Won't Turn Out Right

I was alone. I don't remember how I got all alone, but there I was. Alone.

It was rather quiet, more so than usual, except for a soft ringing in my ears, but I didn't let it bother me.

I was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, playing with the holes in my jeans. It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt.

I wasn't dreaming. That much, I was sure of.

...I think.

I hummed a simple tune to take my mind off of the painful silence. I swallowed once or twice, shifting my jaw around to try and equalize the pressure I felt in my temples. It didn't really help, so I stopped, picking my light humming back up.

The door started to creek behind me, but it was faint and far-off. A different world completely.

Or... I mean.

I didn't bother to look because there were only five possibilities. One, I'm screwed. Two, I'm fucked. And Z, I'm going to die. I didn't care.

There were hands on my shoulders, moving soothingly across my neck and back. I closed my eyes, ceasing my humming.

"What do you want?" I expected to hear Matt's voice.

"Oh, Charity, you're so disappointing." I frowned, my breath catching in my throat.

"What?" A woman's voice answered mine.

"Darling dear, how could you let them do it?" Her hands squeezed my shoulders tightly. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to see her face. Her sad, betrayed, dead face.

"I... Mom... I couldn't... There was no way I could have-" I cut off when her flesh briefly passed over mine as she tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Mom, your hands. They're..." I turned around, choking on a sob as tears sprung to my eyes. Her face was decaying- a pale green and purple color. Her lips were chewed up and dry- a pale, chapped pink. Her bright blues eyes stood out the most, contrasting with the once white, now red, of her eyes. Her curly, red hair was split and dry, sticking out in many directions.

"You could have, but you didn't. Why? You let them get me, Charity. You let them get me. You killed me, Charity." She took her hands away from me, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a silver knife with a black handle. It was a small cutting knife from our kitchen. She placed it in my hands, bringing my fingers to curl around it. Her fingers were thin and cold. They were a darker purple color, rotting and dying. "Take responsibility for your actions, darling dear."

I glanced at the knife.

"Responsibility?" She nodded. "Take responsibility." I whispered, suddenly aware, once more of the ringing in my ears. "I... responsibility."

"Charity?" I looked up at the sound of a man's voice. I glanced around me quickly. Suddenly, the knife and my mother was gone, and I was alone again in the room.

"Mom? Mom, are you there?"

"Charity. What are you doing?" I blinked, the ringing getting louder and louder. I breathed a little heavier as my heart started to beat faster. I swallowed a couple more times, getting frustrated.

"What's... what's happening? Someone...." My breathing got heavier and heavier. I closed my eyes tightly and put my hands up to my ears, trying to stop the noise. "Help."

"Charity?" I felt his hand on my cheek, and suddenly the ringing was gone. I opened my eyes. Zacky was sitting in front of me.

Everything hurt.

I was in the middle of the room, my legs bent and twisted. Behind me was a trail of blood, leading from the bed to my resting place. I was sprawled across the carpet, Zacky holding my head in his hands. I looked behind him and Jimmy and Matt were staring with expressionless faces.

"Charity?"

"I- I... my mom. Where's my mom? She was just-" I cut myself off, realizing that I wasn't making sense. "Mom's dead. She was here- she-" His green eyes scared me, they were so calm and sane. "Zacky, my mom is dead but she was here. Why am I here? What happened?" He looked back at Matt and Jimmy. It was Jimmy who spoke up.

"You just got out of the bed and dragged yourself there. You were just staring and blinking and humming and mumbling. I went and got Shadows. You didn't hear us. You were gone but not really. Where did you go, Charity?"

"I... didn't go anywhere."

-*-

Brian had found them.

He had tried to get a hold of Johnny but he wasn't picking up his phone. He'd been following Matt Barry for the past hour, waiting for back-up, trying to see where he would go. He fought with himself over calling Shadows or going in by himself.

Apprehend Matt right now and bring him in for interrogation?

Wait for Johnny for God knows how long and bring him and possibly Jason and bring both of them in for interrogation?

Or, call Shadows and ask for more help?

He gave it some thought.

He tried Johnny's phone one last time, keeping his eye on the rearview mirror, Matt's form reflecting crystal clear. He was sitting at a bus stop, his eyes closed, resting his head against the Plexiglas. After a couple rings, it went to Johnny's voicemail. He shut his phone swiftly. He took his keys out of the ignition, got out of the car and headed towards the bus stop.