Arkham

(Myca's Point of View)

It was in the middle of the night when Jon woke me up.

"We need to get dressed and leave."

"Why, whats going on?"

"Somebody was causing a disturbance at the loading docks. Falcone was bringing in our last shipment, now he's gone."

"What do you mean 'he's gone?'"

"He disappeared, vanished, missing."

"Who was causing a disturbance," I asked jumping out of bed and looking through my suitcase for clothes. I pick black skinny jeans and white tank top. I put my Docs on and Jon and I were out the door.

We ran all the way to the loading docks when on the way, we found something more disturbing. Police and reporters were crowding around a searchlight with a man strapped to it. As I kept staring at the man on the searchlight, I realize the man was Carmine Falcone.

"Falcone is on that searchlight."

"I noticed. How did that happen?"

"I don't know. But maybe we should leave."

"Falcone is going to Blackgate again, probably," Jon said as we were walking back. I spot a gas station with a snack store.

"Can I run in the gas station and get cigarettes?"

"Of course. Do you need money?"

"Nope. I just found seven dollars and eighty-one cents the pockets of these pants."

"How lucky."

"Mhm, I'll be right back, I swear." I run into the gas station store And went up to the counter and asked the cashier to give me a pack of Marlboro reds. He handed me the cigarettes, I handed him exact change and I ran out and Jon was waiting patiently.

"You were quick."

"Told you so," I said as Jon and I walked back to the apartment.

Once we got inside, I look for my lighter and head back outside to have a smoke. I sit on the stoop of the apartment building and light the tip of my cigarette. I inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. I stare out to the rest of the Narrows. I see buildings crumbling and there was a smell of dead animals and garbage in the air, polluting my nose, almost making me gag.

Inhale exhale I flick the ashes off the tip and stomped on them. Inhale exhale. Inhale exhale

(Jonathan's Point of View)

Ever since Myca brought 'Delilah' out of the closet, I started practicing the guitar again. I started to remember the notes that Mercy taught me. I started creating my own song because I couldn't think of one to play.

I hear Myca coming in quietly through the door.

"Are you awake?"

"Yea, I was just playing."

"What songs do you know?"

"I don't know any songs. I hardly ever listen to music."

"Well, it's a good things I brought my ipod. I know a song that you'll love. Want to hear?" I nod my head and she hands me the earphones. She scrolls and scrolls down the screen and pushed play when she found the song. It's called My Manic and I by Laura Marling. This should be interesting.

He wants to die in a lake in Geneva. The mountains can cover the shape of his nose. He wants to die where nobody can see him, but the beauty of his death will carry on so. I don't believe him.

He greets me with kisses when good days deceive him and sometimes with scorn and sometimes I believe him. And sometimes I'm convinced. My friends think I'm crazy. Get scared and call him, but he's usually hazy. At one in the morning, the day has not ended. By two he is scared that sleep is no friend and by four he will drink, but he cannot feel it. Sleep does not come because sleep does not will it. And I don't believe him! Morning is mocking me.

I wander the streets, avoiding them eats, until the ring on my finger slips to the ground. A gift to the gutter, a gift to the city. The veins have which have broken me down. And I don't believe him! Morning is mocking me.

Oh the Gods that he believes, never fail to amaze me. He believes in the love of his God of all things, but I find him wrapped up in all manner of sins. The drugs that deceive him and the girls that believe him. I can't control you, I don't know you well. These are the reasons I think that you're ill. I can't control you, I don't know you well. These are the reason I think that you're ill.

And the last time we parted, the last that I saw him, down by the river, silent and hardened. Morning was mocking us, blood hit the sky. I was just happy, my manic and I. He couldn't see me, the sun was in his eyes. And birds were singing to calm us down. And birds were singing to calm us down....

I pull the earphones out.

"Did you like it?"

"I did. It seems to fit perfectly, if you ask me." Myca then looked at me as if she offended me and she was saying sorry with her gaze.

"I'm not offended by any means." She then proceeded to smile.

"I liked it a lot."

"I can teach you how to play the song if you want."

"I'd like that."

(Myca's Point of View)

We practiced all through the night and a little in the morning. The whole thing that happened at the docks kind of rattled us a bit, so we couldn't sleep, at least until ten in the morning when Jon finally passed out.

I lay right next to him and wrapped my arms around his slim waist, pressed my face against his shoulder and shut my eyes, waiting for sleep to come, but it wouldn't. I open my eyes again and I just lay there and think. What is the fear toxin for? Why were there so many shipments? What was Jon and Falcone planning to do?

I didn't want to ask Jon because I didn't want to pry into his business. But then again, he told me that he was planning something already and he told me about Scarecrow and his fear toxin.

Morning was mocking us, blood hit the sky. I was just happy, my manic and I.