Apart from my confused emotional state, all of us in Solitaria lived fairly normal lives for the next two weeks. There were only two things particularly out of the ordinary: Tia was a social outcast due to her treatment of Hannah, and I successfully got my revenge on Adam one evening.
After meeting as usual at the hall, he decided to visit Oswald and Anastasia for a few hours, while I went home. Seizing my opportunity, I snuck into his room and sat down at his laptop, where I spent a few minutes hacking into his MySpace account and sending peculiar comments to various people, as well as defacing his profile and changing his password. After I was done with that, I found a folder on his hard drive where his high scores and game data were stored for his favourite game, some car racing thing he played all the time, and deleted them. Then, to complete the humiliation, I played the game several times and set new high scores in my name.
I know, I know, it's all very juvenile and immature. A seventeen-year-old should have better revenge ideas than that. But gosh, at the time, it felt so good.
Grinning, I left the laptop exactly as I'd found it, and went back to my room to read and wait for him to notice my changes.



He came home later that evening, and as usual, I heard him go into his room, followed by the soft creak of his desk chair as he sat down on it.
I waited a few minutes…nothing.
What was he doing?
Then, the sound I was waiting for: a strangled bellow of shock and rage, followed by a thump (I wasn't sure what that was, perhaps he hit the computer?), and then stomping footsteps approaching my room. The door flew open. "What the hell, Ellie?" my brother fumed.
I looked up from my book innocently. "I don't know, Adam," I replied. "What is the hell?"
"You should know full well," he spat. "I just went to my MySpace to find my layout completely changed, comments asking why I was sending spam comments to people, particularly Anastasia, and a ton of photos in my album that I never put there. Of course, I only know this because I had to view my profile rather than logging into it, because someone has changed my password!"
I clicked my tongue in sympathy. "Bummer," I said. "Don't you just hate MySpace hackers?"
Adam seriously looked like he was about to kill me. Instead, he settled on swearing very colourfully at me, using a multitude of words that I'm sure my parents wouldn't have liked him to say.
I waited for the barrage of verbal assault to end, then said calmly, "Maybe you shouldn't go around locking people in store rooms with their enemies, and then never apologising."
Adam looked stunned. "That was frigging ages ago!" he spluttered.
"So you've had ages to say sorry, but you haven't," I said. "Plus, there are a whole lot of other annoying things you've done that have so far gone unpunished. I had some catching up to do."
"Change it back, Ellie, or I will seriously make your life hell," Adam threatened, furious. "Starting with telling Julian how much you're deeply in love with him."
Now it was my turn to be shocked. I actually felt the blood drain from my face.
"Wh—I'm not deeply in—" I spluttered, trying to form a basic sentence. "How did you know that!?" I bellowed finally, standing up.



Adam's expression changed from incensed to smug. "You should put a lock on that journal of yours," he said, nodding towards my 'Soltaria' story-journal that was lying on my desk. "It's just too interesting to resist. I had a ball reading it while you were at Amelia's a week or so ago for that sleepover."
Now I was angry. "How dare you read my private journal!" I yelled, enraged.
"How dare you mess up my MySpace!" Adam countered.
"I deleted your high scores and saved games in that car game of yours, too," I sneered, and watched his face spasm alarmingly.
"You what?"
"Maybe you should put a padlock on that laptop of yours," I said. "It's almost too interesting to resist."
Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open theatrically. "Well, you can start restoring my MySpace and game data, or Julian's going to get a fascinating phone call."
"And you can put that phone away," I countered, pulling my own phone out with equal dramatic flair, "or I'm telling Anastasia how much you love her."
Adam seemed to consider this for a moment. Checkmate, I thought.
He narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze flicking between my face and the phone I brandished in my hand. I just glared fixedly at him, hoping to wear him down with my penetrating stare.
I let out a tense, exasperated sigh. "How about a compromise," I suggested.
"How about you just fix everything you've broken?" Adam snarled.
Ignoring him, I said, "If you apologise to me for locking me in the storeroom and reading my journal, I will tell you the password for your MySpace, and we both won't tell anyone any secrets."
"And what about my high scores?" Adam hissed.
"I'll tell you how to get them back," I said.
He stood there, grinding his teeth, eyebrows plunging, breathing heavily, and generally behaving like a rhinoceros. I stood there, arms folded, waiting for his answer.



Finally, he exhaled noisily. "OK," he said. "I'm sorry I locked you in the storeroom and read your journal."
"You have to mean it," I said.
"For God's sake, Ellie, what else do you want?" he cried.
"You're not showing any remorse!" I said.
"That's because I'm bloody angry!"
"Well, stop being angry!"
"I can't just go and turn off how I feel!"
"Work on it," I suggested, beginning to dial.
Adam noticed. "Stop that."
I looked at him again, challenging. "Say sorry."
"I did."
"Mean it."
"I did!—OK." He sighed loudly and whirled his arms around a bit. "I am really, really, sorry for locking you in the store room and for reading your journal. I feel very remorseful."
He looked grumpily at me. "Password," he demanded, "or I call Julian."
"He wouldn't believe you anyway," I said flippantly. "But it's 'bananasrcool08', all lowercase, with the 'r' as in the letter, not the word."
"Thankyou," Adam said grudgingly. He started walking out of my room, then paused. "'Bananas are cool'?" he repeated incredulously.
"It was the first thing that came to my head," I said. "Now get lost."
"You still haven't told me how to restore my games," he said.
"The files are all in the recycle bin," I said. "If you don't know how to put something back from the recycle bin, you've got problems."
He trudged out of my room, leaving me to metaphorically kick myself for leaving my journal lying around. Thank god he didn't find my real journal, the one I actually record my private feelings and stuff in! Then I probably would have refused to give him the password at all.
Still, the writing in this journal is incriminating enough.
"Did you save a copy of the code for what was on my MySpace before you wiped it?" Adam called.
"Nope," I called back. "What an oversight. I'm so dreadfully sorry."
"Keep that attitude up, and I'll ring your loverboy," Adam called.
"Empty threat," I called.
I heard the house phone ring in the hallway, but couldn't be bothered to go get it. I was still sulking. Let mum or dad get it, I thought. I started rummaging in my desk drawer, looking to see if I had an old padlock I could perhaps fix to my journal.
The phone rang for a while, then stopped suddenly. I kept rummaging, wondering if I even had a spare padlock (does anyone? Seriously, who keeps spare padlocks in their desk drawer?), but after about half a minute, I heard hurried footsteps coming up the stairs.
I opened my door just as Mum pounded on Adam's door, so I heard her say "Quick, we've got an emergency meeting at the hall. Something's happened."



"What?" I said, startled.
"I'm not sure yet," Mum explained to me quickly, taking off her lab coat as she spoke. "Debbie Rosencrantz just said to get to the hall as quickly as possible, so we're going now. Let's go."
"In the car?" I asked.
Mum shook her head. "No need, we'll just walk quickly."
"Someone else been poisioned?" I asked.
"I don't know," Mum said, sounding snappish.
"Just let me clear my profile…" I heard Adam mutter.
"No, Adam, we have to go now," Mum insisted.
"It'll only take a minute—"
"Now!" Mum said forcefully.
"OK…" Adam grumbled, swivelling on his chair and glaring at me as he came out of his room. I shrugged at him.
It was only as we were walking out of our front gate that Mum's sense of urgency really caught on, and I started to panic.
"Mum, do you have any idea—"
"No, I don't, Ellie," Mum said irritably. "Debbie just called me and said she was calling everyone in the town to get there as soon as we could because she had some important news. It didn't sound good."
My stomach lurched, and my overactive imagination started dreaming up worst-case scenarios. Joanna's dead…someone found, and killed, all the Desslers…we've been struck by a plague…someone's house is on fire…there's been a werewolf attack again…Amelia's a werewolf…Amelia's dead… the government want to redevelop the land…we all have to leave Solitaria…the hall burnt down…someone's dead…
By the time we actually reached the hall, I was a bundle of nerves. My mind continued to present me with horrible situations, but kept sticking on one in particular, like a broken record player: Amelia's dead…someone's dead…Amelia's dead…
"I have to go to the loo," I gasped to Mum, and bolted for it through the crowds of hushed-talking, anxious people. Luckily it was unoccupied.



Whenever I get nervous, my digestive system ties itself in knots. My stomach rumbles, and then I have to find a toilet extremely quickly, where I…well, I don't think you need to know the details. Let's just say it's an explosive experience.
And that's where I was when everyone else heard the news: sitting on the toilet, trying to listen through the door, horrified at what might be happening on the other side. I heard a sudden stillness in the hall, and the too-quiet, muffled noise of Debbie Rosencrantz speaking calmly to the assembled. Before the muffled speaking finished, there was a scream: a piercing, full-throated animal shriek of pain that ripped through me where I sat. It went on and on until I heard someone else speaking rapidly, obviously trying to calm someone down, followed by noisy, racking sobs and hushed, sympathetic tones.
By now, my nerves were at breaking point. I wanted to scream through the door: Tell me what's going on! I need to know what's happened!
But nature prevented me from leaving. I had to be sure nothing embarrassing would happen once I got out.
I waited a few minutes, until the volcano in my stomach had stopped erupting, then finished up, washed my hands, and nearly broke down the door in my haste to get out. I hurried towards the archway which led to the general community room of the hall—
I stopped dead in my tracks, everything hitting me at once.
A few faces turned towards me, etched in varying degrees of pain and suffering.
Debbie was still talking – something about a police investigation – but I didn't hear her.
Victoria was hunched over on one of the couches, crying hysterically, being comforted by her mother, Sophie.



I caught sight of Amelia's face in the crowd, streaked with tears, and for a moment I felt relieved: At least she's still alive…
She noticed me standing there, shocked and still not understanding what had happened. Her face crumpled as she started making her way gently through everyone towards me.
"What happened?" I whispered, heart thumping, dreading the answer without even knowing what the answer was.
Her lip quivered, and she brushed tears from her cheeks. "It's Lou," she said, her voice cracking. "He's—he's been shot. He's gone, Ellie. Gone."
Once again, my brain was hit by a barrage of emotions and thoughts all at once: Amelia in tears – Victoria crying – Lou gone – gone – shot?
"Shot?" I whispered, my mind swirling. I felt tears start springing into the corners of my eyes.
Amelia nodded, forgotten tears dripping off her chin now. "Shot."
I breathed very quickly, feeling the drops of salty water streaking small rivers down my cheeks. Lou was gone.
"Oh, my god," I whispered as it hit me. The tears flowed faster now. My throat constricted, my head throbbed, my nose was blocked…
Amelia hugged me, and finally, the shock and anxiousness overflowed. I clung to her as I cried, and felt her chest shuddering as she took shaky breaths in and out, knowing that she was crying too. My scrambled brain kept focussing on the one thought: Lou was gone.



He was the one person in the town who everyone was friends with. You couldn't help it – since he ran the only shop of any kind, most people came into contact with him quite regularly, and there wasn't a single one of us in Solitaria who didn't like his loyal, caring, and slightly mischievous personality. He was the leader of our tight knit community, who was always ready to help with utter selflessness. More than just a shopkeeper, he was a good friend of everyone – someone you could really count on.
The thought that someone so kind and gentle had met such a violent, shocking end made me sick. Someone had taken a gun and fired a bullet into him, tearing his body apart, taking the life of someone special in a single, bloody act of brutality.
It made me angry. An angriness which only intensified as Amelia tearfully added, as though an afterthought, "Victoria found out she's pregnant today."
I gasped. Pregnant?...
I glanced back into the room full of bereaved people, and my gaze fell upon the weeping vampire. The image would be one I'd remember for the rest of my life: the sight of Victoria, sobbing desperately into her hands on the couch, grieving for the father of her unborn child.