Today was not the best of days as she sat at the end of the swimming dock, one of the few offered at the beach if you decided to dive in the water rather than wade out to deeper water. It was about 9:00 a.m. and rarely did people swim so early. The beach was practically deserted and that was how Callie liked it. It was her quiet time, thinking time. Today’s thought topic; pain. Boy did her body ache.

It was a few days after she had been with Charlie. The happy moments that she had experienced though had been wiped out with the current predicament. She knew she needed to leave her mother, but just couldn’t. Where was she supposed to go? How would she get money? She hardly knew anything about the world and her mother had made sure to that just for the reason that she did not want Callie to leave her alone.

Her jacket lay next to her as she never went anywhere without it. Jean shorts were rolled up a bit at the bottom and a white t-shirt was stained at the neck a little bit with blood. Her hair was let down and the wind blew it gently. It was amazing what a little breeze could do to help a battered and tortured soul. She may not act it around others at times, always trying to put on a happy façade, but always deep down the conflict of her well-being was always feuding and a never ending battle of emotions was jumbled and confused.

Bare feet were dipped in the water, a refreshing sensation to a havoc night at the cabin. It resulted with several physical scars, but always the more severe wounds were of the mind. Her face had been cut on the right cheek where her mother hit her with a broken beer bottle. It sliced the skin, but wasn’t terribly deep. Luckily her mother had just nicked her as she tried to dodge the blow. The arm that was almost healed now had a new set of bruises and a few cuts from glass. One bruise was on the right side of her neck as well as a bruise on her right leg. For the most part her left side was completely alright, showing that most of the assault occurred from the right.

A sigh was released as she looked down at the water. It wasn’t at all like the wonderful turquoise water from Crete. Here it was dirty and you couldn’t even see two feet below the water’s surface. Face was slightly red from crying after the attack. The whole situation was starting to wear her down and she was hardly sleeping anymore out of fear. Was there no end to the madness?

Charlie (to be specific George in Charlie's body in control) was walking on the beach. He had been feeding seagulls old bread earlier. He had come down to collect some driftwood, if he could find any interesting pieces of it. There had been a few storms the last few days, and when it rained interesting flotsam washed up on the beach, Charlie liked to beach comb, he never knew what he'd find. Sometimes he came out here with his metal detector. Now he was simply wasting time. He didn't have to open the shop today even though his boss was attending an antique show. so he had literally nothing to do.

He watched the beach, little crabs skittering in the sand, the gulls circling and diving. In the distance he could see someone playing frisbee with a dog. Closer he could see someone sitting on the swimming dock. He decided to stroll down to the end of it.

As he walked quietly down the dock in barefeet and his rolled up khaki trousers he recognized Callie.

"Hello there." he said quietly to her as she seemed to be deep in thought.

Train of thought broke as the familiar voice of Charlie was heard behind her. However she did not turn around as she did not want him to see her this way. But in a sense she was glad to know that he was still there. A friend amongst the darkness of her life. He did not question her when he was so open with her. He did not probe her trying to figure out what she was. It was refreshing and for once she felt she had a friend that liked her for who she was and not because of some pretty voice. She’d made an attempt to give up singing, but with her love for music it was so hard to resist the temptation.

”The water is so dirty here.” She spoke without turning around to see him. Seagulls squawked and hollered over head, diving down to the water in search of fish. It was interesting to watch however her attention was still diverted to the presence of Charlie.

”Have you ever wondered what makes someone act the way they do? Why is the world so cruel to those that are different or choose to be different?” Gaze was cast downwards, watching the waves roll in and out.

He sat down next to her. "I don't know, I'm sorry." he answered, no doubt Charles would have had a conspiracy theory or two to explain it, but he didn't. He looked to her after sitting, she was watching the waves. That was when he saw the cuts and bruises. Her appearance explained why she looked so downcast and seemd to be philosophical this morning. He didn't ask, instead he simply put an arm around her, he was deliberately gentle so as not to jar her injuries.

"It is dirty isn't it, maybe people are like the ocean and they get polluted and full of murk and garbage inside, I don't know though." He told her softly. "I'm going to guess you don't want to talk about what happened, so what would you like to talk about instead?" he asked her in soothing tones, even though his voice was very deep and rich.

”No reason for you to apologize. You’ve been nothing but kind. It is something that does not happen often in my life.” She finally looked to him, showing the more damaged side of her face in detail. Her hazel eyes did not have their usual spirit but seemed only to hold despair. Though she tried to make the best of the situation.

Charlie put his arm around her which was something she wasn’t used to as well. It was a whole new sensation to her. It was caring and gentle and warm. She loved it and helped her work a smile onto her face. He respected her and did not ask her what happened. He was different than Erik, though she loved Erik just he same. Both of the men had been nice to her (well three if you include two in one) and it puzzled her somewhat. Her mother had always told her that men were dogs that couldn’t see past the physical beauty and did nothing but harm. On the other hand the men she has met were quite nice and her mother was the one that was violent and harsh. So what did that mean? Was her entire mental belief just a figment of her imagination? Was it planted there by her mother?

”Kool-Aide is nice.” She laughed. The thought of the drink from the last visit all of a sudden was vivid in her mind. The drink was now associated with Charlie and Kool-Aide was good so Charlie was good. How could two things go together and one or the other be bad? It just wasn’t possible.

"Yes, we can go get some after a bit if you like." he tells her, glad she can at least smile as bad as she looks. Her eyes are so sad today. "I think I should make you watch Disney movies, maybe the light will come back to your eyes then."

He trails his feet in the water and watches the waves with her. "I have the day off, so if you'd like to do anything I'll be glad to run you to do it, or we can get lunch or something in a while. whatever you'd like." he says.

She laughed a bit when he said he should make her watch a Disney movie. She wasn’t sure what that was, but if he thought it would make her feel better then it was worth a shot.

”I don’t think we should get lunch anywhere. I’m not in the best shape to do that.” She wasn’t talking about her cuts, but she was talking about her shirt that was blood stained. It was kind of gross and doubted any restaurant or fast food place would allow her in.

”But I would love to do something.” Anything so long as I don’t have to go back home any sooner. Her voice almost sounded desperate to get away from her current situation.

"Well I could fix us lunch when you get hungry too, if you'd rather do that. I didn't mean to take you as you are though, if I were going to. " He told her.

He did wonder what had hapened to her but he wouldn't ask, Charles no doubt would have figured it out, but at the moment Charles was somewhat far away.

"So did you want to sit here for a while?" he asked her, he didn't want to ruch her, though it occured to him she could clean up at his apartment and he could likely give her a clean shirt and wash the one she had on there.

”Thank you.” Not only did the thought of lunch sound good not in a public place or at home make her happy, but if Charlie was the one fixing the food no doubt he had other great products like he did the Kool-Aide.

”I think I’ve already qualified for sitting here long enough. I got here just before the sun rose this morning.” Which would probably be around 6:00 a.m.

"I haven't been here that long." he said rising and then offered her a hand to her feet.

He pauses to take out his pocket watch and look at it, "I've been here just under two hours, though I waswnh't dressed for the beach, I didn't know where I was going at first this morning. Just drove around for a while and wound up here." he said.

Which would be why he is wearing only a rolled pair of Khakis at the moment. He left the rest of his clothes in the van. Shirtless, one would think he comes here often though, he has a nice tan.

She grabbed hold of the offered hand and stood up. It was a little sore to walk on her bruised leg, but she was used to it by now and had grown a tolerance almost to walking with pain and not being able to show it.

”You like to drive around a lot don’t you.” Her voice was a little bit more cheerful at this point. Being around Charlie seemed to have a nice affect on her mood. ”You look like you belong on the beach.”

"Oh yeah, I like to drive. I like it out here too though." he said gesturing around him with wide arms. He notices she is having a little trouble with her leg and he gives a small frown, if it only seems slight he suspects she is trying to downplay it. "Here," he says holding out an arm to her,"Lean on me, I'll help you out and this way I won't walk to fast for you." he offered.

As he offered her an arm to lean on, she wasn’t sure what to think. He seemed to read her pretty well, even when she tried to hide things. Did that mean he already knew what she was? He’d said he knew she wasn’t human, but he didn’t say specifically what.

”Thanks.” She leaned on him gently. ”Oh wait.” She leaned down and grabbed her jacket. ”Can’t forget this.” She placed it over her arm and then leaned on him again to help her leg out a bit as they walked off the dock.

He waited while she got her jacket and then they made their way at an easy pace to the van. He opened her door and helped her climb in before pulling on hs shirt, and shoes in order to drive. Once she had her seatbelt on and he'd buckled his own he started the vehicle up. "You want your window down Callie?" he asked her as they pulled off the beach and out onto the road.

She got into the passenger seat and watched as he put on his shirt and shoes. As he got in to the driver’s seat she put on her seat belt. The vehicle roared to life, always a thrill, and then he asked her if she wanted her window down.

”Yes please. It’s amazing what a little breeze will do to lift one’s spirits.” She smiled and then looked out the window as it rolled down.

He drove around for a little while, he was in no hurry and she seemed to enjoy it. As far as he knew she wasn't in a hurry either. So it took him more than and hour to reach the shop. They were both dry by then. Once he parked he helped her out just as he had helped her into the van. Then he'd offered his arm after helping her down so she could leanon him again. He was very careful to help her up the shop steps and again up the stiars to his apartment once they were inside.

He helpe her to the couch and got her a glass of koolaide straight away. Then he asked, "Would you want to borrow a shirt? I can wash that one for you?"

She seemed not to pay attention to the long drive. It gave her time to think. Think of what she should do. However no matter how much she thought about doing something, she never seemed to put it into action. She just stayed where she was and dealt with the nightly torment of being at the cabin. The torment she dealt with was none that could be compared to by any person. Most people can move away from the tormentor or just grow up and move away. But Callie could not. Growing older extremely slowly definitely had its draw backs. That and being inhuman. She’d dealt with the torment for over 50 years and no end was in sight. But perhaps the despair was clouded, if only briefly, when she was around Charlie. Sure it was only the second time with him, but it was a joyful time for her. Her mother wasn’t around and almost anytime not around her was joyful. But Charlie made the time extra fun.

The stopping of the car brought back out of her thoughts. They were at the shop. Charlie got out of the car and came over to her side. She unfastened her seat belt as he opened the door and accepted the help once more.

Sitting down on the couch once they got up the stairs she tried to get rid of the unhappy thoughts. The glass of Kool-Aide was a great way to get rid of the unhappy memories. Though she made herself not drink it as quickly this time.

”I don’t want to be too much trouble.” She didn’t want to create more work for him than she already had.

"Huh? Why would hat be any trouble, I should wash my laundry anyway while we watch a movie. You want some cheetos with that?" he asked her as she drank her koolaide.

She wondered it that's why she got beat up, for creating too mcuh trouble. Somehow it shouldn't surprise him that someone so non-assertive and mild mannered could provoke such rage. The world could be a sick place, he knew from visiting mental institutions.

She cast her gaze downward, feeling a bit embarrassed for what she said. ”Do you have a shirt that would fit?” Well perhaps she meant one that wouldn’t be too big for her, seeing as she was on the smaller side. The bleeding from her cheek had at least stopped and was hopefully attempting to scab over.

”What are cheetos?” If that wasn’t the strangest name for food she didn’t know what was. Of course they weren’t something natural, not grown from the ground or from a tree which was probably why she didn’t know about them. The only food she had was usually grown from the small garden her mother had made several years back or from a few apple trees they planted. Rarely did she get anything from the store. Ice cream was the one thing she knew about because her mother grew fond of it after trying it one time. So on occasion ice cream was brought home.

Callie brought her bare feet up onto the couch, bringing her knees close to her chin. She wrapped her arms around them as if cradling herself for comfort after waking from a bad dream.

"Probably only a size too big, shouldn't be too bad, lemme go check on that though." He opens a bag of cheetos and hands it to her before going into his room for a couple of minutes. He comes back out with a plain black t-shirt that doesn't look like she'd swim in it.

"You like them?" He asks regarding the cheetos as he hands her the shirt. Then he starts fishing out all of the disney movies so she can pick one to watch.

He gave her the back of cheetos and then headed back into the bed room. She looked at the bag with the strange orange sticks inside. She put her feet back down on the ground and opened the top of the bag and peered inside. Reaching in she pulled one out and looked at it for a moment. It definitely didn’t look like something you could grow.

Placing it in her mouth she began to chew. What a strange texture and it crunched rather loudly. Though despite all this, as she swallowed it, she realized it had a fascinating taste. Rather cheese like in fact. She popped another one in her mouth. Just as tasty as the first. What was Charlie trying to do to her? Turn her into a junk food addict?

Hearing Charlie she turned to face him. He asked how she liked them. ”They are very delicious.” Just as she ate another one.

As if he has done it intentionally, he hasn't been actively thinking to corrupt her diet. "Ah good, glad you like those." he says, he's also trying to avoid giving her meat for fear there is some reason she he has never had it.

He really does wonder though, what sort of life she has had to never have had cheetos. "Here are the movies." he says handing her the stack he has gathered. "Pick whichever one looks good and I'll go round up my laundry. Oh you can change in the bathroom or my room if you want whichever you'd rather use so you can have some privacy." and then he went down the to end of his little hallway where his washing machine and dryer were and started sorting out whites.

When he came back from that a few minutes later he was singing, "Quack, Quack, YEAH I'm back, Quack Quack."

He handed her the shirt and slowly she got up and walked to the bathroom and changed. When she came out her white t-shirt was in hand and black t-shirt was on, hanging loosely seeing as it was one size too big.

She sat back down on the couch and looked at the movies he offered. However her attention was soon distracted as she heard the familiar quack quack coming from the other Charlie. She smiled at him.

”Hello Charlie.” She greeted him with a smile; though she had a feeling that the laundry would be put on hold for now. The doubt that Charlie did laundry was great in her mind.

”Did you want to watch the movie?”

"OOOOooohhhhhhhhh, ChEEEETooos! he says, I can't stay too too long, hard to be two places at once and carrying on two conversations. He made a frown at her. You okay?" he takes a few cheetos and eats them then takes her wrist gently turning her arm and examining it, then he does this with the other and shakes his head after taking a minute to look at her face. "Callie, Where do you go that this happens?" You don't have to answer but I can probably guess in a couple of guesses, George won't ask, but I will, crazy guys don't have to have manners. And I can blurt out outrageous things too....." his face is still sad.

"Not yet George I wanna know....." he mumbles.

She laughs as he screams for cheetos. He eats a few and she watches with amusement. Though the amusement turned to a frown as he actually got quite serious and started to look at her arms in great depth. What was he going to think? Obviously he was more out right in asking questions that George was. And then it came. He wanted to know. His sad face was breaking her heart, but it was so hard to tell. Her gaze turned away from Charlie and to the floor.

”I don’t go anywhere.” That was the problem. When she went somewhere she stayed relatively okay. It was when she went home that the problems started happening. Maybe he would pick up on that or maybe he would ask her what she meant by that. Who knew? Charlie was so unpredictable.

For a crazy man Charlie can be very perceptive, "Hummm, it happens at home then." He gently lays his finger tips against some of the bruises on her neck and throat, it's clear to see where they match up with finger tips. "Some one smaller, Mom or an older sister, cuase you don't strike me as the type to live with a girlfriend, and soething tells me you don't have a boyfriend."

"Tell George you don't want to leave, He won't make you." Charlie says, becuase it's true and because he believes in being blunt. There are times when George's good manners just get in the way of what makes sense to Charlie. His statements aren't questions he knows his guesses are close enough, he has seen battered people in psych wards and hospitals his whole life. He frowns again, "I know you don't want to talk about it, But I think you need to do something about it." he says then he hugs her, but not too hard.

She continues to stay away from eye contact as he speaks and tries to place fingers on the bruises. Indeed her mother had battered her for so long that the submissive gestures she made were instinctive for she knew what made her mother calm down, but only after the angered fit.

Charlie was getting pretty warm to being right. Well at least one of his guesses was right. She was an only child and he was right on not having a significant other of either gender.

He told her that she should tell George that she didn’t want to leave. But she wasn’t that type of person to ask for what she wanted. If it was offered she might take it up, but otherwise she refrained from the ‘wanting’ thoughts. Maybe that was why she never left. Callie wasn’t a girl of actions. It wasn’t apart of her thought process to do something about the situation, only think about ways to deal with it.

”I can’t.” She wanted to say you wouldn’t understand, but that was only because she wasn’t telling them why. It was all just so complicated.

"You are right, You can't as long as you believe you can't.....Stay here then and don't ask, I'll make sure George knows. Don't tell me you can't when I just told you too." he said his eyes still sad as he spoke to her.

At the same time he was carrying on two more conversations, one in a dream, or was this the dream? And the other with George, for once they were agreeing on some things.....

A lecture. Joy. But deep down she knew he was right. But her fear of standing up to her mother was so great by this point she doubted she would ever get from underneath the grasp. She took one hand and placed it on her other arm in a slight grip. Perhaps it made her feel better? Who knows.

She slumped back against the couch no longer interested in Kool-Aide or Cheetos. A sick feeling in her stomach was starting to well up in to a knot.

"I have to go, but I will come back, if I feel the need to, George is a pushover at times." he warns softly.

Then George sits down and begins shaking his head, a bit dizzy after having control of his body again. "Sorry for that, He's right, but he really should have been more delicate." he tells her. He's made up his mind that if she insists on being droppd off this time, He'll leave Charlie in the body and go after her as his invisible ghost self.

”Good bye Charlie.” She gave him a last minute hug as himself and then sat back as George shook his head and returned. He apologized and she could only offer a half smile.

”It’s alright.” Callie didn’t feel much like watching a movie anymore. Suddenly she felt unmotivated to do anything. The feeling came to her every once in a while and she hated it, but felt there was nothing she could do about it. Her fingers removed themselves from the grip on her arm and headed for her golden locket. They fiddled with it once more. She often did so when she was bored or nervous.

”Were you still going to do laundry?” She just remembered what was going on before Charlie came back. Nothing like changing subjects.

"Yes, of coarse, I should put this in and go start it." he said picking up the shirt she'd sat down. Taking it down the hall, he went and started the machine. Then he came back and sat on the couch again. He gave her a crooked smile, "You are sad now, You don't want to watch a movie, We can play a game instead if you want." he really did feel aweful now and wante to cheer her up again.

He took her shirt and went down the hallway once more. The sickening sensation in her stomach continued to rest there, not wanting to leave. She wasn’t sure why it was there. Perhaps the questions Charlie wanted answered were apart of it. Desperately she wanted to tell them everything, but something kept telling her she shouldn’t. Of course she had that feeling with everyone. That the burden to keep it secret was of top most priority. But she had told Erik? What made Charlie different? The frustration of what to do was getting to be almost too much.

As he came back and sat down she tried to put on a smile. He offered to play a game instead. At least he wasn’t trying to back to the same subject again.

”What game?” Her voice was soft as she tried to regain composure after the questions from Charlie.

"Do you know Chinese checkers Callie, or would you rather play cards?" He asked her trying not to sound too serious. Then he looked at her, making sur he looked her in the eyes, even though he knew she would look down. "You don't have leave, and you can come back anytime. Now, I'm sorry again, pick a game please." he really did look very sorry.

He asked her what she wanted to play and neither game sounded familiar. She’d never played games before. After all, who would want to play games with their parents? The only game she played was when she was really little and back at Crete with a few other sirens she knew. Though the games ended up being deadly in the end for passing men. When she realized that the game was wrong she gave it up, which meant she gave up singing as well. It was hard, considering it was supposed to be her one gift, but she didn’t want to mess with feelings like that.

And then he went back to the more serious conversation. He said she didn’t have to leave and she could come back anytime. But if she stayed then her mother would worry terribly. Even though her mother hurt her constantly, for some reason she just couldn’t do that. Callie was a caring person, even if the other hurt her.

When he looked into her eyes she felt the way he did about bringing the subject up again. Even though they were sad, she could feel a warmth and kindness that she wished her mother still possessed. A hand reached up and gently touched his face as if to make sure he was really there and that this wasn’t an ongoing dream; like a conflict of eternal thoughts continually playing within her mind.

The composure of remaining calm was starting to wear down as her eyes began to well up with tears. She retracted her hand from his face and curled up on the couch. This was a little too much for her.

”I think….I think I need to go home Charlie.” It took a moment to get the words out as she was hesitant at first.

"Callie, Right now? Uhm, you're shirt's not clean yet.....Don't cry." he said softly when she balled up on the couch. "Don't cry." He patted her back and try to soothe her.

True her shirt wasn’t clean. That would raise all sorts of questions if she went home with a different shirt. He patted her on the back which was semi comforting. Watery eyes looked over at him.

”I’m sorry.” She took an arm and wiped it against her face to get rid of the tears that were starting to roll down it. The salty tears were stinging her healing cut on her cheek.

”I’m just so confused. I don’t know what to do.” Once again eyes lost contact with Charlie’s and looked towards the floor.

"You could tell me then, maybe I could help you figure something out and not be confused, sometimes it's easier to figure things out with a friend. " he told her. " I need to put the clothes in the dryer. I'll be right back." he assured her, hoping she'd be able to collect herself.

Charles do you see what you've gone and done? he asked Charli in his mind.

George, sometimes it's just as bad to stand by and do nothing it is to do something bad.Charlie answered the ghost.

She thought about what he said, but something still told her that she needed to keep quiet. The secret had been so easily to carry for so many decades, but for some reason her ability to hold it within and still keep a smile was wearing thin. He left to go put everything in the dryer. Must have been nice to have machines do all the work. At home, her old fashion mother, still had her wash things by hand and dry them on a clothesline.

Surprisingly all the crying had made her tired and before Charlie came back she had leaned her head against the couch and fell asleep from exhaustion; not physical but mental exhaustion.

PWEASE GEORGE CAN WE KEEP HER? Charlie asked, he sounded a lot like Roger Rabbit in George's head.

Certainly not!! She's a person not a pet Charles. George answered.

I know, You can't have nearly so much fun with a pet, besides she's sad and We could make her happy. Charlie says.

Then he's gone, moving through currents in the dream planes to go talk to Callie in her dreams.....