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At the Edge of it All (Part 2) |
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At the Edge of it All (Part 2)
Fiction
 Created on 3-25-07
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 Story Rating G
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At the Edge of it All (Part 2)
“So, today I want you to skip work, I want you to come with me, I have some more stuff I want to show you.” Macy says to me leaning over the table and speaking very directly. “You are going to come with me.’
I put down my fork and bring up my napkin to wipe my face. Nancy puts the bill on the table and I leave my ten dollars there for her.
“You need an extra day off, just come on, you’ll have fun, I promise.” Promises are almost never kept, and just used to make some one do something for you.
“Yeah….okay,” I say “sure, why not.” Macy gives a big smile and hugs me from across the table, when she lets go she gets up and we both walk off to the door.
In the cab I lean over and ask Macy what we are going to do, and she replies with, “I thought we might go some more of my house’s, I’ll show you the real high class stuff. The stuff most people only dream of.” The cab coast through the city, I watch as the people, and other cars and buildings go by.
We stop at the base of a large skyscraper, outs side on a large plaque In giant bronze and gold letters the words ‘Cunningham Suites’ the below that in smaller letters it says ‘comfort and luxury in one great place’, I look up towards the top of the building.
“So, which floor are we going to?” we walk past me and past the doorman, who gives up a sort of disgusted look as we walk by. Macy walks up to the desk clerk, who is sitting behind is marble top half an oval desk that cuts him off from the shoulders down, with a phone in one hand and a pen in the other.
“May I help you?” He says half cocky, half over paid, all arrogant. Macy drums her two hands on the counter and then stops.
“Yeah,” she says “we need the key to Mrs. Norbert suite, we are here to clean her hot tub for the day.” The desk clerk looks down on a piece behind his desk, you can see him put down the pen in his right hand and hear him start to flip pages.
“Are you a one, Macy Williams? And if you are I will some identification to verify it.” the desk clerk looks at us as if he thinks Macy is lying, and who wouldn’t think so, her and I don’t exactly fit into the wealthy class of society, with our jeans t-shirts and over coats. Macy puts a little rectangle of thin plastic on the marble desk top. The clerk reaches forward and garbs it with his free boney fingers; he looks at it, then at her. “Well, okay then, let me grab you the key.” He swings his little chair around so that his back is facing us, he opens a little box marked two hundred and forty three.
“They usually leave one set of keys here, most of the time I have to return them at the end of the day, but some people like the other day, they let me keep the keys until the fire me or hire a new person.” Macy says to me.
“Here you are, please return the key when you’re done, and have a nice day.” The desk clerk hands us the key and we both head off towards the elevator with it’s golden brass look, the same the big letters out on the front of the building.
“This is high class living, way beyond what that other guy has.” She walks into the apartment suite, it’s big enough to be a house, this room is probably a whole floor for all I know. We walk into the big living room, Macy heads to the bar in the right corner. “Would you like anything?” she asks, and as usual I say.
“No thanks.” I look around the room then turn to her.
“This is one thing though; you can’t just take a lot of.” I can hear her pour some liquid into a cup. “Alcohol, is of the largest consumed products by rich people.” She walks over from around the back of the bar and passes me. “This way to the pool.”
We walk out of the living room and down a hall way, along the way I try to count all the doors I see, but there is just to many, just too many rooms to count, why any body would need this many rooms is beyond me.
“Most people just have hot tubs, but every now and again I get some one who has a pool, it usually helps me pick out who has the best stuff, because a pool inside a building like this would cost a lot of money, and a person with a lot of money always have the fanciest gadgets, right?”
“I guess so.” We turn left and Macy opens a door which leads into a half lit room, the smell of chlorine pours over us with the heat of the room as we walk inside. In front of me is a pool, stretching about twenty third yards ahead, and in the corner of the pool at the far end is a hot tub, I turn to Macy and ask “I thought you said this lady would only have a pool?”
“Nobody just has a pool, and even if they do, they don’t use it, the pool is just there for looks, it’s all about the hot tub, that’s where everything happens, here,” she walks off around the square corner of the pool and towards the hot tub “I’ll show you.” We walk over to the hot tub, Macy looks in it and points. “See that.” I look through the water of the hot tub to the bottom where a small pile of human breeding fluid rests. “You’ll never find anything like that in a pool.” She hands me her drink and grabs the pool net off the wall. “I should really be cleaning the whole thing out, so it’s sanitary, but what’s the use, it’s just going to get messed up at night again any way.”
There’s the same kind of theory with making your bed, why do it if you’re just going to mess up your sheets at night again.
“Here, lets go, I’d like to show you what kind of things these rich people have.” She opens a door and throws the net inside of it, then walks away towards the door. We walk along the hall way some more, passing doors, and more doors, and more doors all the same color and shape, a repeat of a repeat of a repeat. We stop in front of one that Macy opens for me to see in. there’s nothing inside of this room, its bland, no paint on the walls nothing, except an elliptical machine in the middle.
“There’s nothing in here.” I say, Macy looks at me with an eye brow raised.
“Why don’t you go check in that closet over there.” She motions her head towards a mirror door across the room. I look at it, seeing myself with her drink in my hand, and her just standing there, staring. I hand her her drink walk off across the room, watching myself get bigger as I walk towards the mirror.
I open up the door and all I can see is pitch black.
“The light is on the left, just right on the inside of the door.” Macy says from across the room. I flick on the light and look head on into a larger then life walk in closet. The walls are lined with whips and chains, rubber fists, leather clothes, masks, bottomless chaps, half melted candles; it was like walking into a Sadomasochist Shop.
“Weird isn’t it, whips and chains, pain for pleasure. You’d be surprised at how many sexual gadgets a person can fit into a living space, and you’d be even more surprised at why they have them, with how much ass each of these people gets, they have almost no use for this high end latex shit.”
I close turn off the light and close the door, turning around Macy says to me. “Come on, I’d like you to meet my brother.” We walk off down the hallway, to the front door.
Fifty four
Fifty three
She couldn’t be it, it had to have been her brother. That’s it her brother, he’s the one that drove me to do this, with all that had happened with him.
Fifty two
He’s the one who got me killed, who is going to get me killed.
Fifty one
I squeeze my eyes tighter then I have been all along, so much it almost hurts. I look back into the last few days of these weeks, when I realized a lot of things I didn’t want to realize, to when I saw some stuff I never thought I see, when I did things I thought I’d never do, when I got thrown out of my loop even farther.
Fifty
“That’s him, right there, probably asleep, past out from all the drugs he does.” Macy points to a guy on the couch. He has dark circles under his eyes and drool slowly drips from his mouth. She walks over to him, garbing a glass of the coffee table in front of him, throwing at him he jumps awake.
“What the fuck!” He screams as he jumps up, he rubs his face, trying to get the water off.
“Sorry, he’s a bit foul mouthed, I hope you don’t mind.” Macy’s brother turns to me, and then turns back to Macy.
“Who the shit is this?” he says pointing to me. Macy looks at me.
“My boyfriend.”
Boyfriend, boyfriend! I’m a boyfriend to this nut, I’m not her boy friend, we’re not dating, I don’t like her, why the hell does she think I’m her boyfriend.
I am screaming on the inside.
Why the hell would she want me to be her boyfriend any way, I hate her. I hate her, she’s pretty, and happy, and great and I hate her.
“Oh, so you two are screwing then?” Macy’s brother asks.
“No you moron, we are dating that’s all.” Macys replies.
“Oh, so you just haven’t given it up yet.” Her brother chuckles and Macy hits him in the head with and open palm.
“You say stuff like that I’m going to stop bringing you all those god damn drugs, they’re causing your mind to rot you know that?” he stops immediately and then shoots a hand in my direction.
“The names Manny, her brother you probably guessed. I am dead end out of the job drug addict, nice to meet you.” At least he is telling the truth, at least he can admit to his problems. I shake his hand and he smiles at me then turns to Macy. “So, did you get anything good?” Macy pulls out a bottle and hands it to him.
“This should last you another week.” Macy says. Then she stands up and grabs my hand, pulling me away. “Here, I want to show you something.” Macy and I head down a small hall way and go into the second door. The room isn’t too big, sunlight shoots through the curtains lighting the room, the bed in the middle has sheets thrown all over the place.
There’s a theory, if something is going to get messed up, why fix it.
She throws her purse on the dresser to my right as she walks to the bed, and I just stand there.
“Come on,” she says as she sits on the bed, “I’m not going to bite.” I walk over and sit on the bed next to her. She just stares at me with her big bright horribly wonderful blue eyes. She puts her hand on my thigh as she leans in close and I close my eyes and feel her lips press against mine. I’m in pure hellish nirvana, the greatest horrible pleasure in my life, we kiss some more, and behind my closed eyes I can feel the world tilt and the soft mattress at the side of my head.
I feel her hand come up the side of my body and I take mine and do the same to her. This is going to be the most horrible wonderful feeling in the world.
I open my eyes; out side of the bedroom door I can hear bangs, booms, and screams, all to an original sound track. I can feel Macy’s breast move up and down as she breaths.
What did I do? I thought.
I remember the gasps and moans. I remember the touching, the feeling, and a delightful sick feeling in my stomach. Macy makes a grunt as she turns over; I slide my hand out from under her and sit up on the edge of the bed. Looking around I try to pick out my underwear from scattered all around the place.
I find them and look out the window as I slide them along my legs and ever my crotch, from behind me I a yawn and I turn around to see Macy waking up.
“Good morning.” She says with a smile on her face.
“Afternoon.” I reply pulling my pants on.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” She says sitting up in bed, not bothering to cover herself. I turn back to her with my shirt in hand.
“Why do you care? I have a job I have to go to tomorrow any way?” I say looking at her.
“Oh, I don’t know, I just thought you’d stay the rest of today, maybe even the night. Skip work again, there’s some other stuff I’d like to show you.” She looks at me with her bright blue eyes, eyebrows raised, questioning, wanting, needing, hoping. I look back at her, my shirt still in my hand and I feel this warm feeling come over me, this actual joy, or something like it, but now I’m sick, ready to vomit, my stomach feels awful.
“I have work, I don’t want to get fired.” Her and I, we look at each other, me us motionless and Macy’s breast rise and fall as she breathes in and out. I don’t even understand why I’m still here, why I even came here, laid in this bed, kissed her, touched her, made love to her.
Made love? I thought.
I didn’t make love to this girl, it was sex and that was it, just fun and pleasure that is all, a booty call, not the pillow talk and cuddling afterwards, just plane old sex and nothing else.
“They won’t notice if your gone, you said your job is pointless any way, so I highly doubt they even know you’re there when you are, and even if they do find out your gone, then you can just tell them you got sick or something like that.” He starts to move to side of the bed nearest to me. “Stay, please, stay.” She looks up at me with her cute little puppy dog face that is absolutely adorable and I hate it with all my heart.
My hands drop the shirt from my hand and it floats to the floor and lands softly not making a noise, and my feet start to move with out me telling them to, they move across the room, towards her, towards the bed. The carpet is soft beneath my feet as they land and take step after horrifying step, why can’t I stop walking, what am I doing?
“Sure,” what am I saying! “I’ll stay, today, tonight and the next day, for however long this goes.” she sits up in the bed, letting go of the sheet that barely covered the rest of her naked body and kisses me, and I kiss back, my lips move against hers and we kiss and kiss and kiss, and I hate every god damn single minute of it.
Forty four
A few days more back, that’s when the stuff with her brother happened
Forty Three
Look there, that’s where it is, the event that I needed
Forty two
I squeeze my eyes tighter and they hurt, pain shoots through my head.
Forty one
Forty
Three days later and I’m still here, this god forsaken hell hole, Macy’s tiny shit hole apartment, with her drugged out brother on the couch in the living room, passed out in front of the TV watching some mind numbing bullshit on the screen, and Macy and I are laying in her bed, which we haven’t left for these last few days, both of us just looking at the ceiling, not talking, only our chests move while we breathe.
“How many times is that now?” Macy asks me, turning her dumb beautiful perfect head towards me. He big ugly wonderful eyes staring at me, digging into me, cutting through me, seeing inside or me.
“I haven’t been counting.” Why should I, I hate every single second of us doing it, kissing touching, just being here together, and especially making love. There’s that word again, love, why does my head keep bringing it up, I can’t love this girl, she’s a thief, crazy, beautiful, the best thing ever to happen to me, a maniac, I can’t love some one like that, can I?
“Too many times too count.” She sits up in the bed and slides out of it. “I’m going to get a drink, you want anything?” She starts to put on her underwear.
“No,“ I say “I’m fine.” Fine, either in mind set, emotion, or physical need, is almost always a lie. Macy gets up putting a long shirt over her, leaving just her lower thighs and legs exposed, she walks to the bedroom door, and out into the hallway, and for some reason, I already miss her.
Why should I miss this girl, Macy, this is stupid, It can’t be? Can it? Love, no, no, ,no, this isn’t love, this is just a fling, that sort of thing. I like the company, and I really enjoy the sex, but no, this isn’t love, it’s a fling, booty call, but not love, anything but love, please don’t let it be that.
Out side of the room I hear a loud scream, a high pitched blood curling yell that makes me jump from the bed in fear. While I stand on the bedroom carpeted floor I listen, and I hear the sound of muffled sobs, and the TV with laugh track in the background. I walk out of the room, and down the hallway into the opening of the living room to see Macy standing looking over the couch, from on the other side of the coffee table, hands covering her mouth, sobbing and crying her big bright eyes out, she looks at her brother on the couch.
“What is it?” I ask, then the TV lets out this soft little chuckle.
“It’s, It’s, my brother, he’s, he’s,” Macy hands cover her open horrified mouth, and her eyes sprout tears.
“What?” I say.
“Look!” She screams, I turn to look at her brother, eyes wide open, tongue flopped on his big chin, he’s pale, not moving, not breathing.
“Dead.” I say, and the TV howls with laughter, cackling madly at this most hilarious scene. A dead brother, a weeping sister, and a half naked lover, what a scene this will be when the police arrive. Macy jumps over to me, shoving her head over my shoulder, coming to me for comfort. She weeps and I feel her tears run down onto me, leaving a wet mess of snot, slobber and tears on my shoulder. What am I going to do now, there’s a dead man on the couch, and a weeping girl in my arms, how will I get out of this situation with out looking like a murderer.
All I can think of right now is what I should I do.
“I’m going to call the police, or ambulance or something.” I say, and Macy shoves her tear ridden face away from me and looks me directly in the eye and says.
“You can’t! They’ll find out I’ve been giving him drugs, then they’ll find out where from, and then I’ll loose my job! You can’t do that, you can’t call them!” Her face is panicked now.
“Then what are we going to do?” Macy is wiping away the tears from her face, in the back ground the TV audience is still chuckling and laughing at this whole outrageously funny scene taking place. Macy runs out of the room, and comes back dressed and throws my clothes at me to put on.
“Put these on quick,” She says while walking about the apartment quickly. “We need to get out of here, I’m going to grab a few things, then I’ll call the police and tell them there is a dead guy in this apartment, but we’ll be long gone by then,” Macy looks at me, eyes wide. Wow, grieving in her family takes place real quickly. “you have an apartment, right? We’ll stay there, until this all blows over, I’ll live with you.” She grabs keys off the counter as I put my shirt on, the last piece of clothing left to put on.
“Alright.” I say, and she grabs my hand as we head towards the door.
Thirty nine
Thirty eight
Thirty seven
Was that it, her brother, the one I technically helped murder. No, that’s not it, that’s not what made me want to do this.
Thirty six
Thirty five
So then what was it? What is the single thing that made me want to jump off of here and plummet one hundred stories towards the ground.
Thirty four
Lets look back a few days ago, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, or was it Monday, lets look back to those days, let’s see if it’s there.
Thirty three
It has to be, it’s the only event left, so this must be it.
Thirty two
Thirty one
Thirty
In my apartment, in my bed, under my sheets, Macy lays asleep and I stare wide eyed and awake at the ceiling. One arm behind my head, the other holding her against my chest. I murdered him, her brother, well; I assisted in the murder of Macy’s brother. Helping her, technically, to steal the pills that lead to his oh so tragic death on the couch. I still remember the studio audience from the TV laughing and howling hysterically as Macy wept over her dead brother’s body, and how I myself almost laughed with them for some reason.
Now I sit here and I think, about that word, that one word that seems to keep flowing into my head, love. Why it does, I have no idea, why does it keep coming back and coming back, because this sure as hell isn’t love, it can’t be no way, not in a million years, especially a guy like me, and with a psycho, crazy as hell, beauty of the ages girl, no way, never.
Or is it?
I don’t know any more. I just wish I could figure it out.
I hate this girl, yet I love her? How does that work, it doesn’t does it?
I love to hate her, and I hate to love her?
That doesn’t make any sense, Shit.
Is this love though, the kisses, the sex, the touching, the feeling? But what is it all bound together on, nothing, that’s what, she’s insane and a thief, me boring and routine, well, not any more.
Twenty Nine
That’s it! Isn’t it, I fell in love, I am in love, love! Love is making me do this right, or is that she took me out of routine, my boring life, she made things complicated didn’t she, this is all her fault, her’s and love and routine, they are all to blame, aren’t they?
Twenty eight.
Twenty seven.
Twenty six.
That has to be it.
One hundred stories down, I can make out flashing red lights on top of police cars as they pull in front of the building. The tiny ant people come rushing out of the cars, hurrying left and right, then a voice over a loud speaker, faint but hearable comes to my
ears.
Thirty Five
Thirty four
Thirty three
“Don’t jump! Don’t jump; you have every reason to live!”
Love, hate, Macy, routine, all of them to blame, all of them to make me jump.
That tiny little voice on the wind reaches my ears again, faint like a mouse squeak.
Thirty two
“We are sending up someone to talk to you, stay calm, and don’t jump!”
Thirty one
Who could be coming up, unless, well, has it been long enough for her to call them, to try and make me live, her, the one who sent me here.
Thirty
Staring into the TV screen’s picture of big fancy Tom, and his partner Tracy, I wonder about what I have just realized. Tom’s big white fancy smile flashes on the screen, while the price for his Noodle Strainer flashes beneath him. Tracy’s hands on her too perfect cheeks, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open in surprise.
“I love Macy.” I say to myself, “I love Macy.”
Tom places his plastic piece of shit strainer under a tire, the car rolls over it, Tracy’s amazed eyes widen, mouth drops even more, the strainer didn’t break, how great.
“Tracy, there’s one last thing I want to show you with this.” Tom says, eyes facing the audience, the cameras, the viewers, but face, mouth, nose body facing Tracy, just trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the little monitor above the shot, out of view.
“And what is that Tom?” Tracy’s perky breast stick out of her V-neck shirt like ice burgs in the sea, the way you see the tiny part on top, and just below the surface is a whole block of ice, just waiting to sink your Titanic.
“I’ll tell you,” Tom’s whole body faces the camera, his hand shoots out pointing at the screen. “Right after the commercial break!” Then a cut to commercial, advertising, in advertising, in advertising, a big gigantic loop of the same thing happening over and over and over.
I sit there and watch the TV as I go through my head, why do I love Macy, how do I love Macy? Then, the sharp shrill sound of the telephone ring breaks my thoughts. Looking over I see my little light in my electronic screen flash on and off again for every ring.
“Hello?” I say, answering it.
“Yes sir,” It’s a lady, her monotone voice comes over the phone from god knows where. “I’ve been told to inform you that you have been fired from your job for failure to show up, your last check will arrive in the mail. Have a good day.” Then the dial tone, the constant hum of nothingness, like the electric snow I get on one of my television channels.
I set the phone back in its little cradle charger, and turn off my TV, then sit there in the darkness, doing nothing, just thinking.
Twenty Nine
They are sending up Macy for sure, she’s the only one who they would, the only person I have connection with.
Twenty Eight
Waiting here, then minutes, then from behind I hear the opening of the door to the roof of my one hundred story gravestone.
Twenty Seven
Looking back over my shoulder, I see two men in trench coats followed by what seems to be too many police men and then Macy, come out, the shoes grind against the gravel of the roof, crunching and crushing beneath each step they take.
Twenty Six
Twenty Five
“Now Son,” Looking back over my shoulder the tan coated black man speaks to me, his hand calmly facing me, arm half stretched out, like an animal tamer trying to calm a lion. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret, just wait and listen to what we have to say, and also, what she has to say.”
Twenty Four
Twenty Three
Macy steps out from behind him, clutching her purse in her hands, her face calm.
Twenty Two
“Hi,” She says, “I got your note.”
Twenty one
Looking back at her, seeing her face, looking at her, absorbing her image into my mind, I say “Yeah, I know.”
Twenty
Looking over the bed, watching Macy sleep, my heart sinks, my stomach goes light, looking at how pretty she is fills me with an awful wonderful feeling. I slide my jacket over my shoulders and arms, looking at her. I love her, for some crazy out there reason, I love her, but she changed my life, took me out of my routine, got me fired, I hate her, but, I still love her.
Leaning down, I kiss her on her forehead, she sighs and a smile comes across her face. Does she love me too? Is this, are we, love? I stand back up, and pull the white envelope from my pocket, turning it over in my hands; I place it on the bed stand. That will explain what I am about to do, why I have to do what I am about to do.
Nineteen
Eighteen
“So,” I say, turning around to face her. “What did you think?”
She clutches onto her bag tighter then before, almost nervous, scared.
Seventeen
“I don’t know.” She sighs.
Sixteen
“Well, then, I don’t know what to say.” I look at her, into her eyes.
Fifteen
We both just look at each other, staring, the black man talks into his walkie talkie, whispering an order, a command to his any people bellow.
Fourteen
Macy and I just look at each other, not saying a word, the wind blows around us.
Thirteen
Twelve
She takes a deep breath in; I let a deep breath out.
Eleven
The Trench coat men stand there, looking from me to her; the police have their guns at their sides, just waiting.
Ten
I look up one hundred stories to the top of the building, up the glass windows that reflect the morning sun. The building marked 164th Maple. I look up and I am telling myself, this is it, this is where you die, right here, from there to here, from the top to the bottom.
I want to die
It’s the only way out.
I take the stairs; I’m not in a rush, taking all one hundred stories of stairs up to the top where I will jump off.
Up on top, the sun half covers the roof, the wind blows slightly, cooling me from the sun that would heat if only I stood there for hours. The gravel crushes and mashes beneath my feet as I head to the corner of the building where I will jump.
The sun is out, the sky is beautiful, a wonderful day for a death
Nine
“Macy,” I say, looking at her, staring at her, wanting her. “I love you.”
Eight
Macy drops her purse, and falls to her knees, making a loud crunch in the gravel roof. My heart drops, my stomach lightens.
Seven
The trench coat men fall to a knee, asking Macy if she’s alright. She pushes them away with a hand and looks up to me.
“I have to tell you something, I found out a couple of days ago.” She looks at me, standing up, leaving her purse behind on the ground. She takes a step towards me, the gravel crunches. She puts her chin to her chest, sighs then looks to me. “I’m Pregnant.”
My heart feels like its stopped beating, my legs feel gone, inside my head, I go blank, I just stare at her.
Six
“Are you sure?” I ask
“Yes, one hundred percent.” I turn and face towards the streets, the cars, the people below.
“You know, I’m still going to do it.” I say over my shoulder.
“Now hold on son, it’s not that bad, we can all-“ Macy cuts off the Black Man
“I know.”
“Is it alright, if I do that?” I ask her.
“It’s not up to me, it’s up to you, if you want to, if you feel you should, then you should, but if not, stay.” She wipes a tear out of her eye. I look down at the people, the cars are all stopped, a crowd of people have gathered behind the caution tape, and the news crews have finally arrived.
Five
“Son, you don’t need to jump, we can sort all this out.” The black man is still trying to coax me down.
“I’ve already made my decision,” I say over my shoulder to him. ”You’re not going to stop me.”
Four
“Macy?” I say over my shoulder.
“Yes?” She replies, the soft wind blowing her hair.
Three
“I love you.”
“I know.”
Two
Sighing, putting a foot over the edge, looking back on all of this. Today’s weather is a chance of suicide, followed by grief, something new for everyone. Today we are selling Miracle Butter, turning old people young everywhere, but first, before I tell you more, a commercial. This box, gets taken to a man, who gives me an empty box, my job is basically pointless. I’m fine today, a lie inside a lie, inside a lie, an advertisement inside an advertisement, inside an advertisement. French Toast with a side of strawberries, all slathered in syrup. Where will Nancy’s routine morning be without me? Macy, I love to hate her, and hate to love her, the howls of laughter from the TV audience kick up around me.
One
“Now son, come on back, you don’t need to do this!” Still trying to coax me down.
I look back on all this.
“Goodbye.” I say
Zero.
Comments
Please Login to post comments| On March 26th 2007 roffledwaffles Said : | |
|
Okay, to any one who has read this...there are some spelling and/or grammer errors, I've taken them into consider ration, but for now, please just do your best to correct them in your head to a word you find suitable....
thank you |
| On March 25th 2007 Chelsea12093 Said : | |
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Wow a great story but you never mentioned the name for the main character |
