Generation 5: Chapter two

“And you’ll call us every day, you hear me?” June’s muffled sniffling rang in my ears as I stood on the pavement, hugging my adoptive father goodbye. Either I was imagining, or I actually saw a teardrop trickling down his cheek just before he pretended to scratch his face.

“Don’t worry, misses J. I’ll be protecting Krissy, and keeping her company at the same time,” Cara flashed a smile at June, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder.

“That’s what I’m worried about, you girls have a knack for getting up to no good,” Phillip shook his head, releasing me from his grip and dug around in his pockets, frantically searching for something.

Today was the day. It was the day that I was climbing out from behind my protective shell and venturing into the unfamiliar, outside world. At least, that’s what it felt like to me. When you’ve been huddled up in a small town like I had been for my whole life, the idea of taking a step outside your comfort zone ends up being a big deal.

After careful consideration, soaking up each word of wisdom my real parents and the caring couple of Ferrell’s had given me throughout the years, I had come to a satisfactory conclusion to what path I would follow: Music. My life revolved around creating music, listening to it, or figuring out the hidden meanings behind lyrics. When I listened to music, be it modern or old school, I loved to curl up in bed and listen to the instrumental of the song, thankful for it, because if it weren’t for the background music, all you would have is a voice that gave me a headache at times.

So it was a good thing that, from an early age, I had been preparing myself for a career in it, mastering several arts. Piano, guitar, and so much more...but my ultimate favourite would be the piano. The soft melodies that the instrument produced could always soothe me, even when I was in a terrible mood, ready to strangle someone.

The shiny object that Phillip tenderly removed from his right side pocket caught my attention, and he stretched out his palms, presenting it to me as a gift. “We only realized now that we’ve been skipping out on keeping you up to date with the latest technology...,” he paused, stealing a glimpse at his wife. She nodded reassuringly. “June’s sister has grandchildren who are always talking about the wonders of a phone and how you can keep in touch with people...so we got you one as well.”

“R-r-really?” The two had already done so much for me; it felt like a crime, accepting yet another gift. Out of the corner of my I caught Cara smiling broadly at the scene in front of her, as if she had a hand in what was going on.

All I knew was that I had amazing parents, adoptive or not, and a great best friend that cared about me. With them in my life, I felt like I could change the world.

Slowly but surely Cara and I packed the remaining suitcases into the trunk of the rental car, trying to ignore the nervous chatter coming from the two on the pavement. Just as my hand slid to open the car door, Cara stopped me. “You sure you want to do this?” she asked in a low voice.

“No,” sighing, I shook my head. “But if I don’t leave now,” I answered in the same low tone, “I’ll run back into that house and never go out again.” After giving a small nod, she left my side and climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Besides, I’ve already been accepted!”

It was a miracle that my application form had been accepted so late into the year, but according to Cara, they do make exceptions now and then, especially to those that show great potential. The fact that I got accepted on a whim reinforced the idea that I was on the right path.

“Alrighty, it’s just that I don’t want you to accuse me of bullying you into this when we reach our dormitory, okay...?”

I held back a chuckle. “Um...”

“What?”

“You actually DID bully me into this.”

“That’s your word against mine, and everyone seems to believe me, so you’ve lost that fight already,” she smirked, holding back a hand to examine her newly done nails.

With a swift roll of the eyes, I dismissed the conversation, turning my attention back to my parents on the side of the street. They were snuggled up close to each other, protecting themselves against the nip in the air. With a push of the button, the window whirred past me and I could stick my head out of the car to yell goodbye. “Goodbye...mom and dad.”

Instantly, the cold was forgotten, their faces alight with surprise. Sure, I had always called them by their names. I knew very well they weren’t my parents, and I would n't easily call them by a pet name, but never had I considered just what an impact that would have on them. So, the fact that I changed my usual greeting to something a little more personal seemed to brighten their day.

“G-goodbye sweetie,” June Ferrell, who I would, from that day onward, refer to as ‘mom’, stuttered briefly before recovering, and waved ‘goodbye’ alongside her husband. 

"Do you think there'll be any cute guys on campus?" Cara asked, snapping her fingers in my face as the car started speeding forward. "I mean, I've been there before to check it out, but everyone seemed to be in class at the time...total shitty timing on my part."

"Well." I took a breath. "I think if there are any around, they'll probably be too old for you anyhow."

She fell back in her chair with a huff. "Shit."

Chuckling at her frustration, I repeatedly checked the GPS to make sure that we were following the right path. Thank God for GPS. School didn’t exactly teach us how to read a map efficiently, and neither of us joined Girl Scouts or any kind of camp that helped us with direction. For two people that were raised in the countryside, we were surprisingly more like a city gal than anything else. After a few minutes of silence in the car, the GPS started beeping. We had just left the boundary of Appaloosa Plains, now on the road to the university campus.

“You have no idea how good it feels to get out of there.”

“Oh, I do,” Cara winked. “I’ve left plenty of times, but for some reason, I keep coming back. Probably because one of my most favourite people on this planet lives in that planet...otherwise, I’d never go back to that place.”

If it hadn’t been me that was driving, I would have peeked over my shoulder, watching how Appaloosa Plains was shrinking in the background.  Something was weighing heavily on my mind, something that should be kept a secret always. If I didn’t, a lot of people would get hurt.

The thing was...

I believed that, after university...

I wasn’t going to go back to Appaloosa Plains...

At all.

Coupled with all the good memories were horrible ones, the image of my parents’ death still haunting me at times when I was all alone, when there was no music to console me, no arms to keep me safe. Some may say I was running away from my problems. I wasn’t: I was simply putting the past behind me. What was the point of clinging to something familiar when that something only made me feel like crying inside?

That’s how I ended up rapidly wiping away the stray tears that were running down my cheek. “It’s too quiet in here,” I croaked, fumbling around with the controls of the radio.  Gosh, I only noticed now just what a depressed, selfish person I had been all along, always worrying about my own problems and feelings while never taking the time to listen to what others wanted to share.

That would change...but maybe five more minutes of self-loathing before I enforce that little promise on myself.

~

She jumped out of the car, just like a six year old that was excited to see her new dog. With the same carefree nature, she twirled around, catching the interest of a few new students. Oh yeah, I had a crazy best friend. “I don’t know her, nope,” smiling sheepishly I grabbed a suitcase and started lugging it towards the door.

Hands extended into the air, Cara made an announcement. “Stand back, bitches. The party has arrived at this dormitory.” The building had been in dire need of what Cara defined as a “party”. The exterior was coated with a gray paint, lacking imagination in oh so many ways. With the two of us staying at this dorm, we were going to put the life back into the dreary place..

“Let’s go check out our rooms,” my best friend started dancing into the dormitory, leaving her suitcase outside. One could only hope that no one was stupid enough to steal it.

“The rooms will probably look better than the outside, I think.”

Worst. Assumption. Ever.

When the door of our new room swung open, Cara and I stood there for at least 10 minutes, trying to find the right word to describe it.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “Um...”

“...Yeah.”

“It’s so green...”

“So green...”

“...And UGLY.”

“So ugly...”

Cara recovered, albeit unwillingly, checking underneath the beds (most likely for spider webs) and flitting through the books on the shelf. “It’s pretty clear no one’s been in this room for a while. And when I say ‘while’, I mean a REALLY long time.”

My best friend was all about being spontaneous. For once, I was going to take a page out of her book.

“What are you doing?” she enquired, her eyes following my every movement across the room as I started tearing the wallpaper off.

Holding out a piece of the broken wallpaper, I jerked my chin towards it. “Do you want to live in a room that looks like this?”

She bit down on her lip. “No…”

“Then what’s the problem? We can get furniture from other rooms that haven’t been occupied yet, and we can secretly repaint and redecorate this place. Trust me; we’re doing the place a favour. We can just blame everything on someone else that dropped out of university.”

“Krissy Duff,” Cara exhaled, “I like this side of you.”

My lips were twisted into a broad smile. “Let’s do this then.”

Not long after Cara reminded me to attend orientation, we found ourselves sliding down the rails of the staircase just like we used to when we were kids, hurrying through the door and nearly getting lost on the campus as we tried to find the welcoming party. Just for in case, I grabbed my camera on the way out. 

Hey, it was the first day of university: you never knew when something exciting could happen…or if your friend could make a fool of themselves in front of a crowd of people. Something that wasn’t unheard of.

As we strolled around, I found myself tugging at the dress, wishing that it would cover more of the skin that was now left barren and vulnerable. According to Cara, the dress code had been formal, but with the way she giggled at how uncomfortable I looked, as well as the way she dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, it had to be yet another practical joke.

When would I ever learn not to listen to my best friend?

Another thing that seemed like a joke was how friendly people on campus were, so friendly it surprised us both. Around every corner of a building there were students huddled together, but as soon as they saw us, they were eager to help us if we were lost (which we definitely were). What had happened to all the stories of how students were supposedly snobs, who only rolled their eyes in your direction?

Guess that only applied to high school.

“Seems like you’re going to be Miss Popular,” Cara whispered as we passed a group of boys that had been so absorbed in their books until we had come along. “Did you see the way they looked at you?! Total instant-crush if you ask me,” she smiled slyly, pulling me towards the building we had been looking for the entire time.

And right at that moment, just as we were about to step inside…a senior student jogged by, wearing no shirt and flaunting his muscles that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I was going to be attending orientation all by myself.

Taking a deep breath, calming myself, I sighed. “If you want to run after the guy, go ahead.”

She beamed with delight. “Thank you! Take a picture just in case I don’t catch him, okay?”

“Fine,” as soon as I snapped a picture of the stranger (that I would be calling Cara’s future husband from that day onward), I waved goodbye, grumbling all the way till I entered the hall.

The entrance hall was filled with tables, all of them decked with snacks and cans of sodas, while some even had a few goodie bags stashed between the junk food. Unlike the tables, the walls were covered with banners with the university logo adorned across it, with a bunch of school flags were bundled together in a container, a sort of souvenir of your time here, I suppose.

Only after I heard someone ticking on a microphone to test its quality did I remember my real purpose here.

"Eh..." The speaker slammed at his chest while the rest of the audience chuckled at this show of professionalism gone bad. Whoever he was, I didn't think he was a lecturer. At least, that's what I hoped. "I know this speech was supposed to be orchestrated by my professor, Professor Frederick, but since he has, uh, taken ill I suppose, he asked that I take his place instead." He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.  "Ladies and gentleman, I bid you welcome to today's events, specifically to the new students that have enrolled and are here today. As my professor once told me, not everyone is good enough to qualify for Claremont University, and the fact that you are here just goes to show that you are dedicated and talented, and this university wants to help you further that talent. I don't exactly want to give a history lesson today of all of Claremont's accomplishments and the exemplary students it has delivered, so if you are not yet convinced that you might the right choice, I advise that you take a whole afternoon and sift through the books at the library, where we have record of just how successful Claremont University is. For all of the new students, in the entrance hall you will find a map of the campus that you can take with you. Your class schedule with most likely be emailed to you, or you can pick it up from the main building in the center of the campus."

"Well..." The speaker tapped at the podium, breaking the silence that had ensued.  “I guess that concludes my speech. Does anyone have any questions for me? I'll try to answer as best as I can, but since I’m a student myself, I can’t make any promises that I will have the right answer.”

A blonde girl in the audience eagerly raised her hand. “Um, what’s the deal with our dorms? Like, what are our options?”

“Ah, I can answer that,” he smiled with obvious relief. “There are sororities and fraternities, of course, but we actually have two buildings that are for both genders if you don’t object to the way guys play loud music and walk around half-naked all the time.” That definitely got the blonde girl thinking, and just from looking at how she and her friends were chatting excitedly, it seemed like they were picking that type of dormitory.

Just for sports, I raised my hand. “Yes, the girl at the back, what’s your question?” he called to me.

I couldn’t help but smiled as I answered. “Well, for one, what’s your name?”

“Oh shi-, I mean, um…My apologies, I should have introduced myself at the beginning of my little speech. I’m Raymond Carter…and if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go now. Still have to study…and stuff.” He waved (quite theatrically) and shuffled off of the slightly elevated stage and towards the food table. 

“So…” Slowly, I approached the blue-haired male, afraid that he would run off – he looked truly jittery when he was on the stage. “What do you major in, Raymond Carter?”

As I was talking, he piled a load of pastries onto his own plate, offering some to me. I shook my head, and he continued. “I’m one of those crazy ones, you know, those who study Business.”

“Oh,” I nodded, understanding what he meant. In high school, we classified those people as Einstein’s, because the work they did and the subjects they had made absolute no sense to us. “You’re one of those. Not that it’s a bad thing, I mean,” 

I babbled. “I mean, people probably think I’m a crazy one, too.”

“Why would they…?”

I shrugged as I searched for something on the table that looked safe to eat. “There’s this stereotype surrounding artsy people. I’m majoring in Fine Arts, specifically music, actually. My name’s Krissy, by the way.”

He extended his hand politely for a hand shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Krissy. And you’re right, there is this generalization surrounding artistic people, but I’ll let you in on a little secret…”

Surprisingly enough, I was enjoying his company, and found myself asking the obvious follow-up question. “Which would be?”

“I don’t care about those stories,” Raymond winked, proceeding to stuff his mouth with a delicacy (making me hungry in the process, damn him) and swallowing it down with a sip of ice cold Coca-Cola.

“Well, it’s nice to know there are people like that around here,” peeking over my shoulder, I found Cara waiting in the entrance hall, dissatisfaction etched into her features. My shoulders slumped slightly, and I pointed at the door as if it would explain the whole situation. “I have to go offer my shoulder to a friend in need, but maybe I’ll see you around, Raymond.” As I waved goodbye, walking backwards towards the door, I nearly fell over my own heels, catching the attention of the entire room and making myself look like a complete fool.

Yet again, thanks to Cara for telling me I had to wear something formal.

Weeks passed by in a blur at Claremont University, and before I knew it, I was swamped under books I had to study and assignments I had to complete. 

Strangely though, I didn’t feel like I was following my dream, but I had to realize some time or another: Along with the fun, practical work (i.e., playing the piano, making music and whatnot), there’s also the case of the theoretical work that has to be done, whether we liked it or not. While there was still plenty of time before we had exams, our lecturer reminded us every day to prepare for finals.

I had been majoring in Fine Arts, while Cara had it a little bit easier, majoring in Communications. It was easy breezing for almost everyone there, though the class was filled with a large amount of people with no sense of humor – that was the rant that Cara gave every night. Something included in her daily rant was the guy I referred to as “Cara’s future husband”. In the time that has passed since our arrival, I had made friends with a lot of people on campus, and his name was on everyone’s lips. 

Devin Jameson. He made the girls on campus swoon like crazy. He was a player through and through, yet girls didn't mind spending one night with him just to be dumped the very next day. With him, there were no emotional ties; just a night to remember for the rest of your life, or so some of my new friends figured. The rumors were that even in towns close by, he was a well known visitor, as well as a regular at the hottest clubs in town.

Either these girls were insane, or I was. Why the heck would they be so desperate for the appreciation and acceptance of one guy when there were dozens, of guys on campus?

Yup, the logic of some people still had a knack of astounding me every once in a while.

It wasn't like he was trying to hide these relationships with other girls, either. I had the horrible luck of entering the living room of our unisex dormitory, only to find Mister Jameson smooching one of my classmates named Charissa, his hands exploring every inch of her body, probably begging her to abandon the clothing she had on.

That was certainly going to be the main topic to discuss in the next class.

Sure, he was probably attractive, with his muscular build complimenting his face which had an odd, rather "hard" look to it, especially his jaw line. And his eyes...Those had to be his instruments of war, the tool he used to put girls under his spell. One look from him and girls were mesmerized. I'll admit, even I felt my knees turn to jelly when I looked into his eyes.

But that was still a crappy reason to want to go out with him for just one night.

“He’s at it again,” at first I thought it was my own head that conjured that line, but a quick inspection of the room revealed another individual eyeing the rather disturbing picture in front of me. “She’s one of my best friends, and as much as we’ve talked about how much of an ass that guy is, there she goes, falling for him just because he paid her a bit of attention.”

“So what you’re saying is, he goes for loner girls that are begging for attention?”

The girl shook her head quickly. “No, that’s not it. He knows exactly when to say the right thing, I think. I heard the way he talked to her, and wow, it was pretty interesting.”

Averting my gaze from the couple in the corner, I shrugged, still not accepting that as a good excuse.  If that were the case, girls would have been all over poets, but it seems that they never get that kind of attention.  “At the end of the day, you still have free will. Do me a favor: Go take your friend by the arm and shake her till she comes to her senses.”

“If it’s not too late, I’ll try that.”

I had never been one to watch chick flicks, or any type of movie that involved a major amount of making out, so I left the room with no excuse or goodbye to the girl I had been talking to; instead, I took refuge in my revamped dorm room that I shared with Cara.

While there was still some peace and quiet in the room, I took the time to work on one of my art assignments. I certainly wasn't the best sketch artist on the planet, always messing up the eyes or the shape of the head, or lacking originality when I could go freestyle, so I didn't expect good marks for that class.

At least there was room for improvement, right?

As I sat there on my bed, drawing and occasionally rubbing out my idiotic mistakes and ruining the sketch, forcing me to start over again, my fingers were itching to stroke the strings of a guitar, to hear the soft sound that made my world feel complete. Alas, it was a wish I couldn't act on, with the girls next door yelling at how "irritating" the sound was. How superficial. Those were girls that were obsessed with the color pink, that wore only the best. 
In my opinion, their definition of "best" sucked.

"I GOT AN INVITE!" My pencil flew out of my hand, landing across the room just Cara burst into the room with a huge smile on her face, thrusting her smartphone in my face. "Read that. Not only did I get an invite to an awesome party at the swimming pool tonight, but you did as well! Check your phone!"

Rather than rub it into Cara's face that I had received plenty of invites in the past but had ignored them all, I checked my phone, and sure enough, there was a new message. "Yeah, I did. And here I thought I was going to stay in tonight and finish all these assignments of mine..."

Quite violently, she grabbed my arm, pushing me towards the wardrobe. "No 'buts'. Get dressed, or, in this case, undressed."

The walk to the swimming pool felt like it lasted forever. It was pretty secluded, far away from most of the dorms, so no one, that happened to find themselves closed up in their room and studying on a Friday night, could say that we were disturbing them.

Possibly the worst thing about walking all the way to the venue was that, well, we were half naked, with nothing to hide under, other than mere scraps of clothing. While most people felt pretty comfortable in swim suits, there were those that didn’t have the leanest of bodies to show off. I definitely fit into that category.

“Nonsense,” Cara brushed off my mumbled complaints. “You look great. It’s high time you start showing off more of those assets that you were blessed with.”

“You disturb me on so many levels, you know that?”

She simply shrugged. “When are you going to realize that you are pretty? I mean, you have a great tan even, and what do I have? All I have is the inability to tan and the gift of money to supply myself with a fake tan. But trust me, the fake stuff doesn’t last…which reminds me, I have to make another appointment…”

We still had two blocks to walk till we got to the swimming pool, but from far away I could see the party being set up. A DJ booth, some party lights, and a juice keg barrel were some of the things that were in the process of being hauled out of a delivery van.

Since it didn’t look like there were too many people around just yet, Cara and I split up, looking for something to do or to help set something up. In the meantime, I acquainted myself with the barkeep, which didn’t look too happy with his shift that evening.

“Is the bar open yet?” I asked, unsure whether or not I should be disturbing him. From the way he glared at the guests arriving, it probably wasn’t.

“Yeah, I guess,” he grumbled. “I just don’t know for how long; I’m gonna lose my job for sure. The DJ cancelled at the last moment.”

An idea sparked in my mind. “Oh. Well, uh, I can fill in for him? I’m pretty skilled in music, and I’m a fast learner, so maybe I can make it work.”

“Seriously? That’d be great!” he heaved a sigh of relief. “If you can, you’d be saving my ass.”

It can’t be THAT hard…, I figured

I hadn’t been too wrong. The DJ booth was pretty high-tech, and even came with an instruction manual for beginners, which helped a lot, but a book can only teach you so much – after that, it’s time to experiment, make mistakes and learn from them until you had the ultimate recipe for success; a musical melody that could give people the urge to dance and set the floor on fire. More and more students were arriving in cars by the time I had nearly mastered the art, and there were even a few new students like us that had to walk all the way to the venue. Already there were guys and girls dancing together (Cara being one of them, having grabbed a random person to dance with her). “Yo, DJ! Can you switch to dub step?” someone yelled from the edge of the pool, bobbing his head to the tune while he carried a drink in his hand.

The fact that people were swaying their hips, dancing with smiles on their faces or just simply bobbing their head to the music like that creepy dude from the side of the pool meant that I wasn’t the worst DJ on the planet, even though I had no real clue what I was doing right.

Along with requests for a certain song, a few individuals sneaked a tip over the edge of the booth, showing me ‘thumbs up’.  Should I give all the proceeds that I had rightly earned to the owner of this establishment? Probably, but it was, yet again, a time to follow a piece of advice I had gotten from Cara: Sometimes it’s a good thing to bend or break the rules.

Everything would have been perfect if it weren’t for a certain male’s presence that was skulking around the girls who were dancing in groups on the dance floor. Devin Jameson seemed to be picking out his next victim, and he did so discreetly, wearing a black t-shirt that accentuated his muscles rather than stripping down to his bare undies. Most of the girls would probably have fainted if he did do that.

With a drink in the hand, holding his head high over the crowd, he moved between the crowds until he found a spot close to the booth. The way he looked at me, his eyes studying my every move…it made it pretty hard to not look at him, or even do my job properly.

Then I realized.

He was scoping out his next target.

And he found her.

Me.

I was his next target.

Tying up loose ends: Part 1

The sinister look that sneaked into his features made me realize...

This was all planned.

The whole festival coming to town, the charade that he was funding it and all that crap...

It was all a plot to flame us out. To get us out of the safety of our own home, behind the walls of brick, and into the wide open: the park.

It was still early, with most of the shops closed, and people still hiding under their bed covers, or huddled up in front of the television with a warm blanket.

Oscar would get rid of the supposed loose ends, and no one would even see it.

With a snap of his fingers, people dressed in black emerged from behind walls, out of tents and some even jumped out from between flower bushes.

"You will not ruin my perfect plan, Daniel Jackson. I promise you that." He turned away, leaving us to be pummeled by his henchman. Or whatever dastardly plan he had installed for us.

"What kind of 'perfect plan' involves you getting your own daughter killed just because she didn't want to be a part of your schemes?!" Vala screeched, slapping away the hands that reached towards her, actually managing to knock one unconscious with her mad skills. "The only thing that proves is that you're insane!"

Just an inch before he was at the door of his escape car, he stopped. His face was that of a monster as he turned around to face us again. With eyes that were narrowed, he motioned towards Vala. "Kill her first," he instructed. "Slowly...and make him watch."

History was repeating itself in a way.

It seemed as if time stood still, emphasizing every little detail of the situation.

"Daniel!" Through the chaos that followed, with dozens of men moving to grasp her, pulling her away from me and two of them holding me back, all I could focus on were her blue eyes, filled with fear.

People always say that one's eyes are the window to your soul, and as cliched as that phrase was, in that moment of time, I knew it to be true. In her eyes, she was screaming for help, begging for mercy, calling my name.

No.

She would not end up like Sarah.

I promised to protect her, and sure as hell, I was gonna keep that promise.

"Get your hands off of my girlfriend!"

With a backwards headbutt to release their grip, I managed to get one arm free, using it to elbow one of Oscar's henchman in the face, causing him to fall to the floor with a sigh. The other one came at me, and after successfully ducking his punches, my fist connected with his abdomen, forcing the wind out of him and stunning him long enough for me to deliver a knockout blow.

Two down. Ten to go.

The odds were certainly not in my favor.

The men started to abandon Vala's side, hurrying to catch me again, but I was too quick, my strides fueled by adrenaline. I reached her side, pulling her towards the pavement, to get away from the mob, to find help.

But it was a feeble attempt. A sharp pain in my lower back made me lose control of my legs, and I could only watch Vala fall forward without me, being picked up by dirty fingers that seemed hungry for human flesh.

The sound of a Taser being activated resonated in my ears, but after a while, even that stopped. Unconsciousness was a given, no matter how much I tried to keep my eyes open. Though I wasn't going to give up without a fight.

My eyelids flickered, and each time they closed and reopened the scene before me  changed drastically. Even though my vision was blurry, I could have sworn that I saw a blonde woman approaching the scene, along with a whole squad of men that looked like they were a part of the police... They were extending guns, shouting commands, and Oscar's men were started to put their hands behind their backs. 

A face appeared in front of me with two, huge eyes.  He seemed to be smiling. "I always got your back, bro," he grinned, patting me on the back. Content with the fact that Vala was in safe hands and that both she and the baby were safe, I was allowed some rest...

~

"So what you're basically saying is that...you were investigating Oscar McMullen? That's why you showed up at the park?" Vala was helped into a rocking chair in the nursery that I had helped to build, paint and decorate. Where was I at that moment, you might ask? Lying on the floor, being treated to a massage by my baby sister. The electrical shock to my body hadn't done much damage to the interior, but did give me quite a few bruises on my back. Darcy had been very adamant about taking care of the scars with tissue oil, and as protesting took too much effort. So I gave her free reign.

"Pretty much," Jack confirmed, looking rather pleased with himself. "I thought he would have been long gone by the time we got there, but, being sadistic, he wanted to watch you two being...well, tortured I guess. Damn, it felt good to put a pair of shackles on that guy."

Jack had confessed that he was no longer tied to the Air Force, and had, instead, become a Private Investigator. "What became of you and Sam...?" Darcy hinted at the two of them being a conversation.

The small smile that crept onto Jack's face told me exactly what was going on between them. "There's...small amounts of progress in that regard."

~

The day that Vala gave birth would be one of the memories I would always cherish. Boy, had it been a struggle to get her into the car and off towards the hospital at a speed that was sure to result in a few tickets. She was completely petrified by it all, until my mother and father had stopped by, offering their support. My mom sat by Vala, coaching and comforting her. It was not often that our family could reunite in this manner, so it truly was a special day.

And it was the day Nicolette Alissa Jackson was born.

"She looks just your wife," my mom had smiled as she stroked the newly born baby's cheek. "But she has your eyes."

"And that's how I'm gonna end it for now...," I muttered, closing my digital diary and slamming the laptop shut just as my sister entered the room, with Nicolette (nicknamed Nicki) on her hip, as well as another bun in the oven. It was customary of me to tease her on how she gained weight, but at that moment, I wasn't in the mood for fun and games. After remembering all the stress and drama of the past, accompanied by so many heart-wrecking moments where I thought someone was going to die, I felt exhausted.

"Can I adopt this sweet little thing?" Darcy asked and she tickled Nicki all over her tummy.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Why? You have one on the way."

"I know...but this adorable girl is so sweet and hardly complains. Which means she's just like you. God forbid, we don't need another serious bloke walking around."

The face of my two year old was exactly that of her mother's. With a smile on my lips, I looked at the wedding photo that stood on the table in our room.

"I have a feeling she'll surprise you... I think that she's gonna be stronger than any of us. And she'll kick ass. Just like her mother."

~♥~

Ola, amigos! I promised I was going to tie up some loose ends of generation 4, and here is one such a post (yeah, I wrote it in an hour or so, so it's a lot shorter than my generation 5 chapters...>.>) 

Chapter 2 of generation 5 might be out in a couple days, but if it's not, it won't be out for a few weeks then, because my exams are gonna start in a week. 

Help. x_x

Generation 5: Chapter one

'Hi' to anyone that is reading this... Here's a little author's note to resolve some confusion that probably everyone has regarding the blog layout and the banner, and the title of this post even.

Okay, so, many months ago I had stopped writing, and I didn't think I would return, like, ever. Anyways, at the beginning of this year I got my computer upgraded, and it was reformatted...and of course, I didn't create a full backup of my Sims.

Saved files is one thing that I lost, as well as some sims that I didn't save in CAH. So, I can't exactly continue where I left off in generation 4.

I decided go ahead with generation 5 - now, I know that leaves a ton of loose ends (I hate those), I am going to try my best to resolve those. In this post there is a subtle explanation, but I will work on a lot more and a better one, once I have more time.

My writing has also changed, TBH (because I have changed a bit in the mean time)...As you will see, the amount of writing has increased drastically.

I do hope you'll have the patience to stick through it though. And one more thing about the sims' appearance...

Being able to play with sims that had crazy colored hair was something that sparked a re-interest of the game and in writing. As I'm gonna be keeping that aspect, expect to see some interesting colors. The photos of this particular post have also been edited, but that's a one time thing though. That's all I have to say for now.

Onward to the chapter~

The stable's walls were adorned with various types of murals, from contemporary style to back in the fifties even. It was my job to clean it all up, since, I had to admit, I was the one that made them. It was an act of boredom, quite frankly, an act I only did when I wasn't attending to my horse named Grace, who was currently nuzzling at my neck, looking for a treat.

"Not now, Grace," I flashed her a quick smile before focusing on the work in front of me. The amount of bubbles the sponge created would be better suited in a nice hot bath than on that ugly wall. Time to get a cheaper type of soap.

Focus, Krissy, the more time you waste here, the less time you get to spend at home, relaxing, cuddled up on the sofa with a nice book, or in front of the TV...ah dammit, I did it again. 

It truly was a bad habit of mine, to spend time reminiscing rather than doing actual work. But it was so much more fun to procrastinate...

If I were to write an autobiography, it would probably be filled with blank pages. There were so many things that I could write, but it made me sad to even think about it.

Krissy Duff. That was the name I went by in the quaint town of Appaloosa Plains. Only two people in the whole town knew that it stood for "Kristine", and that my real surname isn't Duff. My parents, whose surname was Wilson, was caught in a house fire that I was directly responsible for, having been playing with candles, something that I was regularly scolded for doing.  I was five years old at the time, and couldn't comprehend exactly what I had done. I had killed them. People all around me kept saying it was an accident, that I didn't mean for it to happen...

No matter what they said to comfort me, it still didn't bring my parents back from the dead, did it?

In any case, an old couple, Phillip and June Ferrell, took me in as their own. The rest of my family had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth when I was little. My grandparents, Daniel and Vala Jackson, were still alive, but no one knew how or where to reach them.

Behind me, Grace whinnied unhappily, grasping at strands of my hair with her teeth. "Hey-ey!"  gently tugging my hair free, I turned to face the beautiful black mare that stood beside me, anxious for attention. "Shucks, I wouldn't never forget about you, don't worry," I whispered at her ear, carefully stroking her neck and combing away some of the hair to reveal her pretty face. Yet, she wasn't satisfied with the meager attention I was giving her, whipping her head back and forth, seemingly scared.

"What could such a big animal be afraid of?" I shook my head, starting to braid her hair.

And back to reminiscing about the past.

I still couldn't comprehend how my own family could just disappear. Memories of a conversation I once overheard still lingered in my mind. "It's time for us to move on, Nicolette," my grandfather had whispered to my mom as he embraced her, his eyes filled with what looked like tears. "Sarah's father isn't going to be a bother anymore, he died in jail, where we put him...finally there'll be some peace."

Grace was starting to make me feel uneasy as she clopped her hoof on the ground. "Fine, fine!" I sighed heavily. "Why are you making such a fuss today?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe because there's something lurking about with purple hair, waiting for the opportune moment to pounce on someone she calls a friend?" an all-to-familiar voice spoke behind me, and I could swear she was grinning from ear to ear.

"Dear lord! What is THAT!" I gasped in mock-horror.

"They call it a fake tan," she sighed begrudgingly, blowing at her fingertips that had most likely just been manicured. All throughout high school, my best friend Cara Bradford had been teased that she as white as a sheet, even though the sun was not shy at shining here. Because of that, people thought she was a loner that was holed up in her house all day. It was quite the opposite actually. She loved going out and having fun, she was just incapable of tanning. "My dad finally gave me his credit card..."

Having a rich family made life so much easier.

Cara had lived in Appaloosa Plains most of her life, but in senior year, her family moved away to a big city, where bigger opportunities awaited her father, who was an entrepreneur or something like that. All I knew was that the amount of numbers that his salary consisted of was enough to leave me dumbstruck for at least a week.

"I thought you and your country folk were supposed to be experts and making people feel welcome," Cara muttered, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. After just a year in the city, she had already lost her accent, though I swore I could hear a faint trace of it mixed up in some of the words. "Is this how you greet a friend that you saw like, a whole year ago?"

Chuckling, I grabbed her arm and pulled her closer for a bear hug. "You have no idea how much I missed you, you crazy chick!"

"Nah, I missed you more."

"I missed you the most."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"Are we really gonna play that game now?"

"Maybe," we burst out laughing, resulting in another tight hug. "Gosh, it feels like it's been ten years since I last saw you, instead of just one." 

She nodded in agreement. "Sure has. Come, let's find a spot in town that doesn't smell like horse dung...and that has loads of caffeine, maybe. Still a bit jet lagged, but at least we can catch up." As she pulled away, Cara jerked her chin in the direction of where my horse stood. "That girl with dark hair is giving you the evil eye...," she spoke in hushed tones.

I sneaked a look and shrugged. "Teenagers these days, huh? No manners at all."  To think, when we were teens, we had acted the same way, judgmental of everything and everyone around us. We looked at the tacky shoes some people wore, to the rainbow-colored shirts that some boasted with, and not-too-secretly we had laughed about it. 

With no car of my own to drive around town, and with a lack of taxi's available, we had to make due with walking from place to place. A fact that Cara didn't appreciate. Apparently she had blisters on her feet, something she got from wearing high heels and not being used it.

"You can only blame yourself," I winked, ushering her to a nearby coffee house.

"One does not simply show up in a upper-class club with sneakers," she scolded, pointing to my own pair of dirtied sneakers, hardly a spec of its true color visible.

The coffee house was filled with a mixture of aromas that tickled my taste-buds. An assortment of pastries were stacked at the corner of the room, just waiting to be eaten. The assistant waved shyly and pointed at the dishes in front of us. "Can I get you girls anything?"

"Two cup of Joe's would be nice," Cara answered before I could, giving me a shrewd look, as if knowing that I was dying to try out those appetizers. "Decaf for her, regular for me." Seeing that I was about to protest, she turned to me again with a stern gaze. "You're already hyper at the moment...let's not make that any worse."

As we sat waiting for the coffee, Cara whipped a laptop out of her over sized handbag, taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi being offered.

"Look here," she snapped her fingers. "This is the university campus that I'll be going to this year."

She turned the screen slightly, leaving me amazed. On the laptop was a map of the campus, and when you hovered over one of the buildings with the mouse, it showed a picture of the landscape. There were huge buildings, some that looked quite old, which could have been churches, and then loads of modern buildings and dormitories. "Wow, it looks great. Any party clubs nearby?" I chuckled.

Cara pouted. "I'm not going there to party...but yes, there is one or two."

"Which could easily mean more than five."

"Whatever...have you decided where you'll be going? Think you could join me?" she asked hopefully.

That was a question that I dreaded. As much as I would have loved to pack up and go along on a new adventure with my best friend, it just wasn't possible for me in my situation. The only income the Ferrell's had was mister Ferrell's pension which was slowly starting to dry up. It just wasn't in their budget to send me to university. "I would love to, but...you know I can't."

"Nonsense. We could talk to my dad, ask him for some help-"

"No no no, that's out of the question, I don't want your dad to think I'm sponging off of you."

"Well...," she paused a moment, looking for an answer. "What about a study loan? A scholarship? You have options, Krissy. You can become successful in whatever career you choose...why do you want to settle as some pretty country girl with nothing to do, other than ride her horse into the sunset?"

Instead of answering, I stared intently at the coffee machine, watching the black liquid circulating. What she had said hurt, deeply, but it was a question that I had been asking myself for a very long time. I could lie and say that I have to take care of my adoptive parents. I could say that it's too much fuss, it being a lot easier to get a simple job and make a simple living here. To be honest, I didn't want that. I wanted to live the best life that I could, and I wasn't going to get it here.

"I'm afraid," I ended up answering. Fear was my biggest enemy. I feared failure the most of all. All that effort for nothing. If I avoided doing it, I would never have to be afraid.

"Aw, sweetie," she put her arm around me, hugging me gently. "We all are. The world is a big, dangerous place, but sometime or another, we have to face that fear."

After a good amount of catching up, laughing about just how silly we were in high school and a lot of other nonsense, Cara kept pestering saying "hi" to the Ferrell's. When we were juniors, Cara had the habit of coming over to our house every single day to hang out. She had slowly incorporated herself into our family and became good friends with my adoptive parents.

As we made our way to my house, my best friend tied her hair back with a rubber band and whipped out her mp3 player, most likely to inform me of a new song she had heard of.

I was so very wrong.

She had just wanted to irritate the crap out of me.

"So light 'em up, up, up, light 'em up, up, up, light 'em up, up, up, I'm on fiiiiiire..." Placing extra emphasis on the last word, Cara attempted a record breaking note, which was one of the worst mistakes in her life. She almost sounded like a duckling screaming for its mother. Not a pleasant sound at all.

If genies existed, and if I were to run into one and be granted three wishes, one of them would be to forget this very moment and grant my ears some peace of that horrid noise.

"Cara.... I love you and I love Fall Out Boys' music...but...just...no. Don't do that again. Ever."

"You're just mad because you can't even sing, like, at all."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Krissy?"

"Yeah?"

"My songs know what you did in the dark," she whispered another line from the song in a low voice, sounding extremely creepy in the process. I was going to have nightmares.

"Good afternoon, misses Ferrell," Cara greeted loudly as soon as we stepped through the door, slinging a arm around my neck, casual-style. She finally took a hint and ditched the mp3 player as well as the rubber band that held her hair in a ponytail. With no response, I noticed Cara nearly retreating out of embarrassment.

To her relief, I heard June Ferrell call out to us. "Hello, Krissy and..." The crease between her eyes deepened as she tried to remember the face in front of her. "I'll be damned. Cara Bradford. One year later, and you look completely different."

"It's the hair, right?" she mused, tugging at a strand of purple hair. "Yeah, my mom said that it might freak people out a little bit."

"I must say that it suits you. How is your mother, if I might ask?"

"Good, good, she just got out of..." They were in full conversation mode, one which didn't interest me too much, so I excused myself quietly and looked for June's spouse.

Peeking around the corner like a twelve year old poking her nose into other people's business, I spotted mister Phillip Ferrell seated on the couch, a sight that was familiar, as that was where he mostly hung out in the day, watching the sports channel or some other kind of documentary.

We all knew that when he was on his couch, it was best that he not be disturbed. Or if someone wanted to know what it would look like if all hell broke loose, they could go ahead and experience his wrath. For an old man, he still had some spunk.

"Krissy?" I heard Cara call out. "Are we gonna continue that conversation that we had earlier or are you just gonna try forgetting about it?" 

I sighed with a heavy heart, wishing that for once, Cara would throw me a bone and just leave it at that. "You're not gonna let me forget, are you?"

"Nope."

Though it was a well known fact that the Ferrell's didn't have a lot of money, the cottage they resided in was pretty big, with four bedrooms. The house had been one of June Ferrell's biggest investments when she was younger, running a small B&B before she married Phillip. When they adopted me, they put an end to their little enterprise and changed the rooms into suitable accommodations for a child.

Now, thirteen years later, two of those four rooms belonged to me. One served as my bedroom while the other worked as my personal study. No matter how much I had protested, they wanted the best for me, or at least the best they could offer. "We have no need for anymore space," Phillip Ferrell had assured me. "You definitely do...where else would you do your homework?"

Cara would never understand why I wouldn't want to leave these two old people, but I owed them so much, I couldn't just throw it back into their faces, pack my bags and leave.

My best friend skipped up the stairs, surveying the paint spots on the walls and instinctively running to the one where a trail of purple paint was splattered across an oak door.

"You're still obsessed with purple," she winked, pointing at the mess on my door.

"I was an idiot back then," I shrugged.

She was right, though. The entirety of my bedroom was purple, or at least a shade of it, which was in direct contrast with my hair. Who would ever be crazy enough to put turquoise and purple together? Yeah. I was.

"Love what you did with the place," she mused, absentmindedly stroking her hair, probably happy she chose to dye her hair that way. "You should see the new apartment I'm gonna live in after I-"

I nearly lost it then and there. "Cara, STOP." She had made herself comfortable on my bed in the meantime, and look quite chuffed with herself, knowing that she was getting everything that she wanted and just loved rubbing my nose into it. "Why the hell do you feel the need to keep reminding me that you're rich and that I have squat? You're a great friend, truly," I spat back, my words dripping with sarcasm.

"...didn't mean it like that."

"Well that's what it sounds like to me, okay."

The room was silent for too long afterwards. I couldn't just leave...although I strongly wished that I could. As Cara sat on my bed with closed eyes, I busied myself with trivial matters, rearranging my CD's and checking for any blemishes on my face. It certainly wasn't going to be me that was going to break the ice.

"Look...," she breathed. "I'm not trying to remind you that my dad is loaded. I'm just trying to make you realize that you have so much potential. That you CAN move on. So many people get stuck where they are because they feel comfortable...they feel safe. Sometimes you gotta step out of your comfort zone, you gotta do something dangerous...like that one vacation when we were fifteen, remember?"

I couldn't stop myself from smiling slightly. "Shark cage diving...oh God, that was hilarious."

"Uh huh. Last time we're making fun of sharks, right?"

"Yup."

On that particular vacation where I joined their family on a cruise ship, and later for some underwater diving, Cara and I had the nerve to take some bait and antagonize some of the wildlife creatures that were hungry. Of course, that included really big ones, including sharks. My hand was nearly bitten off, but we had fell on the deck of the boat, hysterical with laughter. That was one of the best moments of my life so far, where I actually had a lot of fun.

Fun.

I needed more of that in my life.

"So am I forgiven?" she cleared her throat.

"Um..." So many things were bothering me at that point, I couldn't give her a straight answer. "Do you mind if I go downstairs for a while? I need to talk to my, uh..." It was extremely hard for me to call them "my parents". Sure, they were like parents in every way, caring for me and all that, but I could faintly remember my real ones, and that made a big difference. "You just go ahead and take a nap while I go talk with the people downstairs, okay?"

She yawned before answering. "Normally I'd object, but as you can see, I'm gonna pass out any minute. Just remember to close the door...don't want people disturbing me."

"Sure, sure," I waved as I walked out, closing the door with my one foot and quietly sneaking down the staircase to find the rest of the household.

"Kristine? Sweetheart, is that you?" June's voice reached me from the living room. She was the only one that called me "Kristine". Phillip usually just referred to me as his "baby girl", doting on his daughter like any regular father would. Well, any father that loved his daughter, that is.

"Yeah, I'm here," I called back, leaning against the doorway, trying to make sense of all the troubled thoughts that I had. Should I tell them? Should I just forget about it? No, Cara wouldn't let that happen. What would they even think of the proposal...

"Sweetie...," my adoptive mother sighed, almost knowingly. "Come here," she beckoned, and my feet moved without questioning her order. "I know that face. You're carrying something really heavy on your heart... I'm here, if you want to talk, and Phillip will probably listen if he can tear himself away from the TV for a few seconds."

"I'm not that heartless...," he grumbled, jabbing at a few buttons and finally switched off the TV, which acted as his second wife in a way.

"See? Now, what's going on? Did you have a fight with Cara?"

"Kinda..."

"What was it about?" Phillip interjected.

I sighed, dreading to say the word. "University."

June's face flickered with surprise, then worry, and her gaze flitted to her spouse, the two of them sharing a knowing look. God, I hated when people did that. What, did I have to start learning how to read minds just to be included into a conversation?

Just great.

"We knew this day had to come sometime or another," June finally answered.

"Yeah..." Embarrassment was all I felt at this point. "I told her it's crazy, I don't have the money for it. I'd much rather just stay here, you know."

"Actually...we do," Phillip cleared his throat. "We've, uh, been asking at some banks about student loans...a lot of them were quite forthcoming."

I frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"If you ever want to go study, the option IS available. We love you too much to keep you locked up in here and stuck in this town, Kristine. Appaloosa is a place for peacefulness, which is perfect for us retired folk. But for you, a young girl full of spirit....it's a truly a crime if you don't go and explore the world by yourself.

"...Wow." Shocked would not have been an apt word to describe how I felt. "Flabbergasted" would probably be better suited. They were quite sneaky for old people, being able to keep it all a secret from my nosy personality, which usually uncovered a plot long before it was set to happen. I owed them so much already, and now they were stacking something else onto the heap.

"Can I go out for a while? Just for a walk. I need to clear my head."

June seemed to notice my confusion. "Of course. Should I tell Cara...?"

"No, don't worry, she won't even notice I'm gone."

Most people would frown upon the fact that they just allowed me to go out while it was pitch dark outside. The truth was that Appaloosa Plains was insanely safe. Nothing, I repeat, nothing ever happened that was bad. Gangsters would stand out like a sore thumb and other sorts of criminals would find that there isn't much of value around here. Most of people's belongings were worn out by now, as furniture was another thing passed down in some households.

Everyone knew who you were, who your parents, grandparents and maybe even great-grandparents were also. That's how tight-woven the community was.

So it wasn't too much of a crazy idea to be walking out into the dark by myself.

What I loved most of the Ferrell's home was that it was quite close to the local beach (probably the only beach in town). Being able to kick my shoes out and bury my toes into the sand was one of my favorite ways to make the time pass by.

Skulking behind some bushes that were conveniently located near the beach, I unbuttoned my blouse and slipped out of my pants, revealing the two piece I always wore beneath my clothes. My mood was unpredictable, so it helped to  wear it underneath so I could sneak away to the beach.

The action of tiptoeing implied secrecy - and yet, as I was sneakily tiptoeing towards the water, there was no secrecy. If anyone were to pass by, they would clearly be able to see me.

I hated being so exposed.

How much worse would it be at a university then? Where your school records were probably no secret, and curious students would love to unveil every secret you've ever tried to keep locked away.

That wasn't even the worse part. I still didn't have a clue what I wanted to study. I was quite versatile, which made things so much worse, made me so much more confused...

"What would my mother have said...," I wondered aloud. My true mother was a woman full of wisdom, something she got from my grandfather. Even when I was little, she spoke to me about adult things, theorizing about life and all its mysteries even though I couldn't wrap my head around it all yet.

"It's a good thing your father resigned from his job. Of course, we're losing a bit of income, but he was unhappy... Why do something that makes you miserable? I'm so glad he's going to do something that he's passionate about. I wish..." Most of the conversation I had already forgotten, but at least I remembered the most important part.

And it was that part that made me realized what future I would follow.

Time to get those typing fingers working again

Well, it's been a nice, relaxing four month vacation from Sims and writing...and I believe I have found my mojo again.

I've worked on a couple ideas after my computer got upgraded and I found that I didn't back up everything of my Sims that I should have, so I've thought of some stuff to tie up some loose ends, but I focused more on continuing on to generation 5. It has made me really excited, so yeah, I wanna get back into the writing game!

Problem is...I don't know how many readers I have left after that LONG break. So if you still want to see some of this legacy, pretty please, leave a comment. :)

This is the beautiful simmie that I've been working on, and I love her to bits. <3 This isn't what she looks like anymore (her hair is a different color), but it's the basic idea.

(Feedback would also be appreciated....like I dunno, if I should just give up, move to Wordpress or start something new)