Sorry for the long wait, and I sincerely apologize for the short(ish) chapter to follow. I didn't want to give away too much. But, I assure you, I am working on the next chapter as we speak (or as you read this; whichever comes first). I'm not too sure how long it will take me, but please hang in there with me.

And please, please leave a review. I love reading reviews, no matter if it's good or bad. I want you to really voice your opinions, because I'm here, and I'm listening to you. All of you.

Thank you, and please enjoy.

HOPE ESTHIEM

Days passed without any sign of Snow at all. I started to think that maybe he returned to Pulse after all, even after he promised to be here by my side. Even after all that he put me through this past month, for some reason I couldn't comprehend, I wanted him here again. The smell of his strong cologne became so normal that my nose craved for nothing but it.

I think I was going crazy.

Even with the pain I was feeling, though, I had to go back to working the fields. Something yellow and long surrounded what remained of Mrs. Summers' house. I felt a little empty inside looking at it from the distance. I wasn't the only one feeling empty. Hooper was also slowly dying. He would no longer run and follow me around like he used to. Now he just lies there, in the sun, eyes glassy and dazed.

My little Hooper was dying.

I took a rest on the side of the house, dropping the bag of wheat by my dirty feet. Leaning the back of my head against the moldy wood, I looked up at the sky, daring my eyes to stare at the sun long enough. The golden glare of the sun reminded me of Snow's hair. The blue skies reminded me of Snow's eyes. The fluffy clouds reminded me of his skin. And then I began to remember what happened in the church the other day.

And, unlike that day, I didn't feel disgusted or wrong. I felt like I wanted more.

I wanted to be held in his arms again. I didn't even care if I was going to feel that pain again. I just wanted him to come back. He was all I had now.

My eyes looked over at Hooper. He was lying there, not moving. Eyes not shifting. Tail not wagging.

I think Hooper was dead.

SNOW VILLIERS

It was all Serah's fault. Everything was her fault. My ability to think rationally was completely clouded by thoughts of her. It was as if I didn't even realize what the fuck I had until she was gone. Gone without a single trace. Did she still think about me? Did she ever think how wrong she was to leave me? Or was she still fucking doing whatever Lightening asked her to?

No.

Not what Lightening asked her to do. What Lightening told her to do.

God damn it! I don't even know how long I was driving. All I do know is where I'm going. And I'm going to make sure Serah never forgets me. No matter how hard she tries, I will never be forgotten.

I carelessly tossed an empty can of Monster out the car window after drinking every last bit of it. Rubbing my beard with one hand, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, foot pressed hard against the accelerator. I passed by fields and fields of corn, wheat and just plain grass. It was hard to admire anything in the dark, though. But, even if it were day time, I wouldn't stop to stare.

I had a mission. And I was going to complete it no matter what.

I stopped at a gas station by the side of the endless road to grab a few things. The lady behind the counter gave me a weary look as I bought a giant pail, lots and lots of lighters, and lighter fluid. I hardly gave her any time of day.

"How much will this come up to?" I asked, my voice hoarse. Probably from lack of sleep.

"$67.89." She said.

There was no turning back now. After I pay for this I have to follow through with it all. I didn't even know where to start.

I pulled out my wallet and handed her the money in exact change.

As she sorted it all out in the cash register, she attempted to start a conversation. "So, where ya headed off to?"

I looked out the window behind her. "...You really wanna know?"

From the corner of my eye, I could see her smile nervously. "Well, yeah. What'cha doin' out here in the middle ah no where?"

I smiled to myself. "Going to live in Cocoon."

She paused. "...Cocoon? Why live there?"

I tried to find a believable answer. "I... 'dunno."

I couldn't find one.

She continued counting out the change. "All right; it's all yours." She handed me the items in a bag. "Have a nice day... sir."

"Thanks." I grabbed the plastic bag and left the store. Standing outside in the overwhelming heat, I lit myself a cigarette with one of the lighters and held it between my lips. I walked up to one of the gas stations and bought about 10 gallons. I filled up the pail as much as I could with the gasoline, and grabbed extra pails from the back of my truck and continued filling until I had it all.

Waiting until the lady went into the back room, I poured about 9 gallons in and around the store as fast as I could, my heart beating out of my chest. I walked quickly to my truck, turned it on, and then turned to face the mess I made.

"...Sorry about this..." I lit one of my lighters and dropped it in a puddle of gasoline.

The fire flared up quickly, and the smell of gasoline filled my nostrils. I grimaced.

I quickly jumped into my truck, closed the door, and stabbed the accelerator as hard as I could. The car groaned in protest, the wheels turning repeatedly in the dried mud before forcing the truck forward.

I watched the fire flare up and completely engulf the gas station in my rare view mirror, trying hard to not feel sorry, even though my chest was hurting so badly it was difficult to bare.
Forcing my eyes back on the endless road ahead of me, I tried not to think about anything but heading to Cocoon.
My deed was far from done.

OERBA DIA VANILLE

Hope is changing. And I had no doubt in my mind that Snow was the cause of it. I never knew much about Hope in the first place, but I did know that he would never intentionally hurt somebody. Unless a certain someone threatened him and made him do it... That was the only explanation I could come up with! Snow was like Satan, forcing poor, helpless Hope. And I was like God's little helper. I felt it was only my job to help Hope.

Because no one else would.

That afternoon was the same as always; I was enjoying a stroll through Cocoon, still worrying over Hope as I did so. But, then things suddenly changed for the worse. I noticed yellow police tape surrounded Mrs. Summers's house. There were police cars all the way from Pulse parked all around the property; their red and blue lights flashing brightly.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I cautiously made my way over to what remained of Mrs. Summers's house, looking for any men in a police uniform. At first I could hear men talking behind the big oak tree that shielded Mrs. Summers's back door. I peeked from behind the tree, and caught sight of four men in uniform, one scribbling things down on a notepad, others scouting the area. And there was one man in a long black trench coat and shiny black leather shoes. He had scary and challenging light gray-blue eyes and gray hair, except he wasn't an old man. He looked like he could be in his mid 30's. His hands were on his hips, only his eyes scanning his surroundings.

Just as I was about to back up and leave, though, did his eyes immediately meet mine. At first he looked super frightening; the man's lips were pulled into a tight, straight line, nose up in the air, standing confidently. But, then suddenly he gave me a warm smile (the warmest I've ever seen from someone from the Pulse Police Department!) and waved me over.

I timidly took a step forward, wondering if I should really obey and walk over there, but then I gave up and slowly stepped towards him. As soon as I arrived, he put a gloved hand on my exposed shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, young lady," he said, smiling. "My name is Yaag Rosch. I'm from the Pulse City Police Department, or PCPD, as most call it."

I smiled, but I could feel that it came out as a nervous grin instead. "Um.. hello." I held my hands behind my back and looked at down at my feet. "My name is Oerba Dia Vanille. But, most call me Vanille."

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. "You have a very lovely accent, Vanille."

I felt my cheeks turn red. "Well, thank you!" I looked up and smiled at him. He gave me the longest, strangest smile I've ever seen directed at me, and then looked at the burned down home.

Mr. Rosch placed his hands back on his hips. "Vanille, my dear, do you know anything about what happened here a few days ago?"

My throat locked up. "Uh... Well... someone, or something burned down this home..."

Mr. Rosch smiled to himself. "...Really?" He looked me directly in the eyes. "Is that all you know? Did you not see anything suspicious happen here?"

I hesitated, and then looked back down at my feet. "...No, sir. Not really."

I didn't bother to look up, but I could tell he was back to staring at the burned house in silence. I continued to stand there nervously, wondering if I should leave or not. This man was kind to me, but it seemed a bit forced and cold. Like he was hiding something from me. Almost like he knew that I was-

"Vanille, my dear," his deep voice sliced the silence in half.

I swallowed as quietly as I could and then peeked up at his profile. "...Yes... sir...?"

Mr. Rosch turned towards me, and bent down with one black jeans-clad knee on the ground. Looking into my face, he placed one gloved hand on my cheek. "We both well know that you're lying to me," his voice was hushed, but scary nonetheless. He gave me a forced, tight-lipped smile. "Do you know any townspeople here that would ever do such a thing to this poor, poor woman?"

My chest tightened so painfully that it was hard to breathe. I gave a shaky breath, and then replied, "No one I know that has lived here for a long time, sir..." my voice was as quiet as a mouse; I knew then that he knew I was holding something back. But, I couldn't tell him what I really knew! That would put Hope in grave danger!

"Nobody that has lived here for a long time..." Mr. Rosch repeated, looking off back towards the house. "And by a long time you mean...?"

I looked at the side of his face, and the back down at my feet as his hand on my cheek slid off. I could tell he looked at me again. "About one year, sir."

"About one year..." He repeated again. I began to grow annoyed.

Mr. Rosch stood back up and stared at the burned pail by what remained of the sliding back door. My heart nearly stopped in my chest. Before he could advance any closer to it, I peeped up.

"But, who knows!" I said, trying to sound cheerful. "You never really know people until you jump into their minds, or something!" I giggled.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was and glared at me.

...Glared at me.

I froze mid bounce, looking at him with slight shock.

"Thank you for your help, Vanille..." He said, and quickly turned away from me. "That's all I need from you. You're dismissed."

I slowly got back on my feet, giving the back of his head a weary stare. What was with the sudden change of attitude? He stood there, still as stone, not bothering to look back at me.

"You're dismissed." He repeated, voice harsher and deeper.

I quickly turned around and rushed away, not wanting him to start strangling me, or something.

He definitely was scary.

HOPE ESTHIEM

Hooper died this morning. My father buried him in the woods while I stood nearby and tried hard not to cry. My throat was dry and tight, my mouth parched. Dirt covered my whole body and stained my clothing. I wasn't wearing any shoes because my only good shoes were not to be used to farm.

Father and I stood there in silence as he stared at the makeshift grave he made for Hooper. Running his fingers through his short, gray hair, he shook his head, a perma-frown pasted to his face. I dug my dirty, jagged fingernails into the palm of my hands, trying to pay attention to the pain and not the tears stinging the back of my eyeballs. Father seemed like he had some tinge of sadness to him, too, but he had a way of not showing it, even when alone. Sometimes I wondered what he thought about in that screwed up head of his.

"I'm finished," his raspy voice said. It's surprising to hear it talking normally, and not yelling or cussing at God.

I lowered my head, not saying anything. He turned in his brown boots and looked at me. Probably in disgust.

"Time to get back to work." He said simply, and then walked pass me.
I stared at the grave a little while longer, and then turned around and followed him back to the farm.

Today was laundry day. As always, it was my job to carry the clothes to the laundry store. Without hardly glancing at me, mother dropped enough money to pay for washing our clothes in the palm of my hand, and then a few more extra coins.

Confused, I looked up at her. "Was is th-"

"Shh." She said, side-glancing at father, who was in the living room drinking and watching T.V. "Go to the public bathhouse and wash yourself while you're at it. You haven't bathed in days."

I closed my mouth and obediently took the money. Dropping it in my shorts pocket, I picked up the laundry basket and left the house through the front door, mother watching me.

"Hurry back!" My father yelled after me. "And buy me some beer while your out! 6-pack!"

"No money for that!" I spat back, and then rushed off before father could scold me for back-talking.

It was no surprise that the neighborhood kids, once again, were playing in the dirt streets. Today, they didn't bother look at me.

"Guess what!" One kid yelled to the other, I'm sure his name was Billy. He was overweight (same as his mother and father), and had the most annoying face ever. Made me want to punch it every time I saw him.

"Huh?" The boy that Billy shouted to kicked a dirty soccer ball back to him. He was Earl; the lanky, tall, stupid one of their group. Sam, the youngest one, stood beside him, waiting for the ball to be kicked to him.

"The Pulse Police Department people are here! I heard they're investigating the case about Mrs. Summers!" Billy said, as if that was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard.

What an asshole.

"Really!" Earl shouted back, catching the soccer ball between his feet. "We should go check it out!"

"No you boys aren't!" Earl's mother shouted from behind the short fence surrounding her house. "It's too dangerous over there!"

All three boys groaned just as I passed by them. Billy glanced at me, and then turned away. Earl's mother was around, so I was guessing they couldn't say anything cruel to me even if they wanted to.

Then, as soon as I turned the corner towards town square, I began to think.

...Wait. Mrs. Summers house? The Pulse Police Department? Was I going to get in trouble? Was I going to be accused for killing her!

Panic began to rise in my chest. And on my way to town square I had to pass by her house! This wasn't good; this wasn't good at all!

Soon after I attempted to calm myself down, I reached Mrs. Summers property. Yellow police tape surrounded it, and police cars were parked nearby. There was a small crowd of people rubber necking and slowing down as they passed by the home. I bit my bottom lip and tried to pass by as quietly and quickly as I could. If they saw me, it could very well be the end of me as I knew it!

The abandoned farm was across the street from the house, bringing back terrible memories. I could practically see Snow standing there, hands on his hips, eyeballing Mrs. Summers burned down house with satisfaction.

How sickening...

And, speaking of the devil, Snow was in the heart of the rubbernecking crowd, standing right next to the seen of the crime. He had a serious, stern face on, though. Almost like he was trying his hardest to hold something back. Even Snow seemed a bit worried at the sight of the Pulse police.

I watched, curious, as a man in a black trench coat removed some of the yellow police tape to let a crying woman step on Mrs. Summers property. He draped an arm around her shaking shoulders, leaned forward, and began whispering in her ear.

My slow trot came to a complete stop as I watched, curiosity getting the better of me. Fear washed over my face as he pointed to the burned pail that I carried to her house only days ago. The woman stared at the pail, her lips moving, but I couldn't make out what she was saying.

The black trench coat man took a step back from her, and turned to face the crowd. Smiling (why was he smiling?), he opened his mouth and spoke loudly, pointing at the pail. "A fine, fine steel pail! Made from a very nice material! The pail, remarkably, is not flammable, and will not burn from fire! Especially if it it raining! Now, none of you Cocoon residents could ever afford something such as this pail! Unless, of course, you were never from Cocoon in the first place!"

My eyes went straight to Snow, who had a slight pained look on his face. He turned away from the black trench coat man and began walking away, hands in pockets.

The man's challenging eyes turned to Snow. "Hold up a minute, young man!" He shouted after him. "Do I know you from somewhere?" His tone was light-hearted and mocking.

Oh no! That man was obviously suspecting Snow! I had to do something, and quick!

Without thinking twice, I dropped my laundry basket and spoke up, "What are you getting at! Do you honestly think none of these people in Cocoon could ever do such a thing!"

The man immediately stopped looking after Snow (who stopped walking), and turned to look at me, his eyes cold. "Excuse me?" He blinked very, very slowly.

The growing crowd turned to look at me, some in disgust, some in shock. Ignoring them, I kept my stare on the Police man. "I said," I began, trying to sound annoyed about repeating myself. "Do you honestly think no-"

He raised his hand and spoke over me. "I heard you. I just needed to confirm if you were the speaker or not."

I closed my mouth, feeling a glare washing over my expression. "So, what is your defense?"

He began walking towards me, the crowd clearing his way without thinking twice. I tried to keep my confident look, but it became harder and harder the closer he approached. As soon as he stepped right in front of me, he bent over so that we were face to face. I looked between his eyes and the badge on his chest.

"Let me introduce myself," he said. "My name is Yaag Rosch from the Pulse City Pol-"

"-The Pulse City Police Department," I finished, rolling my eyes. "I know, I know."

I felt him stare at me, but I didn't bother look him in the eyes. The crowd was unnervingly quiet. And, from the corner of my eye, I could see Snow still standing there.
"And you are?"

"I'm Hope." I said, looking at him, and then back at the badge on his chest. "Hope Esthiem."

"Well, Hope, my boy," he said, standing back up straight and staring down at me. "You have quite the mouth."

I smiled a crooked smile at that, still looking at his badge in silence.

"In my defense," He began, turning back towards Mrs. Summers's house. "I never once said that it couldn't have been someone in Cocoon. I scouted the area, and it seems to me that there may have been not one, but two suspects." He turned halfway to grin deviously at me. "And I am never wrong."

My words locked up in my throat. Chest tightening, I quickly looked at Snow, who still had a stern look on his face. But, from the corner of my eyes, I could see Yaag Rosch, still grinning deviously, blatantly-slowly- follow my eyes straight. Towards. Snow.

Snow met Yaag's eyes for a moment, his face morphing into what looked like between a grimace and a glare, and then turned around and continued walking away, but faster.

If I was ever scared before, I was practically pissing my pants now. We were dead! So, so dead! I basically gave myself away by staring at Snow; I couldn't believe this!

I timidly watched Yaag watch Snow disappear just as quickly as he arrived. After Snow was completely out of sight, he looked back at me, his eyes dancing. I glared at him, and then picked my laundry basket up, turning to leave.

"This should be interesting..." Yaag said, more to himself than to me. "Thank you for your time... Hope." He spat my name as if it was spoiled food on his tongue.

I didn't bother look at him, and took off down the dirt road.

Thank you for reading. Please contribute and review.

Also, I enjoy requests of other stories to make. Having your opinions are great for me.