I Know You Are More Than Perfect

[Anal] Erin's P.O.V.

"Hey, Hersh."

"Hello. I can't believe Katy. . ."

"What?"

"Every day, we walk by here to go to town or something, or for school, and I never fail to stop and wait for Katy to come running out with her father screaming after her to get her ass back inside."

I kicked a pebble and watched it bounce down the sidewalk. "Same here. I'm still not used to her being gone, even after all this time."

"Remember the time were all gonna go see the free showing of Tim Burton's movies, and Katy's dad said no, so we planned for her to sneak out through her window?"

"But she ended up jumping off her roof, and she fractured her ankle and knee? Despite her hobbling, she still went the cinema."

"Man, her parents were so damn pissed."

"Good times. Oh, what about when the twins were the foreign exchange students? She didn't want them here, in her house, or even in the same school as her."

"Yet they ended up saving her life on more than one occasion."

We both sat on the front porch of the Michaels's old home - now vacant - and stared at our feet. The warm breeze rustled the leaves already on the ground; the planter beside me fell over, due to having nothing inside of it to weight it down. A folded up piece of paper was beneath it; I picked it up, and Hershey glanced over.

"What's that?"

"A note, apparently."

"Well, read it, dumbass."

Anal & Hershey-
Hey, you two. If you're reading this, I'm "dead" by the hands of my father. And knowing you two, you won't have come back by my house - actually stopped to sit on the porch, I mean, like we did as kids when my mother would give us ice cream or lemonade - for a LOOOOOONG time. But now you have stopped to sit, and thankfully, nature's worked in my favour - or else, how would you have gotten this note?!?! ANYWAY!! Go to my old room. In the closet, there's a hidden panel in the back wall. Pull it out. There's a bag inside. One of you, take it home with you. Anal, I know you're dead-set against them, but make a MySpace with the name "Anal & Hershey".

Well, I'd better go. Time for action.

Love, Katy

"What the. . ."

Hershey grinned. "I think this means something big. Let's go."

The note was right: The discreet cubby in Katy's closet did indeed have a bag with a pair of clean - or as clean as they could be after fifteen months - jeans and a tank-top. There was another note, shorter this time. Remember you two ---- MYSPACE!!!! Things'll make sense after you do that, I swear. ♥

Two hours later, Hershey and I hid in a corner of the public library, creating an account on MySpace.

"I don't get why she wanted you to make the account," Erin grumbled.

"Because my parents won't think it's fishy - nor will the librarians - if I'm here daily. Your parents will find it suspicious if you're even in the library in the first place, then find out you have a MySpace. Then it's off with your head."

She paused. "True. Maybe she thought this through. But did the note say anything about telling Tom about this?"

"Um. . .let's not get his hopes up, okay?"

"Right-o, you are, dear chap."

She eventually left, claiming she could feel her "cool" levels going down. I remained in front of the computer; one window was left open on MySpace, and I used another to search Google for Katy's obituary.

Katelyn L. Michaels, 17
Katy Louise Michaels was born on Friday 15 June, 1990, and died Tuesday, May 29, at her home at 10:32 p.m.

She was interested in music, sports, and reading. She spent most of her time with friends, and she was very loyal to those she cared about. She enjoyed making people laugh.

Surviving are her parents, Jerrod and Camille, along with grandparents, Jay and Ethel Michaels, and Roger and Donna Draken; aunts, Racheal, Carla, and Joanne; and uncle, Roger Draken, Jr.

"Something's fishy," I muttered before signing out of MySpace and rising to my feet.