{Arms Unfolding}~ Q. Quagmire

Ch.8~

Pearla—

        I've risen into your beauty. So much that you've gotten me to rise into love with you, not fall. It didn't hurt, was not abrupt; but I assume that it could truly be deadly. My love.

                                      —Ira.

       Disregard the incidents that have been going on between me and the elder Quagmire boy. The reason for this is because we'd acted like nothing's happened, we don't ignore it, it just so happens not to be a topic of discussion.

       I thought about this as I read about this woman— Pearla— hiding a sack of sapphires in a remote location. Something about a needing them in a secret future. How can the future be a secret?

I suppose it always has been.

        This reminded me of my favorite sapphire earrings that my mother's husband... my other father...yeah, he gave me them when I was young. I guess it showed me that he cared so I liked having them on. I only trade them for hoops occasionally.

        In her file he said that she was thought of as a mad woman. She did have a husband, but they died together in what seemed to be a fire. That was proven to be false when the investigation lead police to believe they died together— bled out in there home. When interrogating neighbors they thought had a fight of some sort because the husband had gone for a business trip when they were having matrimonial issues.

        I've spent all of my day in my room reading these things. I tried my best to get over my illness as my fourth-eight hour period was almost up. Klaus came in here most of the time to keep me company and so did my girls. When I asked where the Quagmire brothers went the others told me, 'here and there'. Issy told me 'a project on the roof' whatever that meant. And I wouldn't know what that mean for a long time, or at least until the end of the semester. This wasn't the end of the semester, though.

        Back to my current situation, oh, the situation I'm in is no other than Carmelita Spats herself. She's just knocked on my door, but I didn't know it was her as I hid my papers and book quickly and got up to answer it. She smiled at me menacingly in her all pink glory...or reign of terror.

         I sighed before she spoke to me, "Good afternoon, Cakesniffer." She said better folding her arms behind her back and walking into my room. I rolled my eyes at her statement and presence.

         "Hello, Spats." I crossed my arms and put all my weight on my one foot, "I just dropped by to bring a not-so-chooseable- proposition to the table." Chooseable wasn't a word but I figured that didn't matter at the moment. I raised my left brow at her before asking, "what exactly are you proposing?"

        She laughed loudly as if the thought she had teeing in her head was the most amusing, "you will be doing my psychology homework for the rest of the semester." It was my turn to chuckle as I rested my hands on my hips.

"What do I get?"

        "I've noticed that you and your orphan  group miss nightly rehearsals often and since I'm Principal Nero's favorite student, it may be possible for me to make all of those absences go away." The thought was intriguing, that meant more research for the things brewing about my friends and I; more time for homework; and, especially, more sleep. Although, it was Carmelita, after all

"And if I decline?"

        "If you refuse or cause me to fail, I'll make the rest of your year a living hell. I'm talking bugs in your food, paint in your clothes, embarrassment in front of every boy in school, and no happy ending for you." She made a mocking 'boo hoo' face at me, wiping away fake tears for emphasis.