Soul Searching

"So, do you do any sports?"

Anastacia nods, "I'm a cheerleader."

"Oh," Constance smiles. "I can imagine, a pretty girl like you must drive all the boy athletes at school crazy."

The teenager shakes her head, "no, not really. I try to keep to myself."

"You don't wanna do that too much. If you do, you'll seperate yourself from the real world."

Anastacia nods.

"Happened to my son, actually," Constance slowly nods. "He was always a bit rebellious, but... it got worse as he detatched himself."

Anastacia nods slowly.

"It's a real shame you weren't around when my son was. Maybe you could've saved him."

"Do you mind me asking what happened to your son?"

Constance nods, "he's dead. Been dead probably longer than you've been alive."

"I'm so sorry."

The older woman takes a drag of her cigarette, "don't be. I'm sure he's happier now, wherever he is."



"You've got a lot of nerve," Tate growls, walking into the basement.

Hayden chuckles, rocking in the rocking chair. "Do I, now?"

"Why would you tell Stacie anything?"

The brunette shrugs, "I don't want you to hurt her."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't know if you've noticed this, Tate, but we're a little populated as it is."

He rolls his eyes, "you're so selfish."

"I've earned my right to be selfish, you asshole."

"The only thing you earned was a shovel to the back of your dense skull."

Hayden's eyes narrow as Tate smiles and backs out of the room.