Daniella Mccurly hissed as the scorching sun got into her eyes. The heat was unbearable.

"Hey Angus! Is the summer in Texas always this hot?" She asked with slight irritation in her voice.

Her elder brother did not seem to hear her, or maybe he was not listening. He was too meticulous about having the right turn to Kent drive, counting the number of streets they had passed. Daniella sighed hard. It wasn't as if his answer could stop the heat anyway.

She closed her eyes, remembering what even got them to this trip in the first place. She had been ten and Angus eighteen when their parents were lost in a train wreck. Angus became her father, mother, brother and maybe a sister since then. He hadn't been bad at it, Dani thought.

Finally, he answered, "Yes, Dani! What was the question again?" She groaned and rolled her eyes, "Never mind! I figured it out."

Angus sighed, she was certainly angry, "I'm sorry. I'm making sure I do not miss.... Ohh, here it is!"

She looked out the window and found a road climbing a hill, aligned with trees and houses that well suited the era. So this was her new home now? How she missed Newyork, her friends, Miss Peggy, everyone. All for a crime Angus did not commit. Running away, was that the best thing to do?

Well, she did not care, she believed her brother was innocent. Smirking, she asked, "So where are we living?"

Her brother smiled, "Wait for it...!"

Daniella wondered why Angus made it sound so important. But then, she saw the house, pleasant and pretty. Yet, she frowned, mainly because she knew it was clearly more than they could afford. Plus, Angus did not have a job, "Where did you get the money to..."

Angus waved the question away, "Oh forget that, just feel at home."

Then Angus Mccurly, five foot tall, brown-haired and fairly good looking, walked to the house before she could ask more questions.

Daniella shivered in fear and shook the first thought that got into her head. Could Angus have... No way! He did not kill her.

The marble panels smiled at her, she smiled back. She seemed to love the porch, and the lobby. Then she walked a little bit more into the house and was really disturbed. Where could Angus have gotten the money to buy such a house? Maybe from the murder? No?

The sight of a picture at the corner snapped her out of her thoughts. It was a painting of a smiling girl. Whoever she was, she was beautifully painted.

What could go wrong in Texas? She could just adapt, live on and even make friends, she hoped. She could try, maybe one day, she would smile as bright as the girl in the picture.

Then the night came, making her horribly wish the scorching sun could come again. The nights were noticeably cool. It seemed like it would freeze her. In sweatpants and a vest, she walked barefoot to the living room, finding her brother in the middle of a rugby match.

She slumped unto the chair,"So... What are we gonna be doing here for a living?"Angus took the coffee from her hand,"I was thinking of opening a grocery store right beside us."

She frowned, "Nice! But I was thinking you would say we found employment somewhere so we could get paid, not spending money to open a store."

"I would say that if we did not have the money to open the store, " Angus patted his laps.

The same uneasy feeling returned. "Where is all the money coming from?" Daniella asked rather seriously this time.

Yet, Angus gave the same non-chalant reply, "Forget it, I will tell you everything when the time is right. To tell you the truth, the store is already ready. It is next door."

Daniella just could not believe it. He had all these planned without her, the first time that happened. Normally, Angus would seek advice from his nineteen year old sister. She believed him still. He would tell her when the time was right. Okay, very well.

* * *

Running a store was such a difficult thing to do. It was as if the entire street ran out of grocery. What made it harder was answering all their questions, "What is your name?" "Where were you before now?" "When did you move in?" "Are you married?" The last one gave Daniella a heartburn. Not as if it wasn't possible but, at her age?!

This was asked by a geezer certainly above sixty-five, with a smile on his face. No! She certainly did not do old men.

"Hey, how can I help you?" Daniella asked the fellow who approached the stand. He did not seem to hear her, or maybe he did but ignored her. He was young, about twenty, a bit taller than she was.

Again, he had the darkest hair she had ever seen, with black rings around his eyes as if he hadn't slept for ages. His lip edges were dark from smoking, wearing clothes as dark as night. Weirdo! She thought.

She repeated her question, "Do you need anything?"

This time, the fellow looked at her with hate and disgust. She wished Angus were here. Too bad he was busy placing new orders. The lad looked like he wanted to kill her for asking such a question.

Just then, a woman most likely to be his mom rushed up to him and held his arm, "Sorry I left you Andrew, errhmm...?"

"Daniella, Daniella Mccurly, " Dani replied. The woman continued, "Daniella, good. Lettuce and artichoke please."

Daniella nodded but still had her look on this Andrew guy. His mother forced a smile, "Oh, never mind him, if he said anything, he did not mean it."

Daniella shrugged, "Would have been better if he did, he literally said nothing to me."

Andrew's mom gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, don't take it to heart. He is...mentally disturbed."

Daniella huffed, looked pretty obvious to her. With all the signs of a drug addict written on him, she could expect nothing more. Immediately, Andrew pulled his arm out of his mother's grip and walked out angrily. Daniella quickly took her orders and the woman rushed out for her son. Bummer! Daniella shook her head and sighed. Such drama.

* * * *

Andrew slammed the door behind him, not even letting his mom get into the house. He tossed the bag of grocery to a corner, then stood quietly, rage written all over him. Then his mom opened the door and got into the house, "I'm sorry sweetie, I..."

Andrew grimaced, "Oh please! Now what's the excuse this time for telling the world your son is mentally unstable? Mom, do I look crazy to you?" In every way, he did. The annoying fact about mentally disturbed people was that they never tagged themselves as crazy. His mother sighed.

"No sweetie, you are not crazy!" She lied.

Andrew hit the table hard, "So why do you keep saying that to everyone?" His dark hair fell to his face due to his hyperactivity. The mother of this twenty-one-year old hissed, "I'm sorry dear but the doctor..."

"Forget what that stupid doctor says!"

He turned away, ignoring the inquisitive looks on the faces of his family. Walking through to his room, he locked the door.

The Stephen's were the wealthiest in the estate and consequently, it showed in everything they owned, including dogs. They could never ask for more, except for Andrew's recovery. Ever since his highschool, he had gone into drugs, a choice that affects him still. He developed melancholy and the fellow still believes the cause will cure him.

He yanked the door of his closet open and got the last of the hemp. He needed to get more soon. Tearing the wrap open, he sat and sniffed as if it was a remedy he needed immediately. Then he saw that shadow again; that one he always saw, the one that always got him off balance and certainly, the only thing he feared. A man with a knife. Andrew screamed and scattered the substance on the table everywhere, trying to get the thought out of his head.

Then the shadow was gone. Tears welled up in his eyes. Maybe his family was right. He was going crazy.