ASH AND DUST, JAN

[ANA BLACKWOOD]

She was excited to see January. January Jonas, her former best friend. It had been crazy running into him here, in Myrtle Beach. They went to the same college. After moving away from San Antonio, she never thought that she would see him again. That thought had been sad, at the time, but she'd eventually gotten over it. She'd had to. Ana couldn't just dwell on losing a best friend her whole life; that wasn't healthy. There were times that she thought back to him, wondered how he was doing, how life had treated him. But she'd moved on, more or less. She had bigger fish to fry, other things to concentrate on. She had to learn to support herself, leave her family behind. Her wanderlust had gotten the better of her for a few years, and she moved around. City after city, state after state. Never leaving the country, but there was a good amount of space between each place she lived. For a year or two, she could only really support herself by conning men out of their money, so getting far away from them was the goal. She'd become a good liar, learned to pick locks, and gotten involved in things that her mother would not have been proud of.

In short, she was not the same girl that she had been all those years ago. She was no longer the tomboy that flung mud around, and ripped the legs off of grandaddy longlegs. But he wasn't the same boy that he had been, either. Something was different about him, something that she couldn't quite place. But that didn't matter to her. She was happy to have him back. They'd been hanging out some since they'd reconnected- there was that first night, when she evidently got blackout drunk. She wasn't all that proud, to be honest. All she had to show for it was a set of scars on her inner thigh that spelled out his initials. Yes, it was rather weird. But she had gotten over that. Ana didn't like to stay on things for very long. It just led her to think things she shouldn't, say things she shouldn't, do things she shouldn't- and that was a mess that no one wanted to deal with.

Turning up the music, Ana danced around her small home. He was coming over, soon, to hang out. As usual, her house was a mess. That just wouldn't do. She was having company, and even though she really shouldn't care what Jan thought, she did. Other peoples' opinions weighed very heavily on her as a person. She knew that he would be here at any time, when she looked at the clock. Time management had never really been a strong suit of hers, she was constantly doing things at the very last minute. She was notorious for it among the teachers of her university. It was a fault of hers that she really should have done something about, but she didn't. Just let it be. She was fine the way she was, and it had never really caused her any problems. Quickly, she fired off a text to Jan. 'Door is unlocked, just let yourself in when you get here.' And then she set about cleaning what she could.

She had made a good amount of headway by the time she heard the door open. Her whole room was clean, and that was good enough for her. It had been where most of the mess was, anyways. Sighing, she brushed her hands off on her thighs and prepared to stand up and call for him, to let him know where she was. It might be useful to know. But then a piece of paper between her nightstand and her bed caught her eye. Leaning forward, she unfolded it and scanned it quickly. What she saw was not something that she particularly wanted to read.

It told her the story of the night Jan tried to kill her. She'd written it that night. She knew that was what the hastily scribbled DANGER -> NOTE message on her arm had referred to. She'd just somehow misplaced the note. And now she'd found it, more or less right as he walked into her house. Standing, she quickly folded it and tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. Straightening her tank top, she walked out and looked for him, an oddly still look on her face. She was terrified. Was she going to let it show? Most certainly not. He had tried to kill her once before, and failed. She'd gotten away. She could do it again. "January, we need to talk. What happened that night that I don't remember?" This was a lie. She did remember. She remembered everything. But she wanted to hear him lie to her one more time. Then she could know it was true. He had done it. This wasn't a joke.

[january]

[/style][style=width: 420px; height: 250px; padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; overflow: auto; border-left: 10px solid #660198;]He hadn't been able to think of anything, or anyone but her for days. His mind had been plagued by her smile, her shining emerald eyes, the long golden locks that hung perfectly over her shoulders, curls bouncing when she laughed. He hated feeling this way. He hated knowing that he was in love, and with a girl he knew would never love him back, because he had tried to kill her, and continued to plot her death in the back of his mind. He knew that she would have to go. It was the only way that he would be able to rid himself of these feelings; these thoughts that tortured him, but no matter how much he wanted her dead, no matter how much he hated thinking about her constantly, he was actually excited to see her that afternoon. He had left his house not but ten minutes ago and strolled the streets of Myrtle Beach in the direction of her house. He hadn't bothered to take his old beat up car due to the blood stain in the back seat that he had yet to clean. Honestly, he was beginning to give up. He didn't really want to get caught, that would be a bad thing. He had been in jail before, well, juvenile detention, but he figured that it was pretty much the same thing, and even if he could handle himself, he had the kind of face that wouldn't do so well. Just thinking about what could happen to him in jail, brought up memories he had hoped he had buried with every body of every blond girl he had killed. January shook his head, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his grey slacks. He couldn't bare to remember his father's beatings. The pain that had been inflicted on him and not his siblings, the emotional pain had hurt more than the physical, psychologically scaring him for life. It was what had drove him into insanity and soon so serial murder. His victims had been chosen based on their appearance. At first, it had been because they reminded him of his mother, and how ignorant she had been towards him and what his father had been doing to him, but soon turned into nothing of the sort. He began to chose the tall blonds for their charm and appeal. He would proceed to take them away from the world and to a shitty motel under the influence of whatever drug he was able to get his hands on. There he rape them, and eventually kill them after a little torturous fun. Now, he was just getting bored of it all; it was repetitious, and lacked any real excitement. Which is why he liked Ana; her having got away the first time brought the excitement back into his life, and although the frustrations were there, he knew that soon he'd be able to ger her where he wanted her, and have his way.

Arriving, January was just about to knock on the door when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, just next to his hand. Looking down, he wrapped his fingers around the device and pulled it from his pocket. He looked at the screen, a small smirk pulling at the left corner of his lips as he saw that Ana had texted him; just the girl he wanted to see. Quickly, he unlocked the device and read the message sent to him. Nodding to himself, he didn't bother to answer, and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He pulled both hands out, and opened the door, slipping inside. "Ana?" He called out, but just as he had uttered her name, there she was standing in front of him. He smiled at little at her, but it seemed to fade quickly, her question confusing him. What had brought this so suddenly? What had caused her to bring up such a night? She knew what had happened; he had told her: she had gotten drunk and blacked out. Of course, it was the lie he had told her to cover up the real truth, but the truth was something that would ruin her, and would just cause him to move forward in his plans to re-attempt to murder her. January swallowed and looked at her quizzically, but the look quickly changed to that of slight joy. He chuckled and glanced at the floor before looking up and into her eyes. He strolled over so that he was standing in front of her, a smirk in his lips. "You know what happened." He stated, reaching up and running his fingers over a few loose strands of her hair that had landed on her shoulder. He watched the, for a second before looking back at his friend. "Why is it I need to repeat myself?"

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