My foot was tapping impatiently outside of Crystal's door. Where was she? Can't she see she's wasting my time? Granite, it wasn't like I had anything important to do other than pace my room boredly, but still! My time was precious!

I rang the doorbell again and pounded on her door sixteen times.

Finally the door wrenched open, and she stood there in all her disheveled glory.

"Are you seriously this much of an impatient child?" She snapped, arms crossing over her chest. Her blue eyes looked empty, and they were red and puffy.

I found my harshness towards her magically disappear. Strangely enough, I stepped cautiously towards her. She was leaning against the cracked door frame of her house--no it was more like a mansion.

My voice was soft, shocking the both of us, "You okay?"

Her once empty eyes flashed in an anger we both didn't think possible for her to possess. It was like we switched personalities.

"Like you care," She scoffed. "Just get lost Flynn! We both know you'd rather be doing who knows what--and don't act like you suddenly care or something!"

I could sense she was unraveling and was about to either throw a chair at me or start crying.

"Okay--okay," I said gently as if she were some rabid squirrel. "But if you need to talk--"

"As if I'd talk to you," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously?" I said, voice changing to annoyance. "I'm trying to help--"

"No, you're trying to help yourself. That's all you ever do--you're selfish," Crystal spoke, going to shut the door.

I stuck my foot out so it wouldn't close, "Seriously, what's your problem? You invited me here to talk to me. Actually, you demanded that I come over because you wanted to go over--"

Crystal sighed heavily like she was trying to explain something to an idiotic child, "I'll just e-mail you the information about Dylan! I just don't want to see you or talk to anyone right now, okay? Is that so hard to understand?"

I gaped at her, "What's going--"

"Nothing! And if you don't leave soon, I'm going to find someone else to be Dylan! SO just go?" Her voice was desperate--distant. I almost didn't want to go; I wanted to stay there, on her porch, and force her to sit down and tell me what was going on. I wanted her to just confide in me, but I wasn't that type of person. I couldn't be that type of person. Especially if I wanted to be Dylan and fight as Dylan.

So I gave Crystal one last look. I noticed how her hair, which was normally smelling of honey and soft--not that I'd know what it felt like--was now resembling straw as it was in messy wisps framing her face from her bun. Her cheeks were hollow looking moons, nothing like the usual natural rosiness of being out in the cold too long was there. Her clothes, normally immaculate and form fitting, now drowned out her figure making it look like she slept in them for weeks. The worst part was her frown, how it made her whole face sag down in worry and stress lines as if it was permanently filled with sorrow. Her sparkling blue eyes, once filled with excitement and hope, were now nothing more than empty wallets of poor men who were nothing more than a forgotten memory sitting on a bench by a street corner.

And right before she closed the door, I noticed the 'all-put-together' facade crumple as a look of defeat?--disappointment flashed on her face. It was as subtle as a tiny pinch of salt in a chocolate brownie.

Before it shut completely, I found myself speaking words I didn't know I possessed without a sarcastic undertone, "If you need anything at all, my door is open. What ever is going on, it's just a now thing. It won't be for forever, and maybe it's not as bad as you think. But if you need anything at all, I'm down the street."

I walked away, and only heard the door shut when I was leaving her driveway. Not knowing what was happening to me, I rubbed my face before looking back. I saw a confused expression etched on her face as she watched my from her living room window. When she saw me, she closed the curtain. 

I immediately shoved my hands into my deep pockets, gaze angled at my beat up sneakers. What was I doing? Why did I suddenly care about the likes of someone like Crystal? We were hardly able to have a conversation without one of us arguing or screaming at the other! There was also the fact she was two years older than me.....so it wasn't like we were best buddies. It wasn't like how we were as kids.

It's funny, how one day you look at yourself and you think I'm not a kid anymore. It seemed like yesterday I was running around, scrapping my knees, playing pick up games of basketball and soccer.

I couldn't help but smile slightly as I remembered when Crystal and I were friends.

Crystal was swinging on the swings, pumping her legs faster as the swing soared higher and higher.

"If you keep swinging that hard, you're going to smack into the pole," I pointed out as I lazily swung back and forth.

Crystal slowed down, "Yeah, well, maybe I want to smack into a pole."

"Says the person who's now swinging at a safe pace," I gave her a teasing smile.

She rolled her eyes, but shrank into the swing set when she heard her name being called.

"Is that--"

"My dad? Yep," she said bitterly, looking nervously at where the drunken, loud voice was coming from.

"He's not allowed to see you anymore, is he?" I stated matter-of-factly.

"Nope. But he's here anyway," she muttered, looking down at her toes.

I stopped swinging, "He won't find you--"

She glared at me, "Please don't lie, okay? I deal with enough of that as it is. You and I both know he'll come over here if my mom doesn't find a way to deal with him. Just do me a favor and shut up, would ya?"

"Cryssie," I said quietly.

"What now Flynn?!" She demanded, an annoyed look on her face masking the fear. She was good at that---hiding her emotions with something else.

"He's walking over here," I said, and this caused her head to jerk to the street.

A tall man was walking every which way in the street like he just got off a spinning ride. He almost fell over twice, and, surprisingly, he didn't drop the flask that he was clutching onto like it was his lifeline.

"He's drunk," Crystal said bluntly, blue eyes calculating the man. "Mom won't let me get in his car. She's probably calling the cops."

I looked at her, "Should we like--run or something?"

"Best not to agitate the beast. We stay still and stall. Make him feel like he's got all the time in the world, make him feel like we care and like him. It always works, and it makes him feel better," Crystal advised.

She was always the smarter one.

"Crystal!" The man bellowed as he hobbled over. "Come on now sweetie. I've been doin' good, and guess what?"

He was kneeling down in front of her swing, and I could smell the alcohol poisoning his breath from here. I couldn't imagine how Crystal was able to sit there as if she were a stone.

"That's great Dad," she said, smiling slightly, but I could tell it was all for show.

"This time it'll be different...I promise. I'm good--better now. I got myself a job, and I have my own place now, Sugar. Just come see it, would you? You can decorate your room however you want--and I bought your favorite icecream? How does that sound, Cryssie?" He asked, but I could hear the desperation--the pleading behind it.

Crystal's smile quivered, "That sounds wonderful Dad."

"Don't you cry," he muttered. "It's okay--I promise. Nothin' bad will happen, and everything's okay now---good. I promise--I'm seeing a lady--her name's Dr. Felice, and she's helping me with all of the stuff--"

Crystal pointed to her head, "Up there."

"Yeah baby girl, up there. Daddy's head isn't always okay, you know that. But it's better now, I promise," the man begged.

It was then we heard the siren's.

The man's eyes filled with fear, "Come on Cryssie, we have to go now, okay? We don't want the icecream to melt."

Crystal's blue eyes welled with tears, "Daddy--"

"We got to go now," he begged, voice filled with fear as he grabbed her hand. "It's--It's melting."

"Okay--okay Dad," Crystal's voice wavered as she slowly got up from the swing.

"Don't cry--why are you crying? Did I--Did I do something?" He asked softly--worriedly.

"No Daddy," Crystal whispered, voice cracking.

The man sank to his knees as the police's footsteps grew louder. It was then I realized they were running towards us; Crystal's mom shouting something at an officer. But to Crystal and her Dad it was like they were the only people there. It was like everyone else was invisible. It was like I was invisible.

The man gave her a small, uncertain smile as he rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Everything's going to be good, Cryssie, I promise. It's different now," he promised.

Crystal started sobbing as she collapsed into her Dad's arms. He held onto her gently, hand cradling the back of her head.

"Shh Cryssie, Daddy's here. He isn't going anywhere, everything's going to be okay," he whispered, tears welling into his own eye as he held onto her tightly.

"Sir, we are going to ask you once to let the child go," A police officer spoke in a voice demanding compliance and seeping with authority.

"It's okay Crystal," he spoke softly, not answering the officer.

"Sir!" She ordered, "Let go of Crystal!"

"He's going to hurt her!" The mom shouted, hysterical as a police officer held her back. "He's drunk--insane!"

Crystal held onto her father tighter, "Dad--you need to let me go."

"It'll be different--I promise," his voice cracked.

"I know...I know Daddy, but these people don't believe you. They don't believe you like how I believe you. They aren't going to let you bring me to your new apartment. They are going to hurt you Daddy, and we can't eat icecream if you're hurt, right?" Crystal's voice was small, but it screamed logic and reasoning. It screamed of a maturity no ten year old should comprehend.

He didn't look like he wanted to comply, but it was the fact that Crystal asked him to that he did. Tears streamed down his face as he sat on the ground in defeat.

"I promise Crystal--I promise," he kept repeating it as the cops handcuffed him.

"Alright, come on Charles," the man spoke as if he was so used to doing this, he now was on a first name basis with all the people involved.

"I know Daddy, I know," Crystal whispered, tears falling down her cheeks faster, like waterfalls.

"Don't you worry about me, okay? You'll be picking out wall paints before you know it, okay!" He said, smiling reassuringly at her.

Crystal smiled, but it was shaky, just like the rest of her.

"Okay," she spoke.

"I love you," he called towards her.

"I love you too, Dad," she spoke.

I suddenly was able to move, and I walked over towards her side.

"They can't do that," I muttered to myself. "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

"Yes they can, now be quiet," Crystal muttered.

"No!" I screeched. "You can't do this! This isn't fair! Can't you see she wants to be with him? Can't you see that? He's doing better! He has a job--a house!"

It was like I was screaming into a dark, empty abyss. My words reaching no one, like they were drowning in the ocean.

"Shut up!"  Crystal huffed angrily at me, before her Mom ran over. The woman scooped Crystal in her arms, kissing her cheeks. Crystal winced, cringing in disgust as she pushed the woman away. I saw the way her mom's fingers curled forcefully around Crystal. I saw the dangerous glint in the woman's eyes.

It was then I knew what monsters truly looked like. They were people like Crystal's mom who happened to trick people into thinking the good ones, like Crystal's father, were the real demons.

I didn't realize I was standing in front of the park in the middle of the neighborhood until I was swinging on a swing. I never knew if Crystal got to pick out the colors for her room. I never knew if they got to eat the icecream.

I didn't even know what her favorite icecream was.