Hey! So, this little side note is kind of important. I already have the whole story written, but I'm not going to post the whole thing all at once. So, I'm just providing you with the comforting truth that this story won't be abandoned since it's already been completed :) Enjoy and tell me what you think!

Chapter 1

I had never been much of of city-girl, which is why my parents thought it would be good for me to spend the summer with my aunt, Angela, in Hemingford, Nebraska; I used to go there every summer when I was little, but somehow life got in the way and I stopped. I've been a little depressed lately, and that's why I was sent here. For some reason, though, I doubted I'd have too much fun. Don't get me wrong - I loved the idea of the fresh air and open spaces, and I had always enjoyed spending time with Angela; however, Hemingford isn't exactly the most exciting place on the planet. Hardly anything ever happens there; it's big news when someone wins a bingo game. To top it off, the town is extremely religious. I don't recall knowing anyone in the town that didn't attend church - even Angela went.

I took a deep breath and sunk deeper into the backseat of the taxi. I wasn't going to let the flaws of the small town ruin my time there, and I was going to try to have as much fun as possible.

There was one thing that I was excited about, though: my friend from a neighboring town, Micah. We met one day when my aunt had to run some errands in Gatlin, which is where he was from. She dropped me off at a local playground as to not bore me with all the shopping. It wasn't long before I noticed a pale boy with dark hair sitting alone under a tree. I noticed other kids at the park, particularly a group of boys, starting to give him funny looks. So, I made it my prerogative to become his friend. The rest is history, really. Every summer, he rode his bike almost every day to Hemingford to my aunt's house so we could play. I was more than happy to make the trip to see him, but never wanted me come to his house. Never seemed to want to go home, either. Angela was always concerned when he kept showing up with bruises or black eyes, but he always insisted they were just from accidents, constantly reminding her of his supposed "clumsiness." We used to hang out and play in the corn fields all the time; he was incredibly shy and sweet as a child, which is what I liked about him. I remember us as best friends, spending the summers together in total childlike bliss. We obviously lost touch when I stopped returning, but I still thought about him from time to time.

I peered out the window at the familiar stores and houses throughout the town, remembering every bit of it. However, I did notice something that confused me. News crew vans were everywhere, talking to some of the town residents and driving around.

"Do you know if anything's happened here lately?" I asked the driver.

"Somethin' went down in a city nearby - Gatlin. I don't know the details, I jus' know that some people were found dead," he answered casually with a country accent. My thoughts shot back to Micah, and I became slightly worried.

Maybe I had been wrong about the lack of events here.

As we approached a school, I instantly recognized my aunt's red convertible. It was parked beside yet another news van, and I noticed a group of people (along with news crews) standing around a school bus.

"Hold on, pull in here; I think I see my aunt," I told the driver.

Once he had pulled in and came to a stop, I paid him, grabbed by bag, and exited the car. I was slightly confused, and briefly paranoid I had mistaken someone else's car for my aunt's. I exhaled shakily as the taxi rode away, but I began to walk towards the mass of people as I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder.

I stopped for a moment when I noticed a little, red-haired girl being questioned by a news reporter.

"Did you see what happened to your mommy and your daddy?" he asked her with a calm voice. I was pretty curious about what she had to say; I thought that maybe I would find out what happened here.

"I..." she started in a small voice, "I saw the corn..."

The man stood there for a second as if he expected her to say something else, but she didn't; she just starred straight ahead at nothing.

"Ok, cut it," he told the camera man while standing up straight. "What is all this shit about the corn?"

I guess I made the mistake of staring at him for too long, because he caught my gaze and motioned for the camera man to follow him as he came over to me.

"Excuse me, young lady, but were you one of the children that was victimized by this horrible event?" he asked, holding the microphone close to my mouth.

Before I could even reply, Angela walked over and intervened. "Leave this one alone, boys. She's not one of them."

The man mumbled a few curse words before reluctantly walking away.

My aunt turned to me and placed her hands on my shoulders, smiling. "Lily - look how much you've grown! When did you get here, sweetheart? I thought you'd go straight to the house."

"I was," I admitted, "but I thought I recognized your car when we were driving through. And it seemed like-"

"Oh, I'm sorry about all this." She gestured to the side. "You haven't even been here five minutes and you've already been questioned by reporters! It really is great to see you, though. I've missed you so much!

She laughed and wrapped me in a hug. Forcing a smile and doing the same, I realized just how much I missed her, as well. Angela was young, in her early thirties, and she had short, dark brown hair. It was extremely like her to try and make the best of any situation. However, this did nothing to mitigate my curiosity... and worries.

She let me go, and my breath caught as I noticed someone standing behind her.

It was Micah.

Angela followed my gaze and smiled. "Bet you didn't expect to see your old best friend so soon, huh?"

I could barely hear her at that point. He looked so... different. Actually, that's an understatement - Micah looked a lot different. Older and taller than me to start, but that was a given. I couldn't help but notice the extreme contrast between Micah's appearance and my own; we were almost the exact opposites of each other. He had neat, jet-black hair and wore clothes that looked somewhat like a preacher's, except all black. His eyes were also an incredibly dark shade. I, on the other hand, had light blonde hair with blue eyes, and I wore jean shorts with a fitted white t-shirt.

When I say he looked tired, I don't mean "stayed up too late for a couple nights" tired. The dark circles around his eyes belonged to someone who was deeply distressed. Someone who has a lot on their mind. He was nothing like the boy with the messy dark hair I used to stargaze with, the boy who would chase me through the fields, or the boy who hugged me with a vice-like grip when it was time to go home. And yet, at the same time, he looked completely apathetic.

I had so many questions. What he was doing in Hemingford? What was he doing here? With my aunt? With the rest of these kids? Why does he look like that? What has he been through?

What the actual hell happened in Gatlin?

In the midst of my racing thoughts, I said the only thing I could manage.

"Hey, Micah."

He gave the slightest nod. "Lily."

Hearing him speak, although so quiet, seemed to knock me out of my trance. I coughed awkwardly, giving my aunt a distressed look.

Angela was about to say something, but an old lady came riding towards the school bus on a bike while yelling, "Go on! Get outta' my way! Move!" She stopped right in front of the bus and screamed to the driver, "Don't you move an inch!"

A police officer shoved his way through the crowed of news reporters that surrounded her.

"Come on now, Mrs. Burke; let's just get this thing over with," he said in an attempt to calm her down.

"Over my dead body! You know perfectly well if we let those children in our housing, we're gonna' end up dead, just like those people did!" she said, pointing angrily at the school bus.

"Now, Mrs. Burke-" the officer began to speak, but he was interrupted by Angela, who was navigating through the crowed to get to Mrs. Burke.

"Mrs. Burke... Mrs. Burke! Haven't these children been through enough?" she asked when she finally reached her.

"The children? What about their parents?! They murdered their own parents!"

"Those involved with the killings are dead," Angela assured her. "You have a nice, big, empty house. Why don't you volunteer it like I have?" I assumed that was the reason Micah had been hanging around my aunt - she was taking him in.

"I don't trust these children... I know them, every one!" Mrs. Burke hissed, gesturing to Micah. "I taught school in that town all those years, until I had the good sense to get out of there."

"I know. What happened is over, Mrs. Burke; it's over. Now, come on."

"You got no need to die, Angela. I'm takin' my house, and I'm gettin' out of here, and don't you try to stop me." Mrs. Burke whispered gravely, grabbing her bike and walking away.

People tried to encourage the old woman to stay, but she ignored them, climbing on her bike and riding away.

I looked towards Micah, who simply watched her with an emotionless expression as she left. I was so curious about what had happened in the town, I was actually about to ask Micah out of desperation. Luckily, Angela came over to us, sighing with her arms crossed. "That woman... Her stubbornness is going to turn around and bite her one day if she keeps it up," she said, shaking her head and looking at Micah. "Don't you listen to a word that old woman says. She's got quite the nerve to be accusing you children of murder!" She huffed one last time and began walking angrily to her car; Micah and I followed.

As we walked, a car pulled in to the parking space across from ours and a man, along with a teenage boy, exited the car. The man, who looked to be a little older than my aunt, walked over to us eagerly, and the boy reluctantly followed. "Um, excuse me, I'm a reporter and I'm trying to catch up on the recent events here. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" The man asked.

"Yeah, actually, I would," Angela answered. I forced myself to hold back a grin. "Besides, I don't have any answers..."

"Please, one question; just one," the man begged.

"Fine, just one," Angela begrudgingly stopped and turned to face him. The man was silent for a moment, his eyes surveying her shirt which was an advertisement for the bed and breakfast she runs.

"Do you know of a place that we can stay? It's just my son and me," he gestured to the boy. "Someplace cozy, not too extravagant?"

"I guess it pays to advertise, huh?" Angela laughed.

"Do you have any vacancies?"

"Well, I have a nice room with twin beds for thirty bucks per night."

"Great, we'll take it!" the man smiled.

Angela nodded and resumed walking to her car. "Just follow me there," she called back to them. She placed our luggage in the passengers seat, so Micah and I both sat in the back.

This was going to be one crazy summer vacation.