Chapter Four:

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Charlotte slid down into a chair. They were gone. Her overwhelming anger deflated like a balloon. Honestly, why did she blame him? It wasn't his fault. Not really. But he had been there and that couldn't be changed. No matter what. No matter how hard Charlotte tried to convince herself that it was all a bad dream. That she would wake up and find Xander bouncing Vega on his lap. What she wouldn't give to have a day, just one more day to laugh with them.

But bartering with death was only a myth. It existed in fairy tales, along with happy endings. No one could truly have a happy ending. Not really. No one could come back from the dead. No one could whip out a wand and say abracadabra, diddly-doo, bring everyone back from their doom!

So Charlotte was teetering on the edge of despair. She knew she should scramble away, as far as possible, from the dangerous cliff. She just couldn't bring herself to do it. Her family was her anchor.

She thought back to when she had gotten the terrible news. She had gotten bad news twice, actually. The first time, those dark days, when Charlotte was struck, watching the television. Such devastating news that would change her life forever. That was when she first learned that no one could perform miracles. No magician could rebuild those crumbling towers so perfectly so that not one glass shard or piece of rubble would remain. And certainly no magician could perform a trick such as bring the two most loved people up from that same rubble.

Charlotte had teetered hard on the edge of that cliff then, watching that screen as the news caster uttered those terrible words. She had been alone then, it felt like, even though the room was filled with gasps and deep breaths as all the other fifteen pairs of eyes watched the same screen with shock.

The rest had been a blur. Charlotte had to fill out paperwork, signing and confirming the deaths and accepting the money. But money didn't help. She felt dazed as she came to terms.

Her parents were dead.

Charlotte sat in the chair, remembering the monstrosity of her anger. The memories of her scribbling with black marker on the faces of all the al Qaeda members. She spent so much time seething with rage. She hadn't gone to class for a week, until Xander convinced her to. After all, she had only just started college. Afterwards, Charlotte found all of the pictures missing. Xander had thrown them away.

"Char, I'm sorry." He had said, wrapping his arms around her. "But you've got to be strong."

And she was. Xander was her safety net. Until a year ago. Then that net disappeared and Charlotte couldn't help but crumble. 


I'm sorry if this is getting depressing. I can't help it. 

Updates will be slow, due to recent events. I won't be able to get on as often. Thank you for your patience. Make sure to comment and vote!

~Eudora Perine 

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