia to cook.
She sighed again. "Ellie, what am I going to do with my family?" she wanted to know.
I couldn't reply.

The meeting at the hall that evening was fairly short. No one seemed to have much to say, and a lot of us were still pretty tired after the previous night's late meeting.
"I didn't get home from the hall til eleven," Tamara yawned, "and didn't get to sleep til about twelve-thirty."
"Well I didn't get to sleep til two in the morning," Tia said, then grinned slyly. "But Jake had a lot to do with that."
"Thanks, Tia, we don't really want to know," I cut in.
We chatted for a while, before about half the group decided to go home early. Some of us stayed: Anastasia had to do lab work for her biology course, Julian had to do research, and Oswald just had nothing better to do.
I was about to leave, when my phone rang. I examined it and noticed 'Mum' was calling.



I flipped it open. "Hi, Mum."
"Hi, Ellie," Mum said, sounding tired and exasperated. "Listen, we're not going to be home until quite late."
"Why?"
A sigh. "Apparently, something showed up on the X ray, but it needs some other further test to see how much damage I've done."
"What have you done?"
"They think I've torn the cartilage in my joint."
I winced. "Ouch."
"Anyway," Mum sighed again, "I need to go to the hospital for this further test thing, but it means we won't be home until fairly late. Do you think you can manage?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. "I hope everything goes well."
"I hope so too. Can you put me on to your brother for a moment?"
"Yeah, hold on…" I handed the phone to Adam, mouthing 'Mum'. He started talking away.
Anastasia was standing at the lab bench, looking confusedly from a row of test tubes to a piece of paper beside her. She yawned a little, then looked at me. "Ellie?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you help me out?"
I wandered over to look at what Anastasia was doing. She sighed. "It's too early in the night to be thinking…have you done this prac yet?"



Both of us were taking biology as one of our HSC courses* (see footnote), but I was able to make use of my mum's lab and expertise when it came to practicals. Anastasia, on the other hand, had to rely on written instructions and the small lab setup in the community hall.
Adam interrupted me before I could answer. "Ellie, you've got your house keys, don't you?"
I patted my pockets. "No, but since you were the last to leave, you should have them…don't you?"
Adam looked sheepish. "I think I locked them in the house."
I exploded in exasperation. "How did you manage that?"
"I'm talented."
"Great," I muttered. "Now I'm stuck here with this moron—"
"Hey!"
"Not you, Anastasia…" I sighed. Adam and I wouldn't be able to get into our own home until our parents returned, and we had no idea when that would be.
"Well then, Anastasia, I guess I'm going to be able to stay here and help you for a lot longer than I thought," I said, sighing again.
"Thanks," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Um, anyway. Yeah, it's something to do with rennin and milk and stuff, but I can't get it to clot…"
It was a fairly simple prac, involving enzymes and substrates, so I was able to help Anastasia without too much trouble. I started off by pointing out a crucial error she was making in her experiment.
"Ohhhh!" she said, understanding. "Oh, right. No acid. OK. That makes more sense." She looked at her experiment for a moment. "I'm going to need more test tubes, then."
I nodded. She then glanced up, appeared to make eye contact with my brother for no apparent reason, then called out to Julian, who was studying an encyclopedia on the couch (seriously, who even does that any more? Hasn't he ever heard of the Internet? Google? Wikipedia? Honestly).



"Oi, Jules, can you get me some more test tubes from the store room?" she called.
Julian looked up, looked from Anastasia's face to the experiment, then reluctantly put the book down. "You're sure you can't get them yourself?"
Anastasia shook her head, although I didn't see why she couldn't get them herself. Perhaps she was just lazy.
Julian got up, leaving his encyclopedia on the couch, and walked into the store room attached to the youth room, which held plenty of miscellaneous supplies for the hall.
Suddenly, Anastasia grabbed my right arm. It didn't hurt, and she was gentle enough, but vampires are ten times stronger than the average human – and soon, Oswald came and grabbed my other arm, completely overpowering me.
"Hey!" I cried. "What's going on?"
"Oh, nothing," Oswald said, grinning from ear to ear. They both started pushing and dragging me towards the storeroom. "It's just another…experiment."
I tried breaking free of their grip, but it was impossible. I knew they didn't have anything malicious in mind—
It clicked when I saw Adam holding the key to the store room door. "Oh, no," I said, shaking my head and trying even harder to break free. "No, no, don't you dare—!"
"This is going to be interesting," Oswald commented casually to Adam, and he laughed.
"ADAM!" I yelled.
"Yeah?"
"STOP IT!"
But they didn't. In fact, they'd already dragged me right up to the store room door, and with a gentle shove, they pushed me inside, next to a surprised Julian.
I whirled around as soon as they'd released my arms, but the door was already closed, and I heard the key turn in the lock.
"ADAM!" I yelled again, slamming my hands against the door ineffectually. "Let me out of here!"
All I could hear was laughter coming from the other side of the door, and a slap that could have been a high five. I banged on the door again. "Let us out!"
More laughter. "Goodnight, Ellie," Adam called through the door. "Goodnight, Julian…"
I kicked the door, swearing loudly at the people on the other side. They'd been planning this all along: shutting me in the store room with my known adversary and the biggest jerk on the planet, Julian Druitt.



I was livid. I kept banging on the door for a while, but I realised they'd all left, and there wasn't much use. With another pang of anger, I realised I didn't even have my phone to call for help – Adam still had it from when Mum had called. As well as that, Mum and Dad wouldn't even be home for who knows how long, so no one would realise I was gone!
It was all so frustrating. Plus, I could already feel bruises blossoming on my arm where I'd struggled against Anastasia's grip. I vowed that I would get them back somehow, in some other kind of nasty prank.
But until then, I had to get through being shut in a small room with Julian.
Once I'd had enough of clamouring for release, I stood and turned to him, avoiding eye contact. "Some wonderful friends we have," I said acidly.
Julian nodded. "That's the last time I go to get test tubes for anybody," he said.
There was a long, awkward silence, during which neither of us looked at each other. I looked around our prison, taking in the dusty books on shelves, the disused cleaning equipment, the abandoned artwork that someone had left on the floor, and some writing in black crayon on the ceiling: JENNY WAS HERE 2004.
"Huh," I commented softly. "What an achievement. I'm so proud of her. Such vision."
Julian glanced up, then looked at me. "I wonder, have you always been this sarcastic?"
"No," I replied quickly. "I'm only sarcastic around arrogant people."
"So, what is your problem, exactly?" Julian said, starting to sound a little angry.
"You!" I yelled, then corrected myself. "No, not you necessarily. Your attitude. I cannot stand your attitude."



"My attitude!?" Julian exclaimed in disbelief, his voice beginning to rise.
"Yes, your attitude," I emphasised. "You're always so arrogant and patronizing, like you know everything, but no one else can hope to understand it, like we can't all ascend to your highly esteemed level of intelligence—"
"Patronizing?" Now Julian sounded angry. "I don't see what you're getting at— at least I don't blow my top at anyone if they don't understand something. I try to talk to people on their own level—"
"See?" I yelled. "You're doing it again! Just listen to yourself for once!"
"Maybe you should listen to what you say a bit more often, too!"
"Oh? And what do I say that's so terrible?"
"You always think you're being so funny," Julian sneered. "So witty. They say sarcasm is the lowest form of humour, you realise."
I made an 'I don't believe this!' noise. "So now I'm the one with an attitude problem, am I?"
"Yes!"
"Well, that's news to me, buddy! Because to me, it seems as though you're the one with the superiority complex, and I'm the one trying to find humour in things—"
"Don't play me for a fool," Julian said, casually, but with venom.
I stopped. "What?"
"You heard what I said," he said, simply.
"Oh?" I stopped for a moment, trying to figure him out. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that."
"Don't say things if you're not going to explain them!" I cried in frustration.
"But according to you, that involves being patronizing," Julian countered swiftly.
I stopped again and just glared at him. "There are different— ways of explaining things," I said. "You don't have to be smug about it."
"And you don't have to be spitting sarcasm every time you want to make people laugh."
"That's just what I do!" I cried. "It's part of who I am!"
"Then you have no right to insult part of who I am!" Julian retorted.
"Well, you asked me what my problem was," I said. "So I told you, you absolute tool."
I stopped, and stood there with my arms folded, challenging him to reply. He just looked at me as though trying to figure me out.



"You always have to have the last word, don't you?" he said. "As though every conversation is a contest that you have to win, and you always have to be right."
"No, that's generally a male mentality, I've found," I replied.
Julian stayed silent. He just stood there, looking at me.
I wasn't sure if he was acknowledging that I'd won, or disproving what I'd just said about males always wanting to win, and thus proving me wrong. Whatever it was, it felt uncomfortable. As though there was too much hot air hanging between us. Too much pressure.
Acting on impulse, I turned quickly to face the shelves of dusty old books, picked one at random, and sat down to pretend to read it, deliberately not looking at Julian. Inside, I was still fuming. I wouldn't have been surprised if smoke had started pouring from my ears.
After a few seconds had passed, Julian pointed out, "Do you realise you're trying to read 'A History of Art' upside down?"
I looked up at him, still holding the book. There was just a trace of a smile on his face, and I felt a brief whisper of a smile flit across my own lips, too, despite myself.
I sighed, putting the book back onto a shelf at random, and Julian sat down near the abandoned artwork, facing me. He glanced up at the ceiling. "I wonder how Jenny managed to write that on the ceiling?"
"A ladder?" I suggested.
He shrugged, nodding. "Possible, I guess."
Silence. I was suddenly worried that there would be awkward silences that neither of us would be able to fill, and I could feel one about to take hold very soon. I tried to prevent it.



"Did Amelia take a good photo of you and your mum?" I asked.
Julian nodded. "Yeah, she showed it to us afterwards. I'm not usually a fan of photos myself, and Mum definitely didn't like it. She hates anyone looking for too long at her face. But Amelia's nice enough."
"Nice enough?" I asked, slightly teasing. "My best friend is only 'nice enough'?"
He shrugged. "You know what I mean."
More awkward silence. This time, Julian broke it. "I think I'm going to kill those three when we finally get out of here."
"Well, I'll kill my brother," I offered. "But I'd like to see you take on two vampires."
"I'd somehow force them into surrender," he said.
"I'd like to see you try," I challenged teasingly.
He looked thoughtful. "Well," he began, "I guess I could…" He trailed off, still thinking. Then he said, "No, I probably wouldn't be able to do much, actually."
I laughed a little. "That's a change," I said.
"What?" he asked, grinning slightly.
"Admitting you're wrong," I said.
He shrugged. "I know I'm wrong sometimes…just not very often." He threw a quick sideways glance at me, as if to check whether I'd explode at the comment, and start the fighting all over again. But I didn't. I just raised my eyebrows and gave him a disbelieving half-smile.
We somehow managed to fill in the time, talking a little awkwardly about various things. I began to wonder, though, exactly how long we'd be stuck in here. My legs were starting to ache, and I was feeling thirsty.
I stood up, groaning with effort and stretching my aching limbs. "I really shouldn't be sitting on the ground," I muttered.



"Why?" Julian asked, also standing. "Too dirty for you?"
I shot him a nasty look. "No," I replied, a little offended. "I had deep vein thrombosis a few years ago, remember? I'm not meant to sit for too long with my legs crossed, on the ground."
His eyebrows went up. "I do remember that, actually...you were wearing some kind of strange medical stockings for a while?"
This, of course, provided another conversation avenue to pursue. I told him all about my medical crisis: the aching legs, the ultrasounds showing clots in my veins that I didn't understand, the endless blood tests, the painful injections, and the gruelling six-month long ordeal of a revolving door of blood thinners and blood tests.
Then, surprisingly, he opened up as well, telling me about his own demons: the mysterious disfiguring disease that haunted his mother, how his father left as soon as she developed scars, how she was shunned by her community because of her shocking appearance, their flight to the isolated community of Solitaria, and the process of trying to come to terms with their lifestyle.
"It was good, because everyone here was very supportive, and eventually my Mum wasn't afraid to walk out the front door. Lou was especially good to us. I think he sort of understood how Mum felt, being stared at all the time. Anyway, he helped us set up the house, and gave us free food and coffee for a few weeks while we settled in." He laughed. "Then, once we felt more comfortable, he grinned and started charging."
I laughed. Lou had a mischievous streak that belied his gentle, intelligent personality. I could imagine him smiling cheekily at Rosie and telling her the price of coffee.



"What did your mum say when he started asking for money?" I asked.
"She just smiled, and handed it over," Julian replied. "She really didn't mind. And she was more than grateful for his hospitality."
Suddenly, after what had turned out to be several hours, I heard the rattle of a key in the lock of the store room door. It was thrown open to reveal Amelia, standing there, stunned to see us.



"Oh, my God!" she said, then launched straight into her tale. "So, I called your mobile to tell you that you'd left your wallet on my desk, and your brother answered it. So I asked him why he was answering your phone, and he told me that you weren't available. I asked him what on Earth he meant, threatened to blackmail him, and eventually he told me that you'd been locked in the store room with Julian." She leaned around the doorframe and waved. "Hi, Julian."
He waved back. I stood up again, groaning. "Blackmail, huh? I wish I'd thought of that."
"I can't believe they did that!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "That's really slack! I started telling your brother off, but he hung up on me."
"Don't worry," I assured her, "he's going to cop it sweet when I get home."
"Are you OK?" Amelia looked concerned. "Like do you need anything?"
"A glass of water would be nice," I admitted, "but—no, don't worry about it Amelia, I'll get one when I get home."
"Are you sure?" she asked. I nodded.
I was surprised that I hadn't noticed how stuffy it had become in the store room – going out into the hall again was like entering a fresh, new world. Julian followed, saying "Thanks" to Amelia on the way. He looked at me briefly, said goodbye, and walked out of the hall, heading home.
As we walked out, Amelia said "I hate to ask, but…how did it go?"
"What?"
"In there." She gestured with her head towards the storeroom. "With the person you hate."



"I don't hate him," I said, affronted. "I've been through this before; I never 'hated' him. I just couldn't stand him. But we both survived."
Amelia looked surprised. "Wow," she said.
Even I had to admit to myself – it had been an interesting experience.

------------------------------------------
* AUSTRALIAN REFERENCES 101: 'The HSC' = Higher School Certificate. In the state of New South Wales, students in their final two years of high school choose various subjects to study (usually between 5 and 7 courses). Over two years, they complete assignments and other coursework that goes towards their 'HSC', which is the qualification they leave school with. There are also final exams at the end of all this coursework. These exams generally cause much stress and media attention, since the marks you get at the end of your HSC generally decide where you go after high school - which university course you get into, college, etc. Other Australian states have an equivalent to the HSC in New South Wales.

Whoops, I almost missed two chapters there! I shoudl check back here more regularly. I can't wait for another update, I just find this little world you've created so fascinating!

I am really liking this story so far. I love your writing style.

I don't think I've quite had 35 sims in the same room, but I have had to handle quite a few and that was stressful enough, so well done for getting through the situation without throwing your computer out a window!

Well, I'm taking a bit of a break from writing like a narrative. Not much has happened for about a week, except for a few important things which I'll quickly update you on:
My brother did come to justice. When I finally trudged through the front door (I'd been in that storeroom for just over three hours!), I immediately told Mum and Dad – who were home by that time – what my brother had done. They weren't impressed, and he's been forbidden to leave the house for a week. For someone who enjoys socialising with people, grounding is a pretty decent punishment.



Mum's X ray and test results came through a few days later, and apparently she'd torn the cartilage in the second joint of one of her fingers. Although there were no broken bones as such, this almost guaranteed that she'd have shocking osteoarthritis in that joint later on in her life. She seemed to accept this, though. She got back to work pretty soon after that. It was difficult to work with the plants with a bandage on her finger, as the bandage became repeatedly soaked with whatever was in the plants, and generally stayed that way for the rest of the day. She didn't seem to mind; in fact, she said it had an almost soothing effect on her injured finger and started investigating whether the plants had anti-inflammatory properties.



My Dad enlisted my help the other day. I was in my room, happily typing away at a novel I was writing, when I heard a knock on my door.
"Come in!" I called, quickly saving and minimising the story.
Dad wandered in. "Ellie, I was wondering if you're up to a bit of songwriting," he said.
I laughed. "I'm not much of a musician, Dad."
"No, no, not the music," he said. "I thought you might like to help with the lyrics."
I raised my eyebrows. "OK," I agreed. "What's it about?"
He led me downstairs to his music room. It had such a different atmosphere to my mum's lab – where the lab was clean, white and smelt of plants and detergent, the music room was cosy and cheerful. I noticed the electric piano was turned on and Dad's laptop had a document open on the screen.



"Apparently," Dad said, sitting down on the piano stool, "I've been commissioned to compose the song for the next Australian Idol winner."
My eyes bugged. "Really?" I asked. Dad had written for Idols before, but never the winning single that they'd release if they won. This was a big deal for him, since the single invariably made it into the top ten on the music charts, meaning Dad would be raking in the royalties if it did.
Usually, though, Dad liked to write songs that were cliched and self-mocking, and I wondered if he was going to do the same for a song that was destined to be so big. The stakes were pretty high.
"So is this going to be a serious song?" I asked. "Or one of your mock-songs?"
"Oh, it'll be a mock-song," he said, grinning slyly. "I can't wait to see what'll happen to this one."
I grinned. "What have you got so far?"
"I'll show you…" Dad started to play what he'd written, giving me a bit of a commentary as he went. "OK, so it starts off with these repeating empty fifths, played gently with a moderately slow tempo, see…just simple, but used in so many songs…and it uses a standard chord progression, one-five-six-four…and the lyrics I've got so far go a little bit like this…"
He cleared his throat and began to sing along to the soft piano backing.
"I'll be your shelter in a storm,
And in the dark, I'll be your light
And when it's cold I'll keep you warm,
All through the long cold winter's night…"
"That sounds really familiar," I said, and he nodded, still playing.
"It's one of those uplifting, hopeful, I'll-be-there songs," Dad said, smirking. "I was wondering if you'd like to write the chorus, here are the chords…"



He played some chords on the piano, looking at me. I glanced from the lyrics on the screen to the keys as Dad was playing them.
"Um…" I thought out loud. "How about…something about…looking inside yourself?"
"Sounds good," Dad said, nodding. I typed it in.
Dad kept playing chords, and I kept thinking. "What about…listening to your heart?"
"That was the title of one of the past Idol songs, but…yeah, chuck it in," Dad said, nodding.
Eventually, as Dad played, I cobbled together the corniest lyrics I could come up with. Dad read through them, added the second verse and the bridge, and laughed.
"If this goes to number one," he said, still chuckling, "it will be hilarious."


A few days later, I noticed Mum had removed the bandage from around her finger.
"Your bandage is gone," I said, surprised.
"Yeah," Mum said, glancing at her hand. "My finger doesn’t hurt much any more." She frowned. "Doesn't hurt at all, in fact. I think it's time to book another X ray."
They drove into Eridessa for another X ray the following day. When the results came back, however, both Mum and Edward were shocked. Edward suggested that Mum have another test at the hospital, similar to the one she'd had the first time. So she did that, and when those results came back, they stunned everyone.
It seemed that the injury had healed much, much faster than expected. Mum's cartilage was now completely normal again. Which, in itself, was completely abnormal.
Mum, of course, was convinced that the plants had something to do with it, since her bandages had been routinely soaked in the extract from the plants every day, as she said it was soothing. Consequently, she spent increasing amounts of time in her lab, conducting investigations and experiments throughout the day and long into the night.
Finally, one day, she came striding out of her lab, grinning from ear to ear. I just happened to be coming down the stairs at the time to see this.
"Ellie!" Mum said, before she reached over and inexplicably gave me a hug.



I was surprised. "Wow, I should come downstairs more often!"
"Have you seen your father?" Mum asked, still excited.
"He's probably in his music room…why?"
"I've just made a big breakthrough," Mum said, sounding thrilled. Intrigued, I followed her into Dad's room.
"Honey," she said to Dad as he typed on his laptop.
"Mmm?" he murmured, still typing. He paused, rolled his chair over to his electric piano, and played a short sequence of notes before rolling back to his computer and typing again.
"I've just made what I think is a really big breakthrough," Mum said excitedly.
Dad finally stopped typing and looked up at Mum. "Really?"



"Well, you know how I thought those plants had anti-inflammatory properties," Mum said. Dad nodded, and Mum went on. "I kept conducting some further tests, especially after all my X ray results showed my cartilage had grown back so quickly. Anyway, to cut a long story short, it appears that the extract from those plants promotes cartilage growth and repair."
Dad blinked. "Cartilage growth and repair?" he repeated. Then his eyes widened. "What about regeneration?"
Mum nodded. "That too," Mum said. "And I faxed all my results over to Bosrich, who then tried out the experiment on a patient who had almost no cartilage left in his knee because of arthritis. And you wouldn't believe it, but after a few days, he started growing fresh cartilage in that joint! The plants seem to kick-start the stem cells to start producing new cartilage tissue, and self-repair the damage caused by degenerative arthritis."
Mum paused for a moment for dramatic effect. "If all goes to plan, I think I've just found the cure for osteoarthritis!"
Dad's jaw dropped, and he got up to hug Mum. "Honey, that's fantastic," he murmured.
Bosrich was the main pharmaceutical research facility that my Mum worked for, and they were also connected to a big hospital. If Mum had found a cure for arthritis, for which there was currently no cure, she would be improving the lives of people all around the world. It was a discovery of tremendous proportions.
Mum and Dad stood there for a while longer, discussing Mum's work. I started to get a little bored, and went to leave.
"Ellie," Dad called as I left. "I've almost finished the final score for our song."
"OK," I said, "what's the title?"
"'Together'," he smirked. "And I've just recorded the demo, too."
"Hey, does that mean that if the song is big, I'll get some of the royalties?" I asked, grinning.
Dad nodded. "And your name on the liner notes."
"Cool," I said, grinning from ear to ear. It was a big day for the Larsons.

Heh, thanks again...I've actually already written the entire story in full, and so now it's just a case of taking all the pictures and uploading it here. I have to keep trying to space out the uploads a little and resist the urge to just put the whole thing up at once.

And thanks, el flel...I start kicking myself every time I see I've written 'all the town gathered at the community hall' because I know it means some serious abuse of the teleportation shrub and boolprop are on the way!

one picture seems different is it supposed to be like that?

And this is a great story I love the vampire family.

Haha yw love that first picture, really illustrates sibling rivalry! And the bits about writing piss-taking songs for Australian Idol is just hilarious! Reminds me of Peter Kay's 'Britain's Got The Pop Factor And Possibly A New Celebrity Jesus Christ Soapstar Superstar Strictly On Ice'. Don't know if you'd have seen it (or even heard of it) but I get the distinct feeling you would enjoy it!

"That one looks good."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"I thought it made my arms look kind of fat…"
"Amelia? You couldn't look fat if you tried."
"Do you think it's too…grannyish?"
"Grannyish? No. Why?"
"The lace…"



It was the following Saturday, and Amelia and I had decided to make a trip into Eridessa to do some shopping. Amelia happily drove us there (she'd gotten her P plates* about a month ago – the only teenager in our town to have got them), claiming she needed to buy 'a nice dress'. We'd already been to several stores, where Amelia had tried on 'nice' dresses, but none had passed her test – whatever that was. The dress she was trying on at that moment seemed to be the most promising yet.
Amelia studied herself in the mirror. "I think I might shop around and come back to it," she said decisively, heading back into the change rooms to change.
I'd been clothes-shopping a little myself, since there was such a bigger range in the Eridessa stores compared to Lou's tiny selection in his shop. I'd already purchased some new jeans, a black polka-dot skirt, and a few tops, one of which would have made Mystery jealous (a black strapless top, designed to look a little like a corset but made of soft, comfortable material). And – an added bonus – it had been on sale for only $15. Bargain.
Amelia returned from the change room and handed the dress to the shop assistant. Then we walked out of the store, hunting for another one.
"So, a cure for arthritis, huh?" Amelia asked. "And your mum found it."
"We're still not entirely sure yet," I cautioned. "But we think we've found it. Of course, they still have to do heaps of testing, and that could take years. Mum seems to think though, based on all the theory behind it, that yes, she's found a cure."
"Perhaps your mum should try the plant extract on cancer!" Amelia suggested. "It might be a miracle plant!"
I laughed. "I doubt it. To me it just looks green and viney."
We kept walking and chatting until Amelia pulled me into another clothes store and we both started browsing the racks. Suddenly, I heard Amelia give a little gasp.
"I've found it!" she cried.
"What?"
"The dress!"
I looked at what she was holding up. It was short, strappy and a vivid dark blue, with a large black bow at the back.
"Try it on!" I urged, and Amelia happily found her size and trotted off to the change rooms again. I kept browsing while I waited for her to emerge.
In a few minutes, she did. The dress looked great on her.



"That looks great on you!" I cried enthusiastically. She beamed, and looked at herself in the full length mirror.
"I love it," she sighed. "Much better than the fat-arms granny-lace one I almost bought. God, I'm glad I shopped around."
Before I could tell her that her arms didn't look fat, she pranced back into the change room. I smiled and rolled my eyes heavenwards. Amelia was a very excitable shopper.
Before long, we were walking out of the shop, Amelia with a new bag to carry. She seemed very happy with her purchase.
"Well, now that you're satisfied," I said, "I'd like to go to the library."
"Don't you already have enough books?" Amelia sighed.
"One can never have enough books," I said firmly. Although I wasn't able to borrow from the library, it provided me with a good browsing opportunity: if I found a book that looked promising, I'd note down the title and author, and then ask Lou to order it in for me to buy, or I bought it online. It was a pretty good system, in my view.
Amelia, however, was easily bored by the library. If she ever wanted something to read, she generally borrowed books from my personal collection. "How about you go to the library, while I go to the art place?" she suggested.
"Sounds like a plan," I agreed. Amelia, on the other hand, could spend hours in the art supplies store, where she purchased all her photography gear.
Just before we reached the spot where we'd split up, we walked past a café, with tables spilling out onto the street. My nose was assaulted by a familiar, pungent odour.
"Uh oh!" I groaned, clutching my nose.



Amelia looked worried, and sniffed the air. She quickly understood, and sighed.
"It's really not that bad," she said, while I felt my stomach roll with nausea.
"Not for you," I said, nose still resolutely blocked.
Amelia shook her head. "I cannot believe you actually react this badly," she said. "Most people love the smell of frying bacon."
"Not this one," I grimaced, and located the source of the smell: a man had ordered a serving of bacon and eggs, even though it was nowhere near breakfast time. I glared at him. He didn't even notice.
"Anyway," Amelia said, when we'd walked far enough away from the cafe so that the offensive smell was no longer detectable. "You go to your library and I'll go to my art store, OK?"
"Uh huh." We went our separate ways.
The smell of books was much more pleasant than the stench of bacon. I inhaled deeply as I entered the library, savouring the scent of old, printed pages. I wished I could bottle the smell and take it with me – I didn't go into Eridessa Library as often as I wanted to.
I also liked the peacefulness of the place. The only noises came from the soft whir of computers behind the librarian's desks and the occasional whisper of an enquiry. There was also a comparatively noisy self-checkout machine, which clunked alarmingly every time someone scanned out a book to borrow. I tried to ignore it.
I headed towards the youth fiction section, passing the desks of public-access computers along the way. As I glanced at them, a particular person caught my attention, staring intently at the screen. I was surprised – I thought that people under witness protection weren't meant to make themselves so obvious when out-and-about.



"Hello, Mr. Dessler!" I whispered, coming over and smiling.
He jumped about a foot in the air, and hastily minimised whatever had been on his screen. I'd caught a glimpse of it – it looked like lines and lines of some obscure code, scrolling down into oblivion. He turned quickly to look at me.
"Shhh!" he hissed angrily. I stepped back, holding up my hands apologetically.
"Sorry," I said. "I was only saying hi."
"Well, hi," he said irritably. He kept looking around, suddenly extremely nervous. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't approach me in public," he continued. "I'm trying to keep a low profile…"
"Then why are you in a public library, in full view?" I asked, annoyed. I walked off before he could reply. The next time I looked, he was gone.


"What, he just left?" Amelia asked. "Man, what a weirdo."
I shrugged. "I don't know what I did wrong."
Dark had fallen and we were driving back to Solitaria. The boot of the car was full of bags, including our clothes and photographic equipment for Amelia. I also had a list of books stowed safely in my pocket, which I would follow up as soon as I could. I'd told Amelia about my encounter with the reclusive Anthony, and she was just as confused by his reaction as I had been.
"If he doesn't want to be noticed, he shouldn't be out in public like that," Amelia went on, defending me.
"I know!"
"And I don't see why he should get so upset just because you said hi."
"Speed," I murmured, pointing to the speedometer. Amelia grumbled and slowed down a little.



"I hate speed limits," she complained. "They're unrealistic. And I don't see why I should be restricted to 90 k's on a wide road with no traffic." Amelia preferred to view speed limits as "guidelines, rather than actual rules". I had to say I agreed with her most of the time.
We continued towards home at speeds which generally hovered a little above the 90km/h limit. We chattered away about things that annoyed us, things we'd bought, things we'd like to buy, what we'd do tomorrow…
We finally swept into Solitaria, and Amelia dutifully slowed down. In fact, she slowed down enough that as we went past Lou's shop, I caught sight of something very surprising.
"Amelia!" I exclaimed, looking out the window.
"I'm doing the limit," she replied in annoyance.
"No—look!"
"I can't, I'm driving," she said. "What is it?"
We'd already passed the shop by that time, but I was able to describe it fairly clearly in words.
"Oh, just Lou and Victoria, having a good old pash," I replied.



Amelia's eyes bugged, but she kept control of the car despite her astonishment. "What!"
"Kissing," I repeated, beginning to smile. "On the verandah!"
"Lou and Victoria!" Amelia couldn't quite comprehend it.
"Yes!"
She shook her head. "What!"
I snorted. "Talk about an odd couple," I commented.
Amelia laughed. "Imagine what their children would look like!"
I thought for a moment. "I guess they'd be…vampire aliens!"
"And then, if they got bitten by the same wolf that bit Christopher…" Amelia's eyes widened.
I joined in. "They'd be…werewolf vampire aliens!"
"And," Amelia added, slapping the steering wheel, "if they were killed and brought back to life by that crazy mystic who resurrected Hannah…they'd be—"
"Zombie werewolf vampire aliens!" I said, nodding very seriously.
Amelia snorted. "That's ridiculous."
Our little world was just too crazy to comprehend sometimes.

----------------------------------------------------
AUSTRALIAN 101: P plates - provisional driver's licence. Once you've finished learning how to drive (L plates), and manage to pass the driving test, you are put on 'P plates' and given a Provisional Driver's Licence. The length of time spent on P plates varies according to state. In New South Wales it's generally a minimum of three years (first 'red' P plates, then 'green'...it's complicated and irrelevant). Basically, you're allowed to drive (independently), but with a whole bunch of draconian restrictions imposed upon you (for example, a maximum capped speed limit, a limit of the number of passengers in your car after 11pm, etc), and you also have to display 'P plates' on the front and back of your car.
Oh also, boot = trunk.

Soon, the news of Lou and Victoria's romance had spread through the town. In a place so small, no one really had any secrets – or if they did, they were some of the best-kept secrets in the world.
I asked Lou about it the following Saturday afternoon, when Amelia and I were having coffee in his store. "Lou!" I called.
He came over from behind the counter. "More coffee?" he asked.
"Nope, just questions," I replied. "How long has this little romance been going on, then?"
Lou grinned, a bit bashful, and sat down at our table. "About a month," he answered.



Amelia nearly choked on her cappuccino. "A month!" she cried, spluttering everywhere. "How come we never knew about it?"
"Well, since I've been working and Victoria's been sleeping during the daytime," Lou explained, "we could only meet up at night time. So we made sure we kept it as secret as possible, for as long as possible." He glanced at Amelia. "Do you need a serviette?"
"Huh?" she said, then looked down at her front. "Oh, crap," she muttered, noticing the droplets of coffee now decorating her T shirt, as a result of all the spluttering.
"Here," Lou offered, handing her a clean tissue from his pocket. Amelia started dabbing at the spillage.
"What did Edward and Sophie say?" I asked. I wasn't sure how they'd react to their daughter going out with an alien.
He shrugged. "They were fine with it," he said. He grinned mischievously. "And we were definitely fine with it."
"Well, that's a relief," I said.
"Hey, Ellie, is it all gone?" Amelia asked, still peering down at her front.
"Amelia, your T shirt is black," I said. "Even if it wasn't all gone, you wouldn't be able to notice, seriously."
She looked uncertain, and gave it another dab.
I rolled my eyes, and turned back to Lou, suddenly remembering something. "Hey, can you get some books in for me?"
"Sure," Lou said, holding out his hand for the list which he knew was coming. I fished around in my pocket and handed it to him.
He tut-tutted under his breath as he read. "More rubbish, Ellie?" he asked.
"Hey, don't knock it," I said. I knew he was only kidding. In all likelihood, he probably read most of the books before he sold them – mine included.
"Give it a week or two, and they'll be here," he replied, pocketing my list and getting up from the table. "Have a good day."
"You too, Lou," Amelia said, smiling at the rhyme.
She came back to my place afterwards, where we hung out in my room, chatting about everything and nothing. Sometimes we ran out of things to talk about, though. It often happened, since we spent so much of each day together. Whenever this occurred, we turned to the online world of MySpace.
I fired up my computer and brought up the login page. Amelia leaned over my shoulder, looking at the screen.
"What's your password?" she asked innocently.
"Wouldn't you like to know," I murmured, quickly typing it in and pressing 'Enter'. Soon, the familiar blue and white boxes filled the screen, with the words 'Hello, Ellie!' written above my own photo.



I scrolled quickly down, checking for any comments or messages. I could understand the appeal of MySpace (or Facebook, I guess), and how easy it was for people to become addicted. There was something deeply comforting and exciting about getting 'New Comments!' or 'New Messages!' – it affirmed your existence, and proved people wanted to communicate with you. It made you feel wanted.
"Message," Amelia intoned, stating the obvious. "And—ooh—friend request." She thought for a moment. "Probably some random band or porn star, you've already added everyone in town."
"Probably," I replied, clicking on the 'Message' icon. Anastasia wanted some more help with her biology prac.
"She's got some nerve," I grumbled. I still hadn't fully forgiven them for the store room prank.
"Don't reply," Amelia suggested. "There is nothing more annoying and insulting than not replying to a MySpace message."
"You know what?" I said, clicking 'Back'. "I don't think I will."
Instead, I clicked the 'Friend Request' icon, preparing to deny the band or 'sexy web cam girl' who dared to randomly add me in a desperate attempt to gain popularity.
I was very surprised by what I saw – and so was Amelia. It wasn't a band, a porn star, or even a totally random person who'd found me by mistake.
"Hannah got a MySpace?" I exclaimed in wonder. She'd been the only one of the youth of Solitaria to not have one, so we were both amazed.
"Wow," Amelia said as I clicked 'Accept'. "That's a big step."
"So there is something in there," I mused, then went to her profile.
She didn't have a flashy layout yet, or any photos, or even lists of favourite bands and descriptions about who she'd like to meet. There were only the bare bones of a MySpace, but I did notice one blog entry titled 'I wish'.
"Click on it," Amelia urged.
The blog entry came up on the screen – and it stunned both of us.

I wish…
Current Mood: Frustrated
Category: Life

There are so many things I wish for that no one even knows about. Because nobody thinks a fat, smelly, retarded, spastic zombie could have wishes at all. Everyone thinks I'm useless or worthless or just stupid.
But I'm not.
I wish people could know that I'm still normal. I'm still Hannah Reilly as she was before she was hit by the car. I'm still an ordinary fourteen-year-old girl who doesn't like school but loves hanging out with friends. I have crushes and dreams, I like music and TV, I have good days and bad days. (Although these days most days are bad days). My mind is perfectly lucid and in full working order. It's just that it's trapped in this broken body. Like I want to speak, and the words are perfectly formed in my head, but by the time they reach my mouth, only grunts and moans come out. I want to move, and my brain sends an order, but my body doesn't obey. I wish I could appear as normal as I really am, stuck inside my head.
I wish I could go back to how things were. I used to be fairly average: not pretty, but not ugly. Not stick-thin, but not fat. I had flaws and stuff, just like any other person, but I think most of the time the good outweighed the bad.
But then I didn't look as I stepped onto the road. And I paid the ultimate price.
I can say that I did get a glimpse of the afterlife. Or, rather, the afterlife that I had unwittingly chosen without fully realising it. It was terrifying: there was nothing there. Just darkness, and total isolation, and nothingness. Nothing but my thoughts on a continuous loop.
But I'll save that for another blog. My life-death-life isn't the point.
The point is, I wish people could know that I want so badly to reach out and talk to them. I want to tell my mum and dad that I still love them, despite what they did, bringing me back in this way. I want to have friends. I want people to know that I'm still here!
I wish I could tell them everything.

I turned to Amelia, in shock. She was still reading, but only a fraction slower than me. I saw her mouth the final line.
She just stood there, silent, for a moment. "Oh my God," she finally said.
I exhaled. "Yeah."



"That probably took her ages to type," Amelia said, shocked. I had a terrible mental image of poor Hannah, sitting slumped awkwardly in a computer chair, painstakingly tapping out her message. She must have been so desperate.
"I had no idea," I said slowly, shaking my head. "No idea."
"Me neither," Amelia agreed.
There was another moment of silence, while we both just stared at the screen, reading Hannah's desperate message to the world.
"What are we going to do about it?" Amelia said suddenly.
"Send a message?" I suggested.
"At least," Amelia agreed. "Tell her it's from both of us."
We replied – saying how we were sorry, how we never knew what she'd been through, how we'd be there for her if she needed us. Amelia volunteered to go over to her house if she ever wanted company, saying that Hannah 'only had to call, and she'd be there'.
Then I logged off, Amelia went home, and I eventually went to bed at the end of the day.

I've uploaded two chapters at once, because a) they were both pretty short, and b) both kind of 'meh', but still necessary to the overall plot.



Thank you! I'm not quite sure what you mean about the picture - could you be more specific? Or do you mean the one with 'GROUNDED' written across it? If so, yeah, it's meant to be that way.



Haha, thanks. "Piss-take", that's the phrase I was looking for but couldn't remember when I wrote the chapter! Dunno why. And no, I haven't seen/heard of what you linked me to, but I'll take a look at it!

Em90: nevermind, I could have sworn you had a photograph(not sim picture) mixed in there XD

Nice updates. Vampire Zombie werewolf aliens is indeed ridiculous XD

Stupid laptop troubles, I've missed three chapters! That grounded picture made me laugh so much! But poor Hannah! I can't wait to see that storyline develop!

On Sunday afternoon, I was calmly lying on my bed, reading, when there was a sudden, urgent knocking on my bedroom door.
"Yeah?" I called.
The door swung quickly open, revealing my Mum standing there, looking worried. "I've just got a call from the Desslers," she said. "Joanna's very sick, apparently. Unconscious, even." I gasped. "Anyway, they've called me over there, so that's where I've gone, if you're wondering."
"Can I come?" I asked.
Mum shrugged. "If you like, but make up your mind, because I have to go right now."
I put down the book and swung into action, following Mum out to the car. Although the Desslers lived within walking distance, I knew Mum would want to get there as quickly as she possibly could. Mum was the 'default' backup to Edward in a medical crisis, since she knew more about the workings of the human body than anyone else in the town (after Edward, of course). Edward couldn't come simply because it was daylight, and venturing outside his home would've been fatal.
"Do you know what's happened?" I asked while Mum drove.
She shook her head. "Not sure," she said. "But it's very worrying in someone so young." Joanna, the Dessler's young daughter, was only seven.
It didn't take long to reach the home of the mysterious Dessler family. Marie was waiting for us out the front, worry lines decorating her forehead and a crumpled tissue clutched in one hand. She looked up in relief as we arrived.
"She's in the lounge room," she told us, leading the way with unmistakeable haste.
"What's happened to her?" Mum asked as we walked.
"We're not entirely sure, but we think there was something in a muffin she ate."
"Do you have any more of the muffins?" Mum asked.
Marie nodded. "It was just the one, but she didn't quite eat all of it. She bought it fresh from Lou's, I think." By this time, we were inside the house, and Marie was leading us over to Joanna's unconscious form, spread out on the floor, surrounded by her father and brother.



Marie continued to explain. "When she was about halfway though, she said that it tasted funny, so she stopped. Then she started complaining of a headache, then a bad stomach ache, and then she started vomiting a few minutes before she collapsed."
Mum held Joanna's wrist in her hands, feeling her pulse. "Does she have any allergies?" she asked.
Marie shook her head. "None that we know of. We've had her tested before, too."
Mum's brow furrowed. "Look, I think the safest thing to do would be to get her over to Edward's as quickly as possible."
"Edward?" Marie repeated. "But he can't come out in daylight, can he?"
"He's not too bad if he stays inside his house," Mum said, standing up and taking out her mobile phone. "And he has a makeshift emergency room for occasions like this. I'll call him while you get her in the car and start driving."
Everyone seemed to go into action, leaving me feeling like an awkward fifth wheel. I wasn't sure if I had the right to intrude on what was obviously a major medical crisis for the family, but I knew it would be impolite to just leave. I watched as Marie, Anthony and Nathan gently carried Joanna to lie on the back seat of their car, before Marie and Nathan drove away.
Anthony watched them drive off, standing out the front, tears in his eyes and worry clouding his face.
I felt awkward, but still felt the need to comfort him in some way.
"She'll be fine," I said encouragingly.



He shook his head. "No, she won't," he said bleakly. "And it's all my fault."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is," he said, turning dead eyes to face me. "All my fault."
I realised there wasn't much more that could be said to someone whose mind was already firmly made up. Meanwhile, Mum had stopped talking and motioned for me to get back into the car again. I gave Anthony one last look of sympathy, then got back into the car.
"Poor Edward," Mum sighed as she drove us to the Guildenstern's mansion. "He'll be feeling very sick after this. Whenever he gets up during daytime…"
"What do you think happened?" I asked.
Mum shrugged. "Poison, perhaps? I don't know. I don't think it's an allergic reaction, because that would've brought on a different response. Also, if she was that badly allergic to something, her Mum would've known about it."
When we reached the Guildensterns, the Desslers were nowhere in sight. Presuming they'd already gone inside, Mum went to ring the doorbell.
"Come in!" called Edward from the other side.
I'd been over to the Guildenstern's place several times, but once again, the grandeur of the building really struck me. It was an enormous castle of a place, complete with elegant antique furniture and old, disused candlestick holders attached to the stone walls. It was rather dark, since there were only dark stained-glass windows in the walls, but the artificial lighting gave off sufficient light with which to see.
Mum led me into a small room towards the front of the house, where Edward was already examining Joanna, who was lying on the bed, still out. Marie was telling Edward everything she'd told my mum, and he listened patiently, nodding as he worked.



When he'd finished his examination, he frowned. "Do you still have the leftover muffin?"
"Right here," Marie volunteered, handing him the remains.
He sniffed it carefully and nodded. "Arsenic poisoning," he announced, putting the muffin in a plastic bag and quickly going over to some cabinets full of medical supplies. "She'll need to get to a hospital as soon as possible."
Marie inhaled sharply, looking horrified. "Poisoned? By who?"
Edward shook his head, still gathering medical equipment. "No idea. We'll have to tell Christopher, and there'll be a full police enquiry into the matter. Until then, I can try pumping her stomach, and then call for a chopper to come and pick her up pronto."
Marie blanched. "Pumping her stomach?"
"At this stage, I think this would be the safest course of action," Edward said. "At the hospital they'll be able to give her better treatment, but I don't have any dimercaprol here at the moment, so we'll just have to try and flush as much of the arsenic out of her as we can. Marie, do you know Joanna's blood type?"
Marie nodded. "A negative, we had some blood tests done a while back—"
Edward nodded briskly and addressed my mum. "Jamie, can you call the hospital and ask them to prepare for a paediatric case of acute arsenic poisoning, tell them to have some blood units of A negative on standby for transfusion, as well as dimercaprol and the rest…"
Edward kept rattling on in medical jargon for a minute. I decided to leave as soon as he started inserting a long tube into Joanna's stomach. I knew I wasn't needed and felt like a useless spectator, watching something I didn't really want to see anyway.

Mum went with them to the hospital, and later told me that Joanna was going to be OK.
"Apparently, it was just enough to make her very sick, but not kill her," Mum said. "Although I wonder if she would have survived if we hadn't acted quickly enough."
Of course, since it was obviously a deliberate criminal act of poisoning, a police investigation was underway, headed by Christopher. And of course, since it was a muffin from Lou's shop that had been the culprit, Lou was immediately looked upon as the prime suspect.



Later, he told me that he was extremely sorry that the accident had occurred, and that he was helping the police in every way he could. He did feel a little hurt that Christopher suspected him, though.
"I've only been the shopkeeper here without trouble for over twenty years," he sniffed.
Suspicion quickly fell on Adrianna and Lola as well, since they helped Lou run the shop. They, too, claimed to know nothing about the poisoned muffin, and said that they were in an Eridessa pub at the time the poisoning occurred – a fact that was confirmed by several witnesses.
The news of Joanna's near-death experience shocked our community. No kind of criminal activity had ever happened in all the years I'd been living there, except for one famous night when Lou's store was nearly robbed. The fact that some kind of malicious crime had occurred in sleepy Solitaria was stunning, and suddenly people began to distrust one another: was the killer one of us? And more importantly, would they strike again?

Heh, thanks, I'll take that ("I could've sworn you had a photograph in there") as a compliment


Don't worry, the chapters aren't going anywhere, they'll wait. Thank you!

I like this town. You're doing really well at keeping all these different personalities sorted out. I feel sorry for Hannah. And I'm enjoying the conflict between Julian and Ellie. Can't wait to find out what's going on with the Dresslers.

I'm wondering who that muffin was really intended for...! Adrianna and Lola still seem very suspicious. After all, they are the newcomers.