Cause and Effect

Part 33

A/N: Oliver (AHHH this sexy beast) above. Enjoy.

~Elizabeth~

My list of shit that never could have been predicted is not something you want to see.

The list that qualifies for situations to be the most fucked up they could be is a fairly short one, for me. So when something makes the list, I freak out a little bit. The situation at the top of my list was my current problem.

The blood we found where Brent was attacked, belonged to the one and only Harold Dickson. I know what you are thinking; it is one of two (or both) questions.

1. Why did it take so long to get the blood results?

2. What the hell are you just standing there for? Go arrest him!

Well, the results took forever to get them because, due to the fact that we don't have the kind of forensic equipment one would need to test the blood, we ('we' being Berry and I) had to call in a secret favor from a good friend of his who is a forensic scientist. It has been a few days, but Berry's friend has lived up to his promise.

As for why we haven't arrested him is based on pure fact: we don't have the evidence. Yes, we have some blood, but that could have easily been planted. Also, Mr. Dickson is an extremely powerful man. If one were to screw him over, they could disappear off the face of the earth without anybody questioning it.

You can see why this would make my "Fuck-I'm-So-Screwed List".

As I tried to control my rapid breathing, I looked over my friends faces. Nobody bothered to hide the shock they were feeling. I wondered why Harold would want to kill Lilly... Just at the thought of her name, my throat closed with emotion.

The dull ache in my stomach grew until it was a pound that coursed through my body. The ache is always there, waiting to be pronounced and expressed. I had a slight tremble to my hands as I pictured my beautiful best friend.

Ally whimpered slightly and we all whipped our heads to her.

Ally whimpered slightly.

Ally whimpered.

Ally was showing the pain that she felt.

Well slap my ass and call me Sally, this was heartbreaking.

I watched as Daniel wrapped a long arm around her short figure. She buried her head in his chest and curled her legs up underneath her. I thought back to the funeral, remembering how Ally's face was void of all emotion. Harold hadn't invited us, but we watched and cried from afar.

Unlike Ally and Brent, I allowed my emotions to show. If you fight the anger and tears you have, they just get stronger. You have to show your emotions, it's human. It is in your nature.

You know what sucks?

Being human.

Honestly, we walk this earth, destroying every sign of happiness we see. It is a constant scavenger hunt as we search for something in this dark world to lighten a path to contentment. Most don't find their true light and just pretend they do as they aimlessly stumble in the dark.

I am currently stumbling in the blackness we call life, attempting to make my way to the soft, nearly invisible glow of happiness at the end of my path. But every day the sicko who killed Lilly continues to breathe easily (also known as without my hands wrapped around their neck) the luminescent light flickers a little more.

"Well, you guys know what we do, now, right?" Brent said, continuing to drink. She was now slightly drunk and gestures openly with her beer bottle. I find it odd that she is drinking this, considering Jack Daniels is normally her source of comfort.