Dedicated to Finest_Wine A brilliant writer, a loyal friend, with rib-cracking comments.

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"Did you notice that girl?" Jake chuckled forcefully as he drove. "The one with the yellow tank top and crazy hair."

On the backseat, with drunk Melanie lying down and using his laps for a pillow, Paul sighed. "I do not know what a tank top is." He announced with a disinterested tone. In his heart he boiled with rage, and Jake should know because he shot glares at him through the rearview mirror.

"Tank top, you know? The - the, ne'er mind." He chuckled in attempt to force Paul to laugh along, to loosen up a little, before he continued, "You should have seen her dance moves. It was the stupidest thing ever. She was throwing hands everywhere like a berserk windmill." He laughed. "Like a drowning monkey . . . like a, like uh - like she was in a horror movie and was getting dragged into a blind hole by the undead from underworld."

That was a good one. Paul thought and almost let a smile creep onto his lips. Jake was laughing and was watching to see if he had him on that one, but he kept on a recalcitrant frown and with it, promising Jake a good scolding for when the time comes. How dare he take advantage of Melanie in her vulnerable moment? How dare he put those filthy hands on her? Paul pondered.

Jake swallowed, and his heart beat in anxiety, for he thought, worriedly, about how bad this single thing could get, especially when Melanie's mother sees her precious daughter in this state.

The rest of the drive was uncomfortably quiet, except for the incessant squirming and sounds Melanie made in her slumber. Sometimes she snorted for no reason, sometimes she sighed satisfactorily, and other times she moaned sensually, and it was that one that made the atmosphere in Jake's Cadillac most uncomfortable. They imagined that her mind must be lost temporarily, to the ethereal.

-

The moment just before he knocked at the door of Melanie's apartment was the scariest for Jake. Paul had supported Melanie, holding her weight by hanging her arm around his neck and hold her body, by the waist firmly against his. So, Jake had to do the knocking and his palms sweat and his fist quaked.

The knock was the softest and faintest Paul had ever witnessed so he shook his head, reached out and did the knocking.

Verena opened to them.

"What the hell?" She yelled when she noticed her daughter unable to stand upright by herself. She stood by the door, holding it open as Paul moved in with Melanie. Her legs wobbled under her.

"Good evening ma'am." Paul greeted, and Jake followed.

Without responding to the greeting, Verena's brows furrowed and she looked very enraged. "What is this?" She yelled as Paul struggled to the sofa and finally dropped Melanie softly, to lie on it. Her neck angled uncomfortably, and she seemed lifeless as Paul managed to fit a pillow under her head. "What the hell did you do to my daughter?" She yelled again and Jake flinched.

Paul turned to Jake and stared perturbingly at him, while he looked innocent and Verena's threatening glare, in turns, darted in both their directions. Jake coward at it, because he knew he was about to be crucified, and he was not wrong, as Verena's impatience grew.

"I'm going to call the police, if no one starts talking in three seconds." She threatened finally.

Paul's voice came mellow from where he stood over Melanie. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I left them for a minute. When I returned the next, I saw her like this. I have no idea what happened."

Jake stared at Paul with widened befuddled eyes; a minute? Really? You left for only a minute? He felt betrayed.

In two strides, Verena reached Jake, yanked him by his shirt staring into him with crazy eyes. "Tell me what you did to my daughter? And so help me God, if you had put something in her drink, it will be me the police will be looking for by the time I'm done dealing with you."

Paul squinted and had to admit that that was scary.

Verena's bark was like that of a mad bulldog. She inspired fear and spat rage in form of tiny droplets of saliva that dropped on Jake's face. "I - I didn't put anything in her drink." Jake managed to say, with eyes shut and recoiled.

"Sh - She," Junior stuttered. "She's dead?"

It was at this time that Verena's consuming rage was halted and she spun towards Junior who had walked in on her being feral and yelling. He was almost naked, wearing nothing but underpants of several colors. On the front parts of his body and hands were smeared with some sort of paste, creamy in color and unevenly smudged, but most disturbingly, in his eyes were terror, the undeniable distinguishable fear of mortal doom. He had walked in on a scene where, 'The Police' was mentioned, and his mother was yelling like never before, while Melanie, his beloved big sister, stayed lifeless after he had poked her face thrice like he did with Jumbo, his pet bunny and it had died.

Verena shoved Jake away and rushed to Junior. "No - No, Baby." She said soothingly as she grabbed and carried him. "She's not dead. She's only taking a nap."

He whimpered. "But she won't wake."

Verena wiped his tears. "It's okay hon'. She will wake in the morning. She only took a sleep pill, I promise."

Jake cut in defensively, "She didn't actually take any pi..."

"Shut up, Jake! You have done enough harm as it is." She glared at him and Jake recoiled. He saw, through her eyes, that she had crucified him; burdened him with the blame of sins of the world and condemned him. It was okay, he was used to it.

Verena breathed heavily, and she appeared to breath fire like a dragon. "You need to let yourself out, and never in." She proclaimed, before she sniffed Junior's body. "Jeez! What's that?" With a sneer, she asked about the paste on Junior's body.

Junior shrugged and answered, "I don't know. I found it in your closet." before he chuckled.

"My draw- . . . Oh my God!" Verena exclaimed and rushed out of the living room.

Jake stood awkward for a second, then he turned to Paul, shrugged with a goofy face and giggled lightly, hoping to engage Paul in a chorus of uplifting laughter, but instead Paul just stood there, hands folded, stone faced, and glaring. Jake felt stupid and wondered what he was thinking.

Paul shook his head, with an expression of 'I'm really disappointed in you.'

"What did I do wrong?" Jake asked, and his voice grew louder.

"How dare you, Jake?" Paul yelled.

"How dare I? What did I do?"

"You know what? Let's not get into this right now. We are in someone else's house."

"No, you gotta talk to me. I gotta know what I did, that was so bad."

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but on second thought, he shut himself up, walked away and sat on a tall stool by the dining area.

Jake still stood confused, wondering why Paul was acting this way, when Verena walked in again, and this time without Junior. She was quite furious and definitely had some things to say, but she was interrupted when Melanie mumbled some words none of them understood. Verena stood over her and listened, but could not get anything out of her gibberish words.

"She needs to be carried to bed, and changed." Verena said out loud, more to herself than to anyone else.

Jake walked closer. "I will help." He motioned to do as he said, but withdrew with shock as Verena shot him a look. "I don't understand, why exactly are you still here?"

"I should explain myself." Jake demanded.

Verena shook his head. "No need."

"I will help." Paul strode to her.

Jake stood aside, feeling like a pariah, rejected and hated, when Paul bent over and with a breath, lifted Melanie effortlessly on his arms. He followed Verena, who led the way to Melanie's room, holding the doors that were in their way.

When they got to Melanie's room, Verena cleared her pile of clothes and kitbag off the bed with one arm sweep. Paul laid her down gingerly on the bed, and that was when he noticed her eyes were open, and again, he noticed that smile on her. One he had noticed only once on her on the first day they met. That mysterious smile; it came, not only from her lips but also her eyes and makes him feel adored, but it remained mysterious, because he could not figure out the reason for the smile or its prompts.

"Thanks." She said, with those dreamy eyes.

Paul nodded and was going to step back to allow Verena the space to care for her daughter, when Melanie grabbed his right wrist and pulled him back.

"Wait. There is something I need to tell you." She said, still smiling.

Paul drew closer and bent slightly to hear her. "What?"

"There is a way I feel." She started. "I have these feelings deep down inside of me, like really really deep in my guts. It's rumbling and stirring, and makes me want to let it all out."

Paul considered it. "Yes that happens. You just need to rest and perhaps take some drugs, I think."

Melanie's eyes squinted and considered him, before she let out some hysterical laughter that shocked Paul. She looked crazy in her drunk laughter and admissibly scary, but Paul only worried about her.

"You're so cute when you're being silly." Melanie told him and pulled back his attention. "I'm talking about my feelings, dummy."

"Feelings?" Paul asked, bewildered.

"Yes." Melanie continued. "There is just a way I feel about you." She said dreamily and Verena paid attention, feeling hopeful. "I don't know, I feel its it's time you know that..."

Paul had drawn much closer in other to hear Melanie's faint voice clearly, and he was really curious, but then Melanie trailed off, and the next thing he heard was a sound similar to that of a flushing pipe. Melanie belched first and immediately followed it up with intense vomiting.

"Oh my God!" Verena cried incredulously and recoiled, and Paul stood shocked since Melanie held tight unto him and washed him with alcohol infested vomit.