"Timmy! Hurry up! If you miss your flight you won't be able to catch another one until next Sunday! I already have the car started!" His father hollered up the stairs.

"Just two more minutes, Dad!" Timmy called out. He had already loaded down their now-ancient station wagon with all of his important stuff, but he needed a moment to sit on his bed and just let the memories of his eighteen years play around him. His relationship with his parents wasn't good enough to justify him coming home for any of the breaks the school year allows, so this will probably be the last time he'll ever be in his room, probably the last time he'll ever be in Dimmsdale.

Sighing, Timmy thought of his relationship with his parents. They had never abused him, but they hadn't exactly been showering him with love. He supposes the best way to describe the relationship was to say that they were just there, or rather that he was just there. He had always had the suspicion that he was just a third wheel for them, when they could already ride a two-wheeler, but were keeping the training wheels on just for the heck of it. Yeah, that's it; it was there home, their life, and he was just the quiet guest, whom they didn't really want or need, but were willing to tolerate because they were kind people. That's what Timmy hypothesized, though in truth, they would always be an enigma to him.

He wasn't sad about leaving this place, there was nothing special in it for him. Sure, he was reasonably popular, and had a few good friends in Chester and A.J., but he's confident he will make the same type of connection with any of his future class mates in college. He'd had a girlfriend in high school, whom he liked a lot, but it wasn't like he was ready to propose or anything.

Timmy smiles, thinking how eight years ago he would have proposed to a girl named Trixie Tang, if there'd been any chance he wouldn't be laughed out of school for doing so. She was his greatest crush, the greatest crush of every boy, and some girls, actually. He frowns as he tries to remember what it was he liked about her, but can't come up with anything. God, was it just for her looks? Yeah, it probably was, but he brushes off the slight feeling of revulsion at himself, thinking that looks are usually the basis for a lot of crushes, and the most likely reason as to why they don't work out if the couple actually does manage get together.

Any further musings are interrupted when his dad yells again, "Timmy, have you decided to live up there?"

"No dad, I'm coming down now." Timmy says, not really caring if he's loud enough for his dad to hear him, as he takes one last glance around the room as he walks out. Just as he reaches the doorway, he spots the it. Deciding that his dad can wait a few more seconds, he walks over the the end table and picks up the empty fishbowl. He can't remember ever having fish, but his mom and dad, and even Vicky, his former baby-sitter, insist that he had two goldfish from age ten on, they had only died in the last couple of years. When he first heard it, he had thought they were all playing a huge prank on him, but there were photos of him with the same fishbowl, and, surprise, it had two odd looking goldfish inside it.

Every sleepless night he stared at the bowl, he felt something in the back of his mind, struggling to get out, it never did, but he made a secret wish every night; that one day he would wake up with memories of these alleged fish. He didn't know why, but he felt that if he could just remember those fish, somehow, someway, his life wouldn't seem so empty. In the morning his rational mind tells him he's going insane, because sometimes, he swears, that just as he's nodding off, he can see lights coming from the castle ornament Giving into his impulse, Timmy grabs the fishbowl before running out of the room and to the waiting car.

Taking the last step he will ever take out of the house, Timmy sees why his dad didn't yell out once again after he said he was coming down; he was talking with his mom and Vicky. It was odd, but Timmy had sort of expected her to be here, and indeed, would have been disappointed had she not shown. After all, it was mostly her tutelage that made him into the person he is today. And since he doesn't hate who he is, he can admit to himself, at least, that he doesn't hate Vicky.

By no means his favorite person, she had in past years become somewhat bearable in her cruelty. Of course that could have something to do with the fact that she had ceased her role as his baby-sitter, so they didn't see each other that much anymore.

Timmy's mom, the first of the small group to spot him, announced his presence to his Dad and Vicky, "Oh, Timmy's here."

"Better go see him now, Vicky." She added as she dragged her husband into the car.

Wondering what exactly she was going to say, Timmy met her halfway. For a moment they just stood there, on the front lawn, looking into each other's eyes, searching, for what, neither of them knew. Timmy finally broke the silence, "So, I guess this is good-bye."

"Yeah, I guess so." Vicky answered, uncharacteristically shuffling her feet. With a start, Timmy suddenly realized that twenty-six year old Vicky wasn't very threatening, certainly not as much as she had seemed to him at sixteen. Maybe it was because he now towered over her, not the other way around? He was halted from thinking about what this new information could mean when Vicky abruptly hugged him. Hesitating only a second, Timmy hugged back. When she let go of him, she paused to look thoughtfully at him, before pulling something out of her pocket and handing it to him. "This is for you."

Taking it, Timmy looked down at the thin, bright white envelope. All it said was to: Timmy, from: Vicky, in black ink. Looking up to say thanks, he saw that Vicky had already left. When his mom hit the horn he stopped trying to look where Vicky may have run off to so quickly, and instead ran over to get in the backseat of the car.

He barely had his feet in before the car took off. Timmy noted his parents talking animately amongst themselves, and as he had always done, tuned them out. Looking at the envelope clutched in his hand, he sloppily ripped it open, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Out fell four one hundred dollar bills. Pocketing the money, he read what little was written on the paper.

Hey Twerp,

Hope you like my going away gift, and good luck on higher education.

Your friend, Vicky.

P.S.: If you ever want to talk to someone, you know my phone number.

Folding away the letter and putting it in his pocket, along with the money, Timmy considered what Vicky might have meant with that last line. Looking at the fishbowl that he still hadn't put down, he thought, "Maybe there is a reason to come back to Dimmsdale..."

THE END

Green-Eyed Monster – Green-Eyed Monster – Green-Eyed Monster

Note: Sorry for taking so long to update, hope this chapter is as enjoyable as the other two, it went throught several rewrites, so I'm not too sure.