Head Strong.

Punk. (Chapter 34.)

And so it began! He had a gun and really bad sword moves, and I had a sword, and crazy combat skills. We started fighting in the middle of what Uncle Al had told me was the Ballroom, old fashioned, I know, but still.

Then we made our way through the crowd. They all parted, clearly, and amongst the faces, I saw Lance. Up the stairs we went, with Bruce being in the vulnerable position of going down the stairs, head first.

"Bobbi, you were a mistake!"

He was obviously trying to psyche me out.

"What does that make you? A big mistake with no balls?" I lunged at him.

"Oh that's it you little bitch!"

"Someone call 9-1-1!" A guest called out, as I slid down the banister, and ran for the door opposite.

"Just keep partying everyone! I'm sure Bobbi and Bruce will return soon, and this whole mess will be resolved..." I heard Uncle Al call out.

"Not really!" I yelled from where we were battling.

How we didn't break anything is a question beyond me. the only real damage was to his suit, arms, and legs. And the odd curtain tear.

"Your just like your mother! Weak and feeble! Useless to this world!" He said, trying to cut my leg.

"You don't know anything about me! And if that's what I am, then I feel sorry for anyone that knows you! They must be really depressed whenever they see you!"

"You can't even make any good come backs! How stupid can a little girl be?!" He roared with such cruel laughter, and the messed up idiot even dropped his defences.

There was the chance, and I took it.

Time seem to slow down as I slid the sword into his clothes, past his skin, and out the other side.

"Bitch." was all he said. Then he died.

"What have I done?!" I screamed as I crumbled to me knees.

The blood was pooling everywhere and it soaked the knee patches of my jeans.

My uncle came rushing through the door. He put a hand to his mouth.

"Bobbi...What have you done?"

"I...don't know..." I felt the water in my eyes just fall continuously.

Then Pierre came in. He looked at the situation. Then he walked over calmly and took me by the hand.

He lead me back to my room. "Here, let's get you all packed up for Australia."

I looked at him. "What? No, I have to go to jail. I have to follow the law-"

He stopped and bent down a little so we saw eye-to-eye.

His looked exactly like Marc's.

"Bobbi, your mother has been killed, and you just took out California's worst fugitive. I think the cops can forgive you a little bit for that. Do you want to call up Marc and tell him your coming home?" Pierre asked gently. "I've been thinking of going back to Oz for a while now and now I have the perfect excuse."

I sniffed then nodded.

As we walked back to my room, we pasted Lance,

"Murderer." He said, more snarky then I could ever imagine.

"Heartless son of a bitch! That should have been you!" Pierre yelled at him.

"How can someone be so fucking heartless?" I asked, not caring about the answer, as Pierre and I walked on.

It astounded me the respect that guy had. It was lower then anything else that I could think of at the time.