So!

:D

I hope all of you are well, whatever part of the world you might be. :D

So, some sad news: This is DEFINITELY the last chapter of Disappear. I'm sorry to spring it on you like this, but I got my copy of Being Nikki early (as in, three days ago. :D) and it gave me several ideas for this (I'll explain that later) and then I wrote the ending for this today during Anatomy so I just had to finish it. :)

So, again, my apologies. But it just had to be this way. I screwed this thing up WAY too much because of the limited info on my behalf, but now that I've begun reading this sequel, I've realized the gaping holes in this storyline. So, in essence, I'm saving my own skin before you all can harp at me. XD

Speaking of gaping holes in storylines. . .

WARNING!!!!!!!!!!! This last chapter contains spoilers from Being Nikki, the sequel to Airhead. If you don't want to be spoiled, I highly suggest that you read past the first 130 pages of Being Nikki when you get a copy. Then, you can read and review this fic. If you don't mind some spoilers, knock yourself out. But, here's your warning. Be prepared for some spoilers.

Okay then. :D

E.I.W.: You are very right. It is called Runaway. :D Thanks for reviewing.

jayd-n33: Here you are, dear. :)

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LifeOnCrack: I love your penname. :D Thanks! :)

DannysGhostWriter: I understand what you mean with the vagueness. Unfortunately, I write vague pretty often (it's so sad :'[). It's really, really good. :D I do not have a beta reader. :D I'm pretty good with spelling and such, but grammar (as you probably noticed) is my weak point. If you're really interested, send me a PM.

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Meg Cabot Fan: Thankies!

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blah: I'm sorry I don't meet your standards. :(

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Zaila: Wait no longer. :D

Literati Lover: Well. . .

Authoress Panda.: Thank you for your input. I'm glad I'll be ending this. :) I didn't do a very good job with it, I know.

poisonivy231: I never found these replies painstaking, just tiring 'cause there's so many of you. :D If I review replied each one of you, it'd make me even more tired. But it's pretty much the same concept, so don't mind me. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns this!


Six.

I woke up an hour before the funeral.

I showered quickly and matted down my hair with some sort of hair gel I hadn't used in ages.

I dressed in a dark suit that Dad had bought me a year ago.

When I entered the living room, Dad was shrugging on his coat.

He assessed me just to make sure and then clapped me on the shoulder in a it'll-be-all-right way.

He led the way to the car and I followed reluctantly, wondering if it was too late for me to go back to bed.

I really didn't want to do this.

As if answering my though, the doorlock activated, locking us inside for safe departure.

Damn it.


The room was almost full when we got there.

We found a seat with difficulty, but we found one, at least.

We were near the back. I could see the backs of Mr. and Mrs. Watts and Frida's heads, all lined up.

I could not see their faces, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

I looked around at all the people there, almost unaware that Em had this many people who knew her.

The majority of them were family related, having that severely grave expression of one of their numbers being lost.

I saw a few teachers, and several classmates.

The classmates were interesting to watch.

Most of them looked abundantly emotional, some just appearing upset.

I did not know most of their names, which probably meant that Em hadn't known them either.

What bastards.

How dare they do that? At a funeral? Where her parents and sibling and family are here?

I wanted to go over there and kick them out.

I really, really did.

But the service had already begun and I didn't want to cause a further nuisance than I had been.

We weren't in a regular funeral parlor, rather, in a crematorium, though not in the room where they burned all the bodies.

A preacher got up from the first pew beside Mr. Watts and went up to the stage, standing in front of a pyre.

Em's body wasn't there; apparently, it was too gory for viewing.

The preacher rambled on about life and death, and how it wasn't so sad after all because God watches over young souls, etc., etc.

The preacher was the only one who spoke. It was a very short service. I assumed the Watts's wouldn't have been prepared to hear other people talk about death today, during their eldest's funeral.

Afterwards, people walked up to the family and gave their condolences.

My father and I were some of the first people to go up and speak with them.

My dad shook Mr. Watts's hand, speaking words of encouragement to him.

I eyed Frida and Mrs. Watts.

The latter was currently talking with an elderly couple, nodding her head a lot and sniffling.

Frida's mouth was parted in astonishment, looking at me like I'd crawled up out of a gutter dressed like a goat.

"Did you cut your hair?" she hissed, her eyes huge.

I absentmindedly touched my short blond hair, as if I'd almost forgotten it existed.

"Oh, yeah," I answered dryly. "I did."

Frida continued to stare.

I ignored her, intending to speak with Mrs. Watts.

The elderly couple eventually turned away, hobbling to the lobby.

I stepped up to her.

"Oh, Christopher," she said, sounding a little startled. "How are you?"

I did not answer her question. I didn't want to lie.

"I was just wondering if you might have a picture of Em, possibly?" I quietly inquired.

"Oh. Um, yes, hold on."

Mrs. Watts moved to her purse, sitting on the first pew, unattended.

She rifled through it several seconds before pulling out a folder containing school pictures.

Mrs. Watts handed me one of the larger pictures, peering down at it with me.

"She looks pretty, doesn't she?" she murmured to where only I could hear.

I studied Em's familiar face, blinking back some tears.

"Yes, she does," I responded truthfully, my throat aching with the strain of holding back so much emotion. "Thank you."

Mrs. Watts nodded and moved to speak to some more people.

My dad appeared at my side minutes later, glancing at the picture over my shoulder.

"Let's go."

I nodded in agreement and followed after him.


We arrived back home quickly, and I decided to go out and buy a frame for the picture of Em I'd gotten from Mrs. Watts.

When I returned back to the house, I placed it on my bookshelf where it was piled around countless books.

I examined it with its environment, satisfied.

I turned to my computer and it came to life once I jiggled the mouse around.

My cousin Felix immediately appeared on the screen, his black hair sticking up.

"Hey, man. How'd the funeral go?" he said, unnaturally respectful.

I looked him in the eyes and opened my mouth to say the words that would make everything better:

"I want to destroy Stark Enterprises."

Felix's wan mouth spread into a slow smile.

"You got it," he gruffly responded.

I nodded once, serious.

And stealthily, Felix and I began to plan out revenge against Stark.

The revenge that would (hopefully) avenge Em's death.

Because she was worth the risk.


Well, this is the end!

Ha!

What'd you think? :D

You guys haven't necessarily gotten rid of me yet, I'm sure once I finish Being Nikki I'll have some one shot pieces floating around in my head.

:D

Thank you for sticking with me for so long, and thanks for all of the feedback!

I'll catch you guys later!

. . . Review!

P.S: If you ever wish to discuss Being Nikki when you finish it, feel free to PM me! I'd love to talk it over with all of you! :D