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Monday morning was the worst. Sure, it happened once a week, and by now they should be used to it; but it was just terrible. What better way to ruin a good weekend then to have to wake up to Monday?

Rini sat with her hand pressed against her temple. She could hardly keep awake.

She didn't even hear the announcements. After she sat down from the pledge, whatever they said just sounded like it came from Mrs. Donovan. Worse, she was anxious as to what was going to happen very soon.

She remembered vividly what had happened on Friday. Being sent to Mr. Pretty's office was something she had never fathomed would happen to her. Sure, she wasn't a pure angel... she was willing to admit that. But the Principal's office was for bad kids, like Ritzer. She watched the lion cub, sitting next to the teacher's desk.

She felt so helpless, unable to explain why she was there. She had never been more frightened in her life. Worse, there was a big commotion because she didn't have a pass, and so the Principal was a bit angry that she wasn't explaining why she was bothering him.

She shivered. Just don't think about it.

As the announcements ended, Ms. Hupp shut the door quietly, almost to a point.

Rini felt her unease bubble in her chest. She glanced behind her. She was the only one in her row; the other seats were vacant, especially the one in the very back.

"Good morning, everyone."

Ms. Hupp was speaking more quietly than she usually did on a Monday morning. She was always chipper like a chipmunk, despite her being a raccoon, as if trying to force her students to wake up faster by being that way. But this morning, she was noticeably more subdued.

"How was everybody's weekend?"

There were mostly grumbles; the usual answer to that question.

"Good. Emeral?"

The tigress turned her attention. "Y--yes?" She asked, a bit nervously. It wasn't like their teacher to call out a student so early. She wasn't doing anything wrong... was she?

"Do you know where Lyza is? Is she not in today?"

"Oh..." The tigress sat up straighter. "Um... I dunno. I didn't really talk to her recently..."

"I see." Ms. Hupp nodded.

Suddenly Emeral felt a bit awful. Even if she had spent some time with her friend over Spring Break, she could at least call every now and again. She did have a cellphone...

"Well, in any case. Class. I'd like to apologize for the way I acted last Friday. I know it's not really an excuse, but I wasn't entirely myself. I know it was very out-of-character of me, so I'm very sorry. Hopefully that's the only migraine I get for a long time." She took in a breath. "And Rini, I'm especially sorry to you. I talked with Mr. Pretty, and cleared everything up--so you don't have to worry about being in trouble or anything, okay?"

"K--kay." The rat managed to choke out. She looked down at her desk, though, unable to meet her teacher's gaze. Once again, she remembered the absence behind her. She was suddenly worried. A memory came to her, of how Lyza used to be absent quite a lot in second grade.

The aluminum clack_ed as Ms. Hupp hastily, but awkwardly, retrieved an _Expo marker from the whiteboard's tray.

"Well... I guess we should get started with the day."

* * *

Lyza's eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright.

She slept in through the start of school--for real this time!

She threw her covers off, and leapt to the ground, eager to make up for lost time. But as her feet hit the floor, she did not find any traction--she just kept going. "Ahhh!"

Thud!

Footsteps pounded toward her room, the door opened. "Sis!?"

Kval looked into his sister's room. She was lying flat on her back, groaning. About her floor were scores of papers. A select few were crumpled and torn right by her feet, one even curled up over the toes of her left sock.

He gingerly stepped in, extending a hand to help her up.

"Ow..." She grumbled, rubbing her hiney as she stood.

"Are you okay?"

"What's with all these papers everywhere!" She yelled, stifling back tears.

Kval embraced his sister, rubbing her back to soothe her. "I could ask you the same thing," he joked. "You had quite a wake-up didn'tya?"

"I'm late for school," she grumbled, trying to break away. "Unless you're being a fart-head again. It's not a holiday is it?"

Kval shook his head. "Nope. You slept in."

She pulled on an ear. "Dang it." She went over to her closet, and started looking at what she would wear. "If it's not a holiday why are you still here?"

"High school is taking the RSBTs this week," he replied, beginning to pick up some of the papers off the floor. "I did all of that last year. Now that I'm a senior, I get to have the morning off."

"You're lucky," she said, a little bit jealous. She pulled a green shirt with a few flower-designs on it. "Will taking me to school cut too much into your free-time?" She asked, feeling guilty he would have to because she slept in.

"Yep." He said.

She gave him a look. Now wasn't the time for his jokes. "Look, I'm sorry--"

"I understand." He cut her off. "But... you're not going to school today."

She looked at him quizzically, and then her face contorted to a bit of anger. She threw her shirt back. "Why not?" She questioned.

He looked at her with his lips ajar, and then closed them. "C'mere," he said, patting his knees.

She took a moment before she stepped over to him. Sitting beside him, she leaned back to rest on her palms.

She looked tired to him. Like even the sleep she managed to get wasn't very deep. "You feeling okay?" He asked.

"Yeah." She said. "I hate sleeping in. I just feel weird... like I'm doing something bad."

"Why'd you sleep in?" He asked.

But she could tell it was rhetorical. She looked out at her room. "I guess... I stayed up too late."

"Trying to bury your room in paper?"

Her ears leaned forward after she shook her head. "No I was... just studying."

"You've been doing a lot of that lately, huh?"

He was still being rhetorical.

"Yeah." She stated. "The RSBTs are coming up... " She leaned forward, picking up a piece of paper. "And I have to bring my grades up..."

"Hey, sis?"

She looked at him blankly.

"Take a break from it, okay? Life isn't all about getting an 'A'. I want you to take it easy today; watch some TV, play on the computer, take a nice hot bath."

"But I'd be skipping school..." She stated, setting the paper down.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes missing school is okay. If I bring a puzzle when I come back, you wanna put it together with me?"

"Where are you going?" She asked.

He smiled, standing up. "I just gotta run an errand. I won't be gone long, okay? Then we'll find something fun to do. You can get at least one day of your weekend back."

"Okay." She said, though any enthusiasm hadn't set in yet.

"I'd better not find you studying--or cleaning up. I'll help you do that later tonight."

"Yes, sir," she muttered. She wasn't quite sure how to feel... today was going to be a weird day.

* * *

Though April was still a few days away, the clouds were feeling eager. A sun shower had begun. The sky above looked a lot like a sooted lens, broken into several pieces where the sunlight shone through. It was a little too high to caste a full rainbow, but here and there a ribbon of color could be glimpsed far in the horizon.

Lightning flickered across the sky, and subdued crackles of thunder cackled overhead. It gave the sense of a storm happening far away, and yet it was right above the head.

The wind was warm and gusty, lifting and stirring debris just off the ground. Trees wiggled about, leaves rippling like seaweed in the turbulent reef. Now and again, when the sun was allowed to shine upon them, a shadow was defined on the wet ground, which usually lasted only a second or two before blurring and fading away.

Concrete turned from white or gray to a dark brownish-red or grungy black. The horizon turned to green instead of blue. Bright, vibrant colors of whipping balloons, sale-tents and traffic lights were sapped of their usual saturation; left bland and mundane.

As the streets shined with glossy, oily water, the sound of speeding cars echoed in the ears of the rabbit as he drove. Having hit a dry spot, he let his window drop. The world was oddly quiet, save for that whipping echo of the cars passing the intersection. Their tires splashed in the shallow puddles, spraying water into the air.

A few brave souls dared to walk in the weather, either from an ill-planned commute or out of necessity. They were old, wrapped in light jackets and the woman with a scarf around her face. It did not seem that chilly for her to wear such a garment, but it was not overly hot either.

They crossed the right-turn lane onto the pork-chop, and once the light turned green they were able to cross.

Kval took the turn behind them, it having been blocked off by the car in front of him pulling out of the lot to his right. The pile-of-rocks decided he wanted to gun it to get ahead of him. That happened for all of three seconds until the light turned red, and rather than let him through the people in the straight-lane just ignored the idiot with a death-wish.

But it wasn't like Kval was in any kind of hurry. Not where he was going. It wasn't a place where time mattered. So still and permanent. It hadn't changed, not in the two years since he started visiting it. He always saw the wrought-iron fence as he approached. All around, nothing but flat land and the occasional tree. A half-hour's drive outside the city was such a drastic difference; but a peaceful one.

He navigated to the white-rock parking lot--if it could be called that. There were no lines to mark one's personal parking space. No indication of how one should park about the perimeter or within the ambiguous interior. No turtarriers to prevent a car from going too far and out on the grass.

Luckily for Kval, there was only one other car to compete with; and likely no more to come. So, there was no need to worry so much about what was correct or incorrect; so long as he was reasonable, which he always was.

He opened his car door. The rain came down gently, just more than a drizzle. Not enough to really feel an individual drop, but more than enough to wet the skin beneath his fur. He quickly went to the back door, and retrieved his windbreaker. He also retrieved a small plastic grocery bag, giving it a half-tie to keep the contents relatively dry.

Shutting the door with a muffled thump, he listened as the car locked with the push of his keyfob. He walked toward the lone building. It was old, yet still a very impressive structure. Even amidst the fleeting sunlight it remained dark, as if constructed from obsidian. But the building was neither painted nor stone; it was simply the nature of the wood.

The wet and gritty crunch of the stones gave way to the thumps of wood as he stepped upon the ground-level porch. He paused, looking upon the entrance. Etched into the door, in a cursive script so dark it was probably missed by most everyone except those who were truly keen and attentive to such detail, was a message in Latin: Ad lucem e terris via; ad meliora; ad maiorem Dei gloriam.

Had he paid more attention in his Latin class, he might have a chance at understanding more than just a couple of words. And yet, without understanding it, the spell it caste upon the reader still held strong. It imbued a sense of clarity, and humility. It was especially effective the second, and now the third time he had read the spell.

He entered.

The familiar bell marked his arrival, but presently not a soul was in the room to greet him--none that he could see, at any rate. The door opened to a narrow foyer that extended to the left and right. At either end of this foyer were stained-glass windows, embellished with abstract depictions of cherubs and angels. Anterior to the windows were small tables, with candles upon them. These spaces were large enough to accommodate no more than two or three individuals talking closely to one another.

The scent of vanilla was faintly lingering to his left. That side of the foyer must have been used recently. The right window was dim while the left captured what little light there was, giving the small chamber a polar atmosphere. Raindrops peppered both, distinctly audible against the utter silence.

Separating the foyer from the main hall was a wall that was solid at the bottom and top, and had wood slats across the middle. They gave the appearance of a cage, separated a few inches from each other. Or perhaps it was meant to be a decorative form of privacy.

He stepped through the foyer and made his way down the center aisle of the main room. With each step, his shoes made a soft, muffled tamping noise upon the thick, flat carpet. It was colored red beneath his feet and everywhere else, except for the small squares on either side of him. In these squares were pews, but not situated as one would find in a church. They were in pairs facing inward toward each other, three sets on either side. Between each pair was a long table which stood from a solid central support, rather than four legs, colored dark-chocolate just like the rest of the house.

Upon each table were several common religious books. More were organized at each "station," in small book cases set against the wall.

Above his head, Kval had to avoid bumping against three chandeliers, which were the main illumination for the center of the room. The majority of light filtered through yet more stained-glass windows on the walls, as well as dormant candles upon the tables. However, the candles were merely for aesthetics, as there was also a small wire lamp on the tables.

Kval made his way to the back of the room. The back wall had several shelves filled with books, religious artifacts, and plenty of wiggling candle-wicks. These were unscented, but the smell of incense was prominent about this half of the room, and a tray filled with ash rested upon the bottom shelf against the wall.

Between Kval and that wall was a counter. Upon the counter, at the center, was a book. Beside the book, balancing magnetically upon its stand, was a pen. Kval plucked the pen from its home, and opened the book.

Just as he did so, a commotion came from the door to his right. Even as the man stepped through the door, Kval patiently kept signing his presence into the ledger.

"I see." Came a very quiet, deliberate voice. "Has it really been a year, already?"

Kval smiled, finishing the last stroke of his name. "Hello, Gabriel," the rabbit said, finally addressing the man.

Gabriel smiled as the rabbit turned to him. He put his fingers onto the lip of his top-hat, dipping it gently as he inclined his chin in a nod. "Good afternoon, Master Kval."

It was Gabriel's way to call everyone Master, for no other reason than his own desire to show humility and respect for those who were able to sign their presence into his ledger.

Gabriel was a very white cat. His fur had such a sheen to it that he had the appearance of a ghost, especially in the candlelight. Though only his face gave this impression, for that was all that could be seen of his natural form. The rest was covered. He wore a coat, always; either black or dark brown. He wore shoes and gloves to match. His top hat was an icon, and showed many signs of wear and tear. Across the top, an obvious seam marked where it had torn almost all the way round, and had been restitched into place by hand.

Though he admitted it to few people, these adornments were solely to cover up his flaws. He was gifted in height, for he stood nearly two heads taller than Kval himself. Yet he suffered from quite a bit of atrophy, in his hands and ears and some upper-torso muscles.

There was also one more peculiar thing about Gabriel, which Kval had to address. He did this by pulling the lower lid of his right eye downward, and looking down.

Gabriel seemed to catch on right away. "I beg your pardon!" He once again pulled the lip of his top-hat over, concealing his right eye behind the gesture, and turned about. "I was in such a hurry to see who had arrived... a moment, ahem." He coughed, his hands appearing to fidget with something. He worked with the object for a moment, and then gave another loud cough. However, it did not quite cover the hollow sound of something popping back into place.

When he turned, he smiled, blinking--yet only his left eye blinked. The right stared blankly, its cold glass reflecting the candles' flames clearly. He chose for his dead eye to have the color of his living, albeit the blue was much darker, as if to signify the eye's lifeless nature.

"Are you not graduating this year?" The feline spoke, his black-gloved hands coming together. "I do believe you are a senior, are you not?"

"That's correct, sir."

"Congratulations." Gabriel said with another dip of his hat. "I am happy to see such a young man as yourself begin the next step of the journey."

"Thank you, Gabriel." Kval's smile faded just slightly. "I only wish that was true for everyone."

The man nodded. "It is tragic, I agree. I do hope my words are not offensive, it just--"

Kval held up his hand and shook his head.

Gabriel smiled, contentedly. "Good." He released his clasped hands and let them to his sides. "It is raining out. Shall I fetch you an umbrella?"

"No sir, that's all right."

"Understood." The feline dipped his hat once more. "I shall leave you to your business. Please, take your time, there is no rush here. Should you need me, I will be here."

"Thank you Gabriel," the rabbit spoke, and the feline once more dipped his hat.

Gabriel looked about the room, as if to make sure everything was in order, and then proceeded back into the door from whence he earlier came.

As the jamb of the door clacked into place, Kval gripped the plastic handles of the bag. It rustled as it shifted. With slow steps, he went to a door to the left, opposite where Gabriel had emerged. It had an ornate knob, with a glass dodecahedron serving as the bulb. It was stained an amber color, and had a few scratches upon it, which had been smoothed down to prevent cutting.

With a heavy breath, he opened the door.

The rain had picked up. The wind whipped for a brief moment, setting off a chorus of chimes all about outside. The door creaked as he slowly shut it behind him. The small, enclosed porch offered a little protection from the weather, but the wind made it so the rain was blown under the lee.

As he began to walk upon the cobblestone path, his face and hands and shoulders were slicked with water. It threatened to leak into his eyes, but frequent blinking and squinting kept most of the water running down the sides or against the crook of his muzzle.

The sun was no longer as prominently out as before; a dark monolithic cloud had taken dominance over the heavens. The rain began to blur everything at several yards, giving a sense of isolation and solitude. The verdant lawn, contained within the wrought-iron gate, began to smell sweet and earthly. Several potted flowers, or gently laid roses, added meekly to the powerful smell of the rich, supple soil.

The rabbit made his way past dozens of headstones. The spell he had invoked upon himself before began to magnify with each gritty step he took. The wind blew once more, changing the side of him that felt the brunt of the drizzle. He shivered, the plastic bag hooked on his arm rattling more because of him.

Finally, he stopped. The walk was not very far, and yet he could no longer see the house clearly. He could tell where it was, but it was amidst the growing fog and distorted rain. He looked upon the headstone that was plain and simple before him. It had no decoration, no flowers, no memorable offerings.

He stepped off the path onto the grass. The bag was set down upon the ground, and a gentle crunch of the grass marked when the rabbit's knees hit the earth. He knelt, reaching his hand to the headstone. It was cold and rough to his touch.

"Hey, ... Jimmy."

A gentle rumble of thunder resounded across the sky.

Upon the headstone, the name Jameson Benjamin Mills was just barely etched into the stone. Had it not been raining, and had the water not begun to collect inside the letters, it would have been much more difficult to read. The dates upon the stone marked the grave of a fifteen-year-old boy, just a couple of months away from hitting his next age.

Kval reached into the bag, and pulled out the single content. The package of Sour Gummy Worms was difficult to open with his wet hands. He had to bite the corner, ripping it. Finally opened, he reached in, and plucked a worm. It was green and red, dimpled with sour crystals.

"Your favorite," the rabbit commented, resting the worm upon the ground just a quarter-foot before the headstone. He reached into his pocket, his thumb and index finger pinching upon a small object inside. He brought his hand out, and moved it to the headstone. The top was arched, but he was able to balance the little warped piece of copper upon the apex.

"A lot's... a lot's happened since... we last talked," he said, reaching for another worm; this time for himself. He must have cut his tongue; he winced as the sourness hurt a particularly sore spot. "But... things are still as they should be. I'm still keeping my promise."

He fished another. This worm was yellow and purple. He placed it with the first on the ground. "I've done a lot of good, it feels like. Not enough... but a lot. I think mom and dad finally trust me, at least a lot more than they did since last time."

He ate another worm himself, wincing from the sting of his tongue.

"Buggy came back. He hasn't changed. He tried really hard to change me back... but there's no way I want to go back." He squeezed the bag. "There's no way." His grip relaxed. "I'm doing really well in school. The medical field was pretty interesting to me, I took a class in pharmacology. But..."

He took a moment to set another worm with its friends upon the ground. The first was already beginning to dissolve, averse to the rain as it was.

"I knew for a while what I really wanted to do with my life. And recently... something happened that made me realize I should do it--that I have to do it."

He moved so that he was sitting cross-legged, the bag of Gummy Worms at the crux of his ankles.

"It's a long story, but... I think you should hear it. See... I took my sister to a camp just a little while ago.She's growing up so fast, Jim. You'd be glad; she's been much happier the last couple years. She hasn't skipped school at all in over a year now--well, except today. I let her skip today.

"But lately... she's been... Well, hang on, I have to tell you about Danny. So, we went to this place called Camp Connalake." He reached into the bag, and set a fourth worm upon the ground. "A few days in, I was trying to sleep. There were these kids in the woods, they were sneaking around and talking. I caught one of them, tried to figure out what they were doing. They were going to try weed. But, it was faked. I knew it was, right away. It didn't look right at all and I even showed the kid by wrapping it and burning it."

He chuckled, more out of nervousness than anything. "I thought it was done. The kid was fooled and he felt stupid--maybe he wouldn't try it again. But then... I found out something terrible, Jim. I wish... it hadn't happened. I really wish he'd said no, but--Danny... somehow agreed to... give up his innocence for it."

Overhead, the roar and boom of an airplane shot across the sky. The wavering hiss of its engines was magnified by the lower clouds. It could not be seen, and the rabbit did not look up. He took another candied worm from the bag, joining it with the first four on the grass. He waited until the last remnant sounds of the plane faded away to a roiling distant wind before he spoke again.

"The old part of me... It keeps saying Danny did something stupid. But thinking that is wrong I know--I wish I could get rid of that, but all I can do is counter it. I know it's not Danny's fault. He's the victim; he didn't fully understand what he was doing. I could tell... I could see it in his eyes. When he found out the weed was fake... that everything was fake..."

The young adult rubbed the water from his eyes.

"The look on his face, Jim. It was so familiar. That moment... when he realized everything he understood and believed was... replaced by reality. I felt it again. Only this time... it was different. I think... It was like I could see the future..."

Another worm popped into his mouth. He let the sting bathe his tongue.

"It was like... I could see all these paths his life could take. And it was up to me to help him on the right one. I did... I think. We told his mom. By now... maybe they've caught the... person, who convinced him. Maybe he's behind bars already... or, the old me wants him dead."

The rabbit shivered.

"It feels weird, saying that so casually. But... I guess at least the old me has some morals."

A sixth worm joined its friends upon the earth.

"And that whole thing made me realize how much I want to help kids like him--before that happens to them. I want to know why he made that choice. I wish I could go to that moment of his life and... help him. Save him. Keep it from ever happening."

He took a breath, adjusting his legs. His jeans were now soaked, difficult to move. He would probably look silly, walking around with wet pants, especially the rear. But he wasn't going anywhere else today, except home where he could change, so he unabashedly leaned back on his palms.

The rain actually began to let up. Not by much, but enough that he didn't have to worry about it getting into his eyes again.

"But... I know what you really want to hear about." The rabbit said with a smile. "I told you already, though; I'm still keeping my promise. She's been so much better, Jim. It feels good to be a positive influence in her life, much more than the... thing... that I was before.

"But..." He sat up a little. "I'm starting to see something change in her. It just happened, just recently. She's growing up, Jim. She's... just growing up. And I hate it!" He hit the ground. "I don't want it to happen--not yet!"

The distant thunder boomed.

He pulled at the lawn, gripping a few blades in his fist.

"She's... starting to get conscious of herself. She's comparing herself to others... she's feeling negative. I can't stand it!" He pulled his hand up, ripping the blades of grass into the air, and slammed the ground again. The bag fell. He picked it back up, taking a worm out. He bit its head off, and then consumed the rest of it.

"I want her back, Jim; I want my little Lyzy again. I want to go back and do it differently. She's starting to grow up--but she never even had a childhood! I took it. Robbed her of it. I know I did. And I thought... I thought I could make up for it... but now that she's starting to think this way... I know I've run out of time. I'm worried, Jim. I've tried to look for signs... I know deep down inside that... she's just a little--not... not broken, but..."

His hand went to his eyes again. Damn the rain.

"I'm afraid to trigger it. I can't stand to think of her breaking down or going down the wrong path. If she does, Jim, it's my fault. If she does... I failed. But I don't know what to do, Jim..."

A seventh worm was placed on the ground.

"I want her to be able to talk to me about it... but every time I think about the past I just remember... all the terrible things. I'll never be able to forget the scream she made when I broke her fingers. I still wake up to it at night..."

And just as it had been lessening the rain began to pick up again, this time the drizzle turning into a pour.

"But I'll try, Jim. I promise, I'll try." He reached for the piece of copper upon the grave, plucked it and placed it in his pocket. He waited a moment before he stood up, his legs stiff and cold. He shivered, soaked to the fur. He picked up the bag on the ground, fishing another worm for himself.

"I did a lot of thinking, Jim." He said, letting the sour on the worm soak into his mouth once more. "And I know what you'd say if you were still here." He plucked the last worm from the bag, and set one knee to the ground. He placed the eighth worm upon the pile. "But, it still feels like the one who pulled the trigger was..."

A flash of lightning flickered, like someone taking a photograph. Just a second later, a sound like that of a gunshot echoed across the sky.

"Me."