Miss Mayhem

I finally was able to fall asleep, and Lauren somehow managed to shift me from the kitchen table to the living room couch. I slept for a good while, several hours, actually, causing me to be late for school. When I opened my eyes, it wasn't until I smelled something cooking that I realized that it was light outside, a lot lighter than it was when I was supposed to head out for school. Bounding to my feet, I was about to run upstairs when I heard Lauren singing a series of 'nuh-uh's. Sighing, I dragged myself into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.

"You barely slept at all last night. Do you seriously think that I'm gonna let you go to school like that?"

Seth, who was sitting at the table, set his book down just long enough to make a comment, grinning. "She's not that crazy."

Lauren whipped around, looking quite ready to toss an omelet in his face. If the man didn't race to throw his arms around her, hugging her as she giggled, she might have. "You jerk, sit back down."

"Nope, I'm in a good bit of danger if I do that."

"In danger of an omelet?"

"In danger of your good arm throwing that omelet."

Lauren smirked. "Smart boy." She bumped him with her hip, and when he tried to brush the hair out of her eyes, she bit his thumb lightly. He yelped girlishly, though it was quite exaggerated, and she seemed satisfied.

I cleared my throat, and they pulled away from each other as if suddenly recalling my presence. I smiled. "So, if I don't go to school today, can I at least take a look at the town?"

Seth rose a brow. "Not school, but the town?"

"Are you sure you slept enough to be out and about?" Lauren chimed in.

I shrugged. "I won't be long, promise."

"First of all, you are eating breakfast with us. Secondly, you are going to dress properly before heading out, yes? Yes. Thirdly, you are to be back by two o clock." The word spilled from Lauren's lips one after the other in perfect synchronization, as if it were a speech previously practiced. Seth, I observed, decided to sit back down and stay out of the conversation, deciding that it was a choice for his wife to make.

"Yeah," I said, "fair enough."

And so, as I agreed, I sat down with them for breakfast. It was a delicious meal of cheese-stuffed omelets, bacon, and toast. Kind of a typical morning meal, but I wasn't going to complain. I took my time eating, watching silently as the couple talked back and forth. One minute, they'd be talking about the sports game coming up that night, the next, they'd be arguing over something petty like whether or not they should get a puppy. Seth made childish excuses, claiming that he feared that she'd love the puppy more than her own husband.

Breakfast passed, and Seth announced dramatically that he simply wouldn't let me do the dishes. No, he said, he would let me do it when he cooked dinner the same night, where there would be dishes aplenty. With the way he beamed, I wasn't sure if he was kidding or not, so I just agreed and got dressed.

Molly Marie was in my bedroom waiting, and I gave her a quick hug as I began to change out of yesterday's outfit. She was unnaturally quiet, and assured me that she was alright. Our usual easy conversation was tense, more small talk than anything else. I dressed in black pants, a purple turtleneck, and converse, noticing how simply my wardrobe became over the years. It was such a rare thing for me to dress up, but then again, such a occasion hardly ever came.

Much to my surprise, Molly asked if she could stay behind. This was so weird, she was usually always at my side. I hesitated, and finally agreed when she said that she'd come straightaway if need be. And then I left, with barely a goodbye to Lauren and Seth before walking out the door. It was awfully windy outside, so I hugged myself as I walked down the sidewalk, glancing behind me with the feeling that I was being followed. It was probably Molly, who came anyway, just to make sure I would be alright on my own.

I made it to my predetermined destination, having figured out that I wanted to visit the place the first time I set eyes on it. The graveyard. There was something about it that was like a magnet, pulling me inside, begging to be noticed. Something cried out for my attention, and who was I to ignore it? Though... something else was screaming at me, pleading that I go someplace else, anyplace else. I laughed at myself, brushing what must have been my own thoughts aside.

It was as if the yard was always covered in fog, although that was something I determined not to think about as I began walking among the graves and headstones, glancing at names and dates as I passed. One in particular caught my eye, and for a split second, I tried to forget about it, but curiosity poked me each time I thought about it. Finally, I turned on my heel and jogged back to the headstone, one of the smaller ones, and knelt in front of it. I gasped when I focused on the name.

NATHANIEL AARON DANIELS.

Below that was the date, although it was worn away with age and ruin. Slowly, as if I were made of machinery, I cocked my head to the side, just so to see the name on the next headstone to my right.

CHRISTIAN JACK DANIELS.