Smiling Oak's Academy for the Insane.

We drove to a land of nothingness, to a land of mc-mansions.
We pulled up to one, where it was about three stories high, two suburban houses wide and the walls were practically made of windows.

"We have to be slick." Innocence said. "But y'all know that."

{Harlequin's point of view.}

Charlie's mc-mansion.

Charlie was my mom's boyfriend, on and off since I was nine. My mom liked his money. Charlie liked her pants. They constantly used each other, and at one point, all they could do was fight.

My mom stopped paying attention to her kids; that's when Danny got into puzzles, Levi got into boys, Chuck got into smoking anything (and went to rehab a few times before eighteen) and I got into sleeping with businessmen, stealing their money and burying them.

It was prostitution; only I never felt as though it was demeaning. I felt as though it was for a cause. It was a thrill. Sometimes, I'd strangle a man while he was still inside of me, and it wasn't because he'd ask me to do so.

But it didn't work. I got put into prison, as a serial killer, and my mom didn't notice. They considered I'd go on death row, and she didn't ask. It was on national news...

Danny picked up the phone when I called home, telling him that I'd never see them again.

But my luck began to change.

I began to sleep with women in the prison, and help them escape, out of state, to Mexico, without a trace. And after many court dates, they decided that I was mentally ill, and I didn't need to be executed. They sent me to "Smiling Oaks".

But my mom still didn't notice. Not until Danny forgot to get the mail one day when my mom stayed home, and she got the bill.

Then she began to treat me like a leaper. She didn't want to see me. She disowned me, mentally and physically. Although Chuck, Levi and Danny laughed at me and teased me when they visited me in the institute, at least they cared enough about me to come twice a month.

...Chuck and I slipped out of the car.

"Your mother just left." Charlie said, as we sat in his spacious, over-sized, echo-ing living room, on white leather sofas. Everything was white. the walls, the tables, the staircase, everything in the room. Even the curtains. "You're not even supposed to be out of Philip Pine's. Why do you need to talk to her?"

"Why do I need to talk to her?" I retorted. "She's my mom." I said, more calmly than I felt.

"Not really. Not anymore, Quinn." He said, arrogantly. And more arrogantly than he looked. In a white knit sweater and ironed slacks, as if he had a job. He got all his money from his parents, blackmail and suing folks for reasons un-called for. He hadn't worked a day in his life.

"Genetically, she's my mom, and you're not my dad." I snapped.

"Listen, Chuck, you sleaze bag, you poor excuse for a man, or human" my brother pointed his finger at Charlie as he sat on the edge of his seat, "you don't own our mom."

"I may as well. She always crawls to me for money. Just like you once did, eh, Cuckster?" He took a puff of his cigar and smiled an evil smile, with his five o'clock shadow and yellow-blond hair.

Chuck grounded his teeth, and stood up. "YOU MOLESTED ME!"

"What are you, now, nineteen? Tell me, what do you tell the ladies?"

"CHARLIE, YOU'LL PAY!" Chuck pulled out his hand gun.

"Will it take away the pain, Charles? Will it take away the past?"

Chuck started sobbing as he put two bullets in between Charlie's eyes.

then I caught Charlie in the neck with my bat, knocking his head to the other side of his shoulders, behind his back.

The crew ran into the house. Richard cut off Charlie's head, and right after, Innocence grabbed the sterling silver necklace that used to hang around his neck before I busted it. Lydia raided his fireproof safe that he'd been "hiding" in his bookcase, and Basher began to set the curtains on fire.

As we left the mc-mansion, Basher threw a balloon filled with gasoline into the opened window, expanding the fire inside of the house.

"You know," Chuck said, as we were driving away in the car, "I always thought about killing Charlie if I'd had the chance. I never thought I would."

"Well," I said, "don't go around telling your friends about it."

Innocence turned around to us. "Here's a little souvenir." She dropped two bloody silver bullets into my hand.