My strappy, heeled shoes slipped on the icy sidewalk and I reached out for Tony to steady me. The shoes were a pain in the ass, and nearly hazardous in the snow, but they were gorgeous so I powered through.

"You and those fucking shoes." Tony teased me as I latched onto his arm in an effort to regain my balance.

"You like them, shut up."

He eyed me up and down, "They are mighty sexy. But damn it babe, you're going to break your ass." He said before subsequently smacking the body part in question.

I shooed his hand away and tried my hardest to dig my heel into his toes, but nearly slipped again.

"You were the one who insisted on getting up early to go check out this cool new coffee place off campus." I used air quotes around the word cool, to emphasize how little I cared about the never ending hipster coffee joints that appeared and disappeared like whack-a-moles.

"It will be cool, as long as you make it there alive."

I rolled my eyes, "You're not funny."

But he probably had a point, my recent dedication to clothing was a bit extreme. But I clung to each shred of fabric like a security blanket. That's what it had turned into since the end of the summer.

After what had happened, I ended up moving in with my mom. When I told dad that the house freaked me out because of the murders, he revealed that he'd planned on moving closer to the city after I left (I later found out it was due to a special lady friend who just so happened to live out there). So we packed up and found a renter who would be willing to take care of the animals.

Peter had kept his word, no one bothered us or the new tenants.

The police investigation of the Lottes' murders died down kind of fast due to minimal evidence and suspects. I'd told the cops that the boys had been hiding out in our barn and that they were severely traumatized and saying crazy things, just in case the boys tried to tell them about the place in the woods, despite how many times I told them they couldn't tell anybody.

I hated having to do it. I couldn't stand that they'd had to go through something like that and now they're parents murderers could go free, but I couldn't get the police involved.

The guilt still gnawed at me for that, but I already knew I was far from a good person. I wanted to see that bastard pay as much as the next guy, but I trusted that Peter knew what he was doing, even if he was a damn liar. I just wish he'd given me something else to go on besides all the vague mumbo jumbo.

But it was what it was now, just another mystery being swept under the rug. I didn't even know if any of them were even alive now. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past the master or Peter to kill one another, so that's what I assumed happened.

I sat around, locked in my new room, crying over it for a long time. Every night I dreamed about burning alive. The only positive thing about the dreams was that I usually got to see Peter. Even if he did turn into a monster a second later.

It stumped my mother, who was curious why I was so unendingly devastated by the death of my old neighbors.

I'd shrugged off any attempts at communication with the rest of the world until the very end of the summer when I was packing up all the stuff I was going to take with me to college.

And it just struck me that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't change something. I couldn't bear to look at myself anymore; I felt stupid, desperate, selfish, and truly ugly. What had happened just pushed me way past my usual feelings of empty, lonely distaste for myself into something much darker.

It was my fault.

My fault.

My fault.

My fault.

I couldn't get it out of my head.

I hated that I'd trusted him, and I hated that I'd left him. The worst part was, he was the only one I wanted to talk to about it.

But I knew I needed to pull my head out of my own ass and get past it, so I threw most of my clothes into some trash bags.

Taking a deep breath I walked out of my room and knocked on my sister's door.

"Yeah?" Cameron answered. I opened the door slowly. She was sitting at her vanity applying makeup, looking at me in the mirror.

"Cam, I was, um, going to go shopping, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me." It came out very awkward and stilted, but her face lit up and she spun around in her seat.

"What kind of shopping?"

"Clothes and stuff."

She jumped up, obviously enthusiastic about this idea, "It's about time you stopped dressing like gym teacher."

I laughed nervously, "Thanks."

Cameron passed by me through the doorway, makeup still half done, and walked to our mom's room. She opened the door and announced, "Boa and I are going to the mall."

My mom appeared in the doorway in a flash, still hooking in her big dangly earrings, "Really?"

Well, she didn't need to act so surprised.

"Yeah, she said she wants to go shopping."

"And it was her idea?" My mom's eyebrows lifted.

I nodded and she smiled widely.

"Let me grab my purse," she said, disappearing around the corner and returning with her leather handbag, pulling out a wallet, "This should be enough for a few things," she grabbed a sizable wad of cash, handed it to Cam and warned her to share it with me.

"I've got money," I told her.

She laughed, "Rule number one my girl, never turn down cash," and then went to sit on the side of the bed to pull on her wedges, "Just have fun."

"Yay!" Cameron exclaimed, "I need to go put on my makeup."

She ran back to her room and I went to mine to put on my shoes. I was kind of nervous at the idea of being alone with my sister. We've never been terribly close, and I'm completely sure the only reason she's hanging out with me is because she gets some clothes out of it. But I won't complain.

I took the bags down to the car and tossed them into the back. The earthy scent of that night still lingers on the seats, so I roll the windows down and hope it clears the air inside. Cameron skipped out of the house a few minutes later, somehow completely put together.

We climbed into my car and began the journey to the mall. I wasn't terribly familiar with the area so Cam had to direct me most of the way.

"Is there a Goodwill around here somewhere?" I asked.

"Yeah, on the next corner."

I dropped her off out front and drove around back to give my old clothes to the employees. When I was done I drove back around to the front and went inside. I found Cameron browsing the racks.

"I think this would look cute on you," she said pulling out a leather skirt, "You'd look like such a badass."

I laughed and took the skirt, evaluating it closer. It was very sleek, and probably fake even though it looked nice enough, "Sweet."

"You could be so hot if you tried."

"Probably not," I laughed. I wasn't ugly by any means, but I'd never been terribly profound looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, the usual. I'd always thought my clothes fit with the rest of me. Simple, comfortable, nothing much to look at. But I didn't want to be that person anymore, "But I'll give it a shot."

We meandered through the aisles quietly at first, but eventually small conversations began popping up until we were just chatting.

"You see what my theory is," she started, pulling a dress down to admire, "If you go to a place like this first, you can get pretty decent finds before you go and spend the real cash on new stuff. I mean why would you spend money when you don't have to?"

What she said was remarkably close to my own opinions, and I was a little taken aback.

She'd always been pretty high maintenance. Dark hair (inexplicably quite a bit darker than mine) always either curled or straightened, room done up the way you see in pictures online, and she always did trendy things like juice cleanses.

"Honestly, I didn't really pin you as someone who would think that way."

"That's the idea." She winked at me and continued to sift through the clothes.

We both came out of the store with pretty hefty loads. I felt like I'd gone a little crazy with it, probably due to the fact that I had no other clothes so my brain used that as an excuse to get whatever my heart desired.

It was fun, which surprised me. It was strange to enjoy shopping so much, not to mention enjoying the company of my sister.

We drove to the mall next, my sister's wheelhouse as she likes to put it. She mostly dictated which stores we went into, which was fine by me. I was just entertained to be there, to actually have a real distraction.

But as I was looking through a sale rack I happened upon an old memory. The pink mauve dress, from what felt like a lifetime ago.

I could still see him standing there, mannequin in his arms, smiling at me through the glass. I bought the dress right there.

I knew I was trying to get rid of things that reminded me of my past. But I got the dress for one pitiful and embarrassing reason. He thought it would have looked good on me.

After our arms were filled to the brim with shopping bags our next destination was a makeup store.

"You need to get your makeup done," Cam demanded as she approached the counter.

I was tempted to fight her on it, but I let it happen. Maybe some newly found makeup skills would be the next step in my quest to not be myself anymore.

A girl with bright blonde hair and a mole under her eye sat me down in a chair next to a big layout of makeup and began talking me through all the stuff she was using.

Cam would wander away and come back, giving me encouraging looks as the girl applied everything.

To my surprise, I knew a lot about what she easy talking about. I wasn't immune to watching makeup tutorials online, just too lazy to actively try them on myself.

When it was finally time to see myself my heart skipped a bit. I looked a bit more rested and alive, but the part I liked best was that I looked different. And it was such a relief.

We bought a few things but Cam insisted we could find pretty decent stuff at a drugstore for cheaper.

Later that night when we got home, bags slung over our arms and my face etched with a newly found liveliness, my mother greeted us happily.

"Did you girls have fun?"

"Yeah it was great, look how good Bo looks," Cam said before taking all her stuff up to her room.

My mom's eyes turn to me, evaluating my new look, "You look so much more..." she paused like she was trying to choose her words carefully, "happy."

"Thanks."

"You feel better?"

I thought for a second before I realized it didn't have to lie, "Yeah."

It was also one of the first times since, I could remember at least, that she'd asked me a question about myself.

I went upstairs to get ready for bed. In the bathroom, I couldn't help but think I looked silly wearing so much makeup with my sweatpants and tee shirt from when I won Smokin' Joe's 32 Hot Wing Challenge (the only shirt I'd refused to part with).

But it was sad to see the new face go, even though I knew I could draw it back on tomorrow.

But by January, my makeup skills are near pristine. I've lived with this new girl for so long, and I've enjoyed it. It got me friends and Tony, a normal college life I didn't even know I could have. It was almost like that awkward girl from high school never happened.

I'd nearly forgotten about that old girl as I walked down the icy street towards the less than exciting new coffee joint.

But as we passed an alleyway something caught my eye.

There were a handful of homeless people bundled up in the small space. But amongst an empty spot full of wadded up clothes was a bright pop of color.

Fuzzy purple dice.