I'm back again. Are you all relieved? I thought so. ;P So anyway here is the next chapter. Not much to say about it, so just enjoy. Then at the end tell me what you thought. *************************************************************************** Title: Falling of an Angel Author: Dreamer Rating: PG Disclaimer: you know the drill E-mail: Dreamer3@optonline.net I sighed and let my black bag slip from my fingers and fall heavily to the floor as I shut the door behind me. My legs moved mechanically across the white-carpeted ground and to the kitchen. I never understood why my parents choose white for the carpet. If you spilled anything, the stain was so visible. I stood on my toes and reached into the brown, wooden upper cabinet. From the corner of my eye I could see the small, blinking, red light. I frowned at it as I pulled out a box of macaroni and cheese. I moved over to the answering machine, situated between the wall and the coffee pot. I stared at it for a moment, feeling dumb of what to do next. I knew what the message was. I knew what it was when I first walked into the house. I could already hear the bleak feminine voice... My finger pressed down on the button marked 'play' and I walked over to the sink where a saucepan sat. A click sounded as I turned on the water and a female voice began to speak. "Usagi, Shingo I'm really sorry," Aren't you always, I thought with grim humor. "But I'm working really late tonight and I probably won't be home til' at least ten. I'm really sorry. There is plenty to eat for dinner so, dig in. Maybe you could make something special, Usagi. " I looked down at the sad, blue box macaroni in my hands, then tore it open and poured it in the bubbling water. Her voice had sounded horrible , pathetic even. She sounded like she was talking to a five year old whose trip to Disney world had just been cancelled. And she was suggesting a board game. I picked up a plastic spoon and swirled it through the heavy water. Mom was working two jobs to support Shingo and I. Everyday I saw her she looked older. Which, sadly, hadn't been too often. I lifted the heavy saucepan and dumped it into the straining bowl. I watched as steam rose up from it, like lost souls floating to the heavens . I hadn't heard a word from dad since...that night. And I sincerely doubted I would. My face contorted and I took in a shaky breath. I lifted the cap off the milk and gently poured it in. Then I added the cheese packet and mixed, but my eyes stared impassively at the drab off-white wall. I felt the warm sun gently kiss my cheek. A groan escaped me and squeezed my eyes tighter. The musical chirp of a bird sounded through the window and abruptly, I flung my body upright. I squinted about the bright, pink room. I groaned again. My body ached. I felt sick. My bare feet scraped along the rough surface of the floor as I slumped to my dresser. I dropped my boneless figure against the hard wood, leaning my weak muscles on it. I pulled my head up to meet the face of a pale, sickly girl. Her eyes were disgusting and puffy. Her hair was greasy and knotted. I turned away from the dismal figure. I had cried myself to sleep last night. My face felt hard and filth ridden and my eyes felt sore and small. A yawn escaped through my mouth as I made my way down the stairs. My right arm skimmed the corner of the wall as I turned into the living room. "Usagi." I stopped. "Yes?" I replied, not turning around. "Can you come in here? I need to talk to you" came my mother's voice from the dining room. Her tone made a chill run down my spine. I hesitated, and then forced my body into motion. I stood in the doorway for a moment and looked in. Mom was leaning against the counter, staring down at her slippers. Shingo looked up from the table at me. For a brief moment I felt like I was on one of those stupid family shows. I walked in and sat down at the table next to Shingo. I small hope ran through me that this was all a joke and mom would fling her head up and yell 'gotcha!' Or maybe this was just about my grades, or maybe we were just moving, or maybe we all just had some terminal illness... "Shingo, Usagi" my mother began, still not looking up. My hopes began to fade. "I have something to tell both of you," she raised her head to look at us "last night I talked to your father." I stiffened in my chair. Oh Gods. "We had a thorough conversation. Then we decided that it was in the best interests of you, us, the family, everyone that we...separate for a while." I felt my face pale and my stomach drop. Oh Gods. I had known it was coming. I had known since that night and that phone conversation. But it wasn't until the words actually hit the air did I believe it. I looked down at my pot of macaroni and cheese. I limply moved one with my fork. My appetite was suddenly diminished. I placed my hand on the banister and moved up the stairs. I turned my body into the first room on the right. The walls were pink and vibrant. I moved over to my dresser were papers, books, pencils, scrunchies, even pieces of food lay. I reached into the mess and pulled out a dark book. 'Crosses'. The cover was a morbid distorted picture of a girl with shattered glass around her. I had read it for school. It was about a cutting. The idea had been absurd. But at the same time understandable. Logically understandable, to use physical pain to ease the emotional, to make yourself feel like you have some sort of control. Haruna-sensei had told me it was all psychological. I glanced around my room. There were so many things a person like that could use. Gently, I sat the book back down on the top of the pile. Then walked over and sat onto my bed. I let my eyes relax and lay unfocused on the wooden posts of my bed. Abruptly, a small shrill sound invaded my senses, breaking the silence. I turned my head towards my side dresser near my bed. The sound came again. I stared silently at my white phone, with its childish stickers I had plastered over it last year. My body felt numb and paralyzed. Again the sound came. I lifted my heavy arm and reached out. My hand moved on it's own. Its five thin extensions stretched out and captured the receiver, then brought its prey to my face. "Moshi-moshi" I said hesitantly. I waited silently for an answer. "Moshi-moshi?" I said again. No answer. I brought the phone away from my ear and looked at it. Bing! The sound came again. What? I thought. I looked cautiously around my shallow room. My eyes landed on the wicker basket peeking out from under my bed and my stomach sank . I reached down and picked up the pink communicator that lay next to my transformation broche that I had stopped wearing on my school uniform. I pressed my thumb down on the communication button and with a beep a blue haired head manifested onto the miniature screen. "Usachan?" came Ami's questioning voice, "Why did it take you so long to answer? Is everything alright?" I looked at her through the blurred transmission. For a fleeting moment I thought about revealing everything to her right that second. "Yes" I said, "I'm fine" "Ok" she answered, "we have a senshi meeting at 7:00, ok?" "Alright" I cut off the connection before she could say another word. I felt like hurling the damned device across the room. My stomach twisted more with every step I took up to the Cherry Hill Temple. I really didn't feel like doing this right now. On my long walk here I thought of going back and telling them I was sick and wouldn't be able to make it after all. Then they would ask why I said I could go in the first place, or worse, offer to come to my house. That was the answer that came to every one of my excuses. So my legs kept moving. I checked my watch as I stood in front of the thin door. 7:30. Whispers drifted through the thin door and into my ears. I brought my face closer. I knew I was late and the others were probably already there, so I should have just walked in, sat down and joined the conversation. But the mumbled sounds of what they were speaking of caught my attention and kept me on the outside of the door. A new sickness over took me. They were talking about 'me'. "Yeah, I guess" came Makato's powerful but unsure voice. "You know, now that I think about it, she has been acting kind of.... strange lately." said Ami. "Why doesn't she just talk to us?" demanded Rei. She sounded angry. "We're supposed to be her friends, right?" "I'm sure if anything was wrong she would talk to us," countered Makato. "And she has seemed pretty distant..." "I wish she would just make an attempt-" "She will when she wants to. It's really none-" I flew back down the steps. Hot tears stung my eyes, but I pushed them back. How could they? They were talking about me behind my back. A thought hit me as I slowed my pace through the dark night. Did they want me to hear? They knew I was coming. Maybe that was it. Maybe they had planned it all out. I chocked on the thought and fought back the new onslaught of tears. I quickened my stride and pushed those thoughts away. I didn't want to think about it anymore. All I wanted was to get back- Ooof! I stumbled backwards away from the tall blockade that stood in my way. I quickly wiped my forearm across my eyes. Then mumbled and apology and side stepped around the figure. "Odango Atama?" I stopped. "You shouldn't be out so late." I turned around to face a dark-haired man in blue jeans and a black shirt. Mamorou. I looked up at him. I knew he was one of the last people I should have wanted to see right now, but...But a part of me just wanted fall against him and let the tears trickle down my face. "Besides" he said with a smirk, "isn't it a school night." A small sense of disappointment ran up my spine. "Odango?" he questioned. His steel blue eyes bore into mine. "You look like crap," he stated. I hung my head down. I could feel him step closer to me. "Are you alright?" His sudden change of tone forced my head up. It could have almost been mistaken as concern. But I knew better than that. I knew Mamorou too long to be fooled now. Not while I was in such a weak state. Tears slipped through my defenses and slid down my cheeks. That would be so like him, to do something like that. "Just leave me alone" I choked out. Then turned and ran off in the opposite direction. Breathing hard, I grabbed onto the ledge of my window and began to pull myself up. For many reasons I had chosen not to go through the front door. One, I was still crying and I looked awful. Even Mamorou had noticed that. If Shingo or anyone saw me, they would ask questions that I really wasn't in any mood to have to deal with. Besides, it was late and I was tired. All I wanted was to go to sleep. Maybe I would even play sick tomorrow from school. I reached my leg over the windowsill and sat for moment on its small ledge. Where have you been?" A deep male voice asked. I jumped off my ledge and swung my head about the dark room. Fear crept up my back. This was definitely not what I needed right now. What will happen next? Who is in Usagi's room waiting for her? Is is a phsycopathic murderer? Mamarou? Or is just Usagi's crazed mind? Find out on the next Falling of an Angel. Ok, that was kinda lame. But, whatever. Just e-mail me. =)