Um, me. I'm going to try and write another one. I'm writing too much, I think, but I don't want to forget this idea. I got it while driving with my mum. It's Post-Haunted, and it's a bit out there. But bear with me. I don't know how it's going to end yet, but we will see. Please review! It's probably going to be very confusing for me to write this, because I am so used to creating Paul and Jesse swaps, but root for me!

Love Lolly.

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Once again, I was trapped up there.

In the Shadow World. It had been a while since I'd been engulfed by the spine-tingling fog, felt the impact of the isolation, the chill of the cold, distant stars above me that had no relation to where I came from. No ghosts were ever here when I came. It was always only me . . .

And sometimes Paul.

It was better to be alone up here. Nobody could hurt me.

Paul was not up here tonight. I was glad. The effect his presence had on me was crashing. It tore me into the two sides of me. My integrity, and my darkness. The angel and the devil that dwelt within my sinning heart. I knew what I felt was wrong. The way I looked at him, when Jesse was absent, and secret thoughts I had about him in the privacy of my own malicious mind, all combined to reveal to me that Paul wasn't just someone I could forget.

I'd never told Jesse about the kiss. The kiss between Paul and I, on his bed. It was something I was too ashamed of. I'd finally weaseled the truth out of Jesse, that he loved me as much as I loved him, and then these feelings started! These dirty concepts, these maddening beliefs, the knowledge that I was betraying Jesse. It was killing me. I lived in Limbo.

The shifter lessons with Paul had not begun. Part of me wished that they never would, and the other part craved time alone with him. What I desired of that time, even I wasn't bold enough to imagine.

God, I need a Mentos.

I ambled on down the dark hall, my footsteps echoing with raw clarity of the glassy floor, yet dulled ever so slightly by the bitter miasma. I clutched my bare arms tightly, but it did no good. I still felt as if I was in a freezer. I was wearing this dress. It was pretty. Light blue, and very elegant. It hung from my hips beautifully, swirling at my legs. I'd just been to the movies with Adam and CeeCee, and had been too tired to change into my pajamas. The doors on either side of me continued for eternity. I passed about a hundred every night. I wondered, was there ever an end to this corridor? Was it an illusion? Did it only seem to go on forever? If so, then where was the Gatekeeper? Behind one of them?

So many questions, no one to answer.

On and on . . . this road never ended. Did it symbolize something? If so, what? My love for Jesse? My pain? God forbid, my life? Because I didn't want to live forever. Not if I was going to feel like this all the time. Feel like two people, torn between two men.

On one hand, Jesse was the zenith of all that was good. He was like an archangel, or something. Incarnation of purity, goodness, love . . .

Then on the other hand, there was Paul.

A temptation himself, he epitomized evil. Attractions, seduction, sin . . . The devil's advocate. Luring me to my fate. A fate I knew would not end simply with sunshine and daisies.

So once again, it was another illustration of the eternal battle between good and evil. But I knew that either could triumph over the other. Over all.

Winning? What was there to win? What was the prize? What motivated them to continue this incessant, fruitless struggle?

So many questions, no one to answer.

Oh, for God's sake!

Why could I never wake up from these dreams?! God, no! They were nightmares! They were prisons in my own psyche, driving me eventually to insanity! Is that what they wanted? For an innocent little sixteen year old gal like myself to go completely screwy? Well, they were frigging doing a GREAT JOB.

I felt my knees buckle from beneath me, and I sank to the cold glassy floor, in front of a very large door. This was wrong. Why was this happening to me? What did I do wrong? These feelings for Paul, they weren't my punishment. They were a symptom. They had to be. And it only made it worse that I finally knew that Jesse was in love with me.

Don't get me wrong. I was deeply in love with him. My heart sang each morning to the bliss that I felt. I talked more, looked better, danced around a lot, heck, I was even nicer to people.

That was before Paul came back from his suspension, his nose infuriatingly healthy again, and his whole physique looking darkly attractive in his cool black ensemble that Monday morning. Black jeans hugged to his tall legs, fitting him perfectly and accentuating his height and . . . oh, okay, his great butt. Not that I was looking! Kelly Prescott told me everything, I swear!

Well, maybe not so much.

But can you blame me? My eyes were like, magnetized to him! Yeah, not just his butt. He was tall, and his hair was extra curly and brown and delectable . . . And that top he was wearing that day, all close fitting and stuff, you could tell he knew that he was pretty. A womanizer, it would have appeared. He knew how to handle himself.

Just apparently, not with me.

And have any of you seen "Secret Window" with Johnny Depp in it? Well, you know when Amy was running around Mort's house, seeing the word "Shooter" everywhere, and then stops when Mort pushes the door away from him? THERE! RIGHT THERE! With his head down, the hat shadowing his eyes, and his eyes all evil and glaring and possessed and evil and – did I say evil? Oh yeah, twice . . . But there! That's how Paul looked at me the very moment his eyes fell on me on that Monday morning, at eight o'clock. That moment froze me, and everything I thought I knew. It thrust Jesse into the shadows. It eclipsed all of the ghosts I had to deal with, and had ever dealt with in my time. Only Paul and I existed . . . Horrible. It was like a curse being cast on me, on my heart, mind and body. Because from that moment on, I craved him. His presence, his attention, his love . . . It was dark, and wrong, and evil, but my skin tingled when his name was mentioned. I didn't know what had happened to me. When he touched me, my nervous system seemed to explode in protest.

And I knew, because he'd been touching me a lot lately.

No, don't go THAT far. It had all been PG, just, it was very scary for me. I was starting to fall into the darkness inside myself.

Fall FOR the darkness.

Oh, God help me . . . I didn't want it, but I DID. It was a thirst that could not be quenched. Except by one thing, a thing that I refused to bow down to.

I was Susannah Simon. I would not sink that low.

Then why did I feel like I was being pulled down? Drowned by desire?

A susurrus was accruing around me, deadly whispers intruding my ears, luring me further into the coldness. I yelled aloud. 'Stop it!'

I ran down the hall, trying to leave my aphrodisia behind me. But it clung to me with relentless claws. My feet pounded heavily on the glass. I was breathing fast, heavily . . . It was horrifying. Why did I feel this way? Was it dark magic?


I needed to elude this feeling. It slashed away at my remaining dignity, digging ever closer to my breaking point, my threshold of endurance.

I was dangerously close as it was.

Running, fleeing. It seemed all I ever did was run away nowadays.


I collided with something. Something warm, a refreshing difference in this world of dark winter.

'Hello Suze,' Paul whispered down at me, holding my shoulders with spider- like hands.

I looked up at him fearfully, panting. He vilified me, gazing down in my eyes. He was so tall . . . too tall for me comfort. It gave him an ill- deserved eminence. Gasping, I jerked away from him, and only fell on my butt, staring up at him with wide, afraid eyes.

Eyes of a child.

'What are you doing here?' I wheezed. Running so fast and stopping so suddenly hurt my chest. I tried to keep my breathing quiet, but it was refusing to cooperate.

Paul . . . mysterious, statuesque, possessive of control . . . he leered at me. He recognized the fear. He didn't know how scared I was, though. He had no idea. Never, had I felt fear like this. It was only after he kissed me that I began to identify the danger that I was in. Paul was a perilous guy. Not the dude you would want to bring home for dinner to woo your mum.

'I'm here because I can be,' he said simply, leaning over me slightly. 'Suze . . . I suggest you run.'

You didn't have to tell me twice! I scrambled to my feet, bolting down the corridor like the last spaghetti strapped black nylon dress on sale was there. Well, this situation was a wee bit more insidious. I felt like there was a pernicious poison pumping in my blood. I had to run. Had to get away.

I turned my head and saw Paul running after me. Dense mist curled around him menacingly. He looked like an embodied shadow. My God, he was so fast! I screamed, and kept going. My hair whipped my face. Where did this wind come from? It was driving me back! I knew in my mind that it was pointless, but I NEVER gave up. I was too stubborn to give up.

Give in to the attraction.

'You can keep running, Suze. You can't hide here. There's no where to go.'

His voice came as a grim divination. He was right. He was always right. Always one step ahead of me. I twisted my head –

But he was gone.

What? Where did he go? Did he give up? Did he shift back? Or was it just my nightmare going all weird on me, as nightmares do. Shrugging, I turned back –

'Thought I'd leave?'

I tried to yell, but his hand shot over my mouth, and he pressed me hand against one of the doors. Sandwiching me there. I felt winded. I needed air, and he was crushing my chest, stopping my breathing.

He cocked his head, staring down at me with mirth. Amusement. He thought this was funny. Oh, am I just America's Funniest Home Videos to him? Great. JUST spiffing.

He looked so dangerous, from the angle his head was tilted at. Superior, yet you're-gonna-die-ha-ha kind of angle. His lips were twitched upward in a typical smirk, but this one scared me shitless. My palms were wet, and a cold sweat was reflecting on my forehead. His eyes, they were fur-eaky. Dark, stormy . . . yet so pale.

'Try running now,' he goaded. 'Go on. See if you can.'

I thrashed obediently to the best of my ability in my current predicament, but I saw him strain to keep me trapped. I couldn't get away.

My heart was beating like crazy . . .

'Thought so . . . ' he whispered cunningly into my ear, his lips beside my face. I could feel his muscular stomach against me.

This was NOT FAIR!

But when he tried to kiss me, the tables turned. The instant his lips brushed mine, he was blasted back with a force that came from deep within me. I didn't even know what it was. But hey, in dreams, anything could happen.

But this wasn't a dream. I knew that.

Something told me that this was horribly real.

Paul collided with the door opposite me, and fell on his stomach. I too fell back with a squeal.

Paul's hand snaked out, and he seized my ankle. With a yelp, I reacted the only way I thought possible at that single moment, which, looking back, was incredibly stupid.

I grabbed the handle of the door behind me, and with a flash, I disappeared.

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I might even get the next chapter up today. I'll see how I go . . .