Part one of the two-shot that is part of the sequel. Whew. "Shut Up And Let Me Go" is by and belongs to The Tings Tings. You may recognize it from the iPod commercials or whatever they were. Thankies to Darkness-Ninja-Princess for telling me how the first few paragraphs went! :D

Mr. Stranger

The green bench as it sat in the sunlight on the day our story begins, seemed like just a green bench. A green bench with pine green paint beginning to chip. It sat in a rather strange spot for a bench, considering the how the streets were planned out in the city. It sat in the middle of the block. The bench was surrounded by little shops, and on the day in question a cicada was buzzing in the tree that sat next to the bench. A few children mingled about. You see, school let out for summer vacation the next day, and all of the little boys and girl's heart were a flutter.

On this day the bench was occupied by a rather strange man in black. He let a rather large newspaper hide his face, which, upon further observation led young Opal to believe that he might be hiding from someone, as all of the characters in cartoons did this when they were on the run from a villain. Opal stepped lightly against the side walk, large hazel looking up in curiosity. Opal was only seven years old and rather skeptical about graduating second grade.

"Who are you hiding from?" she asked. Her light brown hair was tucked behind her ears and she swung a pink backpack over her shoulders.

The man said nothing; instead he turned the page of newspaper. Opal cocked her head and sat down on the green bench.

"My name's Opal, what's yours?" she giggled, holding out a delicate and sticky hand. The man seemed to relax a little. He let down the newspaper, to reveal a rather gruesome scar on his face. Opal gasped. "Never mind, my mummy said not to talk to strangers," she faced the street, her back rigid.

"Your mother is right," the man stated clearly. Opal looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Opal said nothing. "My name is Mihael," the man held out a hand.

Opal took it and shook it a little; though in the end it made no effect as the man was rather strong. "I'm waiting for my mommy. I'm graduating second grade tomorrow," she tested, but her voice was proud.

"Congratulations, Opal," the man, Mihael, said.

"Thank you. Umm… sir? Why do you have that big ugly scar?" Opal's innocent bluntness made the man rigid this time.

"I got in an accident, a long time ago," the man's eyes seemed far off.

"Oh, okay," Opal smiled happily. Mihael was confused. Why wasn't this girl badgering him about his scar? She didn't seem to give it a second look. "When can I see you around again?"

"I'll be around. I wouldn't mind being your friend,"

"Thank you mister!"

"Come one Opal," the two were joined by a skinny and pale woman with long blonde hair was faded blue eyes. A smile was pasted on her face. "It's time to come home!" she laughed, hugging her daughter.

"Mommy, I want you to meet my new friend," Opal pointed to the bench, where Mihael was visible to her. He seemed caught up in her mother.

Scarlett stared at the green bench for a long time. "Honey," she finally said, "there's nobody there," she looked puzzled.

"What are you talking about, mommy. He's right there," she pointed to the bench again. Scarlett said nothing and grabbed her daughter, and hurried her into the car.

--

Opal sat, alone, on the swing set in her backyard. Mihael had promised that he'd come back, and Opal didn't have anyone to play with. The swing next to her was empty, swaying slightly in the breeze.

"Can I join you?" Opal turned around to face Mihael. Her eyes lit up.

"Of course!" she giggled as Mihael sat on the swing. An awkward silence fell over the two. "Why can't mummy see you?" Opal finally asked, cocking her head. An afternoon sunlight made her white face look tan.

"Because… she doesn't know how to look…" Mihael sighed. His teal eyes clouded with emotion.

"Don't be sad Mihael! I know how to look," Opal grinned.

"Don't call me Mihael. Call me Mister Stranger," Mihael told her. Opal nodded, like she did something wrong.

"Alright. Do the other kids see you?" Opal asked. For once, she had something away from her mother or Ella.

"If they know how to look," Mr. Stranger hissed. He didn't seem very happy to hear about other children.

"Can I ask you something?" Opal kicked the dirt in the ground.

"Haven't you asked enough?" Mr. Stranger said flatly.

Opal didn't get it. "Why do you like my mom? You were staring at her before, like you knew her,"

"Well, Opal, your mother is very pretty…" Mr. Stranger trailed off. He had intended that to be more like a pause, but it didn't work.

"Come on, Opal, dinner's ready!" Opal looked at the open door, where Scarlett stood.

"I have to go eat. Do you want to stay for dinner?" Opal asked happily. It was spaghetti night. Mr. Stranger shrugged, but followed the little girl into the old house.

--

"Mommy! Be nice, we have a guest!" Opal laughed as she took a rather large bite of spaghetti.

Scarlett looked skeptically at the empty chair. Opal had insisted that they put a plate there, because her friend, 'Mr. Stranger', was coming to dinner. Scarlett realized that the man Opal was talking to after school was probably just her imaginary friend. But were seven year old girls supposed to have friends that didn't exist?

"I'm sorry, dear. How rude of me. Mr. Stranger, could you please pass the salad?" The blonde writer asked the non-existent person. She wished Ella were here, but Ella was on a trip around the world with her mother. The salad bowl didn't move. Opal laughed.

Through her eyes she could see Mihael perfectly clear, and rather forlorn, teal eyes staring at the salad bowl, as if his gaze could move it alone. During the entire dinner, Mr. Stranger hadn't touched the food on his plate, let alone try to talk to Opal. All he had done was stare at Scarlett. Whenever it seemed like she was looking at him, he couldn't help but feel like he was alive. And that she could see him.

"Its okay, Mr. Stranger, I wouldn't pass the salad bowl to me, either," Scarlett nodded, unsure of whether she was trying to discourage Opal's newfound friend, or to encourage. Unbeknownst to Scarlett, she was looking right into his eyes. She reached over and grabbed the salad bowl, pretending not to bump into Mr. Stranger.

"So, how's school going?" Scarlett asked her daughter, eating a fork full of dressing sprinkled greens.

"All right," Opal muttered, chopping up her spaghetti noodles with her fork, in a sort of hacking fashion. Scarlett stared at her brown-haired hazel-eyed daughter with soft eyes.

"You happy to be graduating second grade?" she asked.

Opal turned stone cold. "Yeah, it's alright." It was no secret she wasn't looking forward to spending an entire summer alone with her mother. All Scarlett would do was sit on the computer and type, then freak out about the time, order pizza and send Opal off to bed.

Scarlett smiled and twirled her spaghetti. It was beginning to get dark outside, and since it was summer that meant it was getting late. Scarlett put down her fork and looked at how much food Opal had eaten. Her entire plate was empty, but her salad was untouched.

"Take a couple bites of your salad, then go get ready for bed, I'll be up to tuck you in, soon,"

"But –" Opal whined. It was only 8:30.

"No buts. You can stay up later during summer vacation, but tonight's a school night. I don't care if you have a half day tomorrow, you still get up at the same time," Scarlett went over a list of all the arguments Opal could come up with. That was all of them.

Opal grunted and shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth.

--

Scarlett lay on the couch in her pajamas. There was one lamp on, like a beacon in the dark room, its orangeish light casting a glow in the area around it. The radio was on; its sleek black body was thrown on coffee table messily. A station Scarlett wasn't familiar with played while she flipped through the channels. It was only 10:00, but since she was alone in the house (except for Opal, who slept soundly up stairs), it seemed like much later.

Or so she thought. Mihael sat behind her, sitting on the back of the couch. He stared at the television, not even trying to get Scarlett's attention. She couldn't see him anyway; she could never see the skinny blonde man in black that stood over her and her family like a guardian angel.

A rather upbeat and poppy tune began to play on the radio. Scarlett sat up. She knew this song. And no one was around. And she did need a little pick me up, considering her daughters newfound friend who she couldn't see. Another instrument began to play, enhancing the beat. It was a rather old song. Scarlett smiled as she beat her head steadily along with the rhythm. A voice began to sing, and Scarlett followed her lead.

"Shut up and let me go, this hurts I tell you so. For the last time you will kiss my lips, now shut up and let me go. Your jeans were once so clean, I bet you changed your wardrobe since we met!" she laughed, standing, following the rhythm of the song with her body. Her unseen angel stared at her.

"Now oh so easily, you're over me. Gone is love, it's you that ought to be holding me, I'm not containable! This turns up, it's not sustainable!" Scarlett jumped from the couch to a near by chair, laughing. This was the most fun she'd had since… well; it had been a long time. Mihael began to tap his foot to the beat as well. He smiled, and finally, the smile turned into a laugh as she finished, with a graceful (or not so) fall from the coffee table.

"I'm okay!" She threw her hands in the air, and reached for the couch. Her hand passed through his foot. She drew it back quickly, and looked over the flesh. Her hand had frozen up for a second. She pulled herself up, and moved both her hands and her feet. She wiggled her toes, and made sure everything was in order. Mihael jumped from his position, out of her way. Obviously, she felt some kind of sensation when she passed through his ghostly body.

She ran her hands through her hair. It was too late for her. Well, at least, now it was. She stood up and turned off the radio. Time for bed.

--

Scarlett slid under the covers, tired, and waiting for her meds to kick in. That would send her right to sleep. She reached over to her bedside table and grabbed two gloves that lay safe and warm in the little drawer. The gloves were worn and black, and had a comforting spell on the blonde writer. They were his. She slipped them on, and let pillow her head with them.

Of course, they didn't smell like he did, anymore. She remembered when she first found them. Boy was she a wreck! And when she slipped them on, she felt so much closer to Mello. She would brush them close to her face, and let his scent lull her to sleep. He smelled like chocolate (obviously), cigarettes (from hanging around with our favorite chain-smoking gamer) and another, rather unique fragrance. It may have been some kind of detergent (if he washed his clothes) or maybe some type of shampoo, or something (but who would want to take the time to take a shower in Matt's apartment?). Whatever it was, it made her happy.

And in no time she fell asleep, with (guess who?) Mihael sitting next to her on the bed. Did she really miss him that much? He wanted to caress her cheek, and tell her that everything was okay. But he couldn't. Because she couldn't see him. And he couldn't touch her.

--

"Which one's yours?" a woman in a white sundress asked. Second, third and first graders played on the playground after their 'graduation'. If you wanted to be technical, school was over, and summer had begun, but many parents let their children play and say good bye to friends for the summer.

Along the parking lot, a group of women whose children were all in the same grade chattered. Scarlett recognized some of them. A few were neighbors, others she had seen around school. No matter what, all were rather preppy. It was a long stretch that their hair was its natural color, and their clothes were expensive. It was no secret that their husbands worked all day, while they sat by the pool and ate bonbons. Our blond writer didn't think highly of them, but she didn't have many friends, so why not try to converse?

"Hello, ladies!" Scarlett smiled. All four of the women turned to look at her with skeptical eyes. Scarlett's smile faded, and she realized how out of place she looked. Messy blonde hair back in a messy braid. And old blue-shirt with bleach stains, blue jeans with rips in them (that were not store made) and old rubber sole flip-flops.

"Why, hello, Scarlett, is it?" One with vibrant red hair and too much make up for her own good crooned.

"Yes, it is. And you are?" She wouldn't be discouraged that easily.

The red haired one smiled. "I'm Laura,"

A short haired brunette with a rather pointy nose smirked. "I'm Amy,"

A blonde one with a pink outfit and vacant eyes giggled. "I'm Julie!"

The last, the one in the white sundress eyed Scarlett. She had long brunette hair that fell gracefully to her sides, and the prettiest of the four over all. "I'm Miranda," she offered a hand, a challenging look in her eye.

"It's very nice to meet you all," Scarlett avoided Miranda's hand. Scarlett was joined by a ghostly figure in black, who had been forced to play with a bunch of little kids who could see him as well. He sighed.

"So, what is it again that you do?" Miranda smirked. The other girls mingled and pointed happily to the group of second graders.

"I'm in between books right now, so I'm writing. You see, I'm a writer. Silent Roses? Fallen Sanity? Ebony Night? Snowflakes?" she tested.

Miranda nodded. "I heard that you were working at the school cafeteria for a little while," she hissed.

"Of course. I wanted to pick up some extra money, but still help out with the school. I also kind of wanted to see how it'd be in 'Lunch Lady Land'," Scarlett laughed, but gave up on the joke. Miranda slowly nodded her head, judging eyes studying her face.

"Hmm. So which child is yours?" Miranda surveyed the crowd of children.

"Her name is Opal. She's the one in the center," Scarlett smiled. She hadn't noticed how popular her daughter was. Opal's eyes were lit up by the praise of her friends and classmates. They laughed and played.

"Mine's the one on the… side…" Miranda trailed off. Her son, Alex, looked much like his mother in everyway. He was pale and sickly, and stayed to the side of the group, with undeserved pride.

"Oh. Well he looks like a very nice kid," Scarlett lied. Alex looked more unpleasant than… he just looked very unpleasant.

"You know what's funny? I have never seen a father around your house," Miranda poked at an open sore. She had to keep herself from not smiling.

"Oh. Well, she doesn't have one." Scarlett muttered. Mr. Stranger tuned in.

"Oh! Really? She seems so nice. You know, my husband always said that a child couldn't be raised by just one parent alone." Miranda hissed. She seemed flustered, yet triumphant.

"Well, your husband is obviously wrong, because Opal is a very lovely little girl," Scarlett snapped. Mr. Stranger nodded behind her.

Miranda nodded, her eyes avoiding Scarlett's. "You seem very young. What? Did you get knocked up in high school? Didn't your parents warn you about that?" Miranda smiled, wide. Mihael winced.

Scarlett turned her head toward Miranda, her back rigid. "Okay, bitch. You asked for it," she hissed. Miranda cocked her head, not hearing Scarlett. The blonde grabbed the brunette, pulling her over to the side of the brick school, and pushing her up against the side of the building. Miranda gasped.

"Number one. I am very proud of my jobs, and I was not in the least surprised that you didn't read my books, because you obviously have the IQ of a pea. Number two, Opal is a very nice little girl, and she's adopted! I never got knocked up, and if I did, my parents couldn't' tell me that it was a bad idea because I'm an orphan! I grew up in the UK, you slut! Number three, Opal doesn't need a father to grow up well. She might've had once, but sorry, he died. Kira killed him, and he burned alive!" the blonde writer yelled, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She let go of Miranda and began to walk away.

Miranda gasped and began to wail. Obviously, no one had treated her like that before

"By the way, you whore! Something that'll really set you off! I have a psychosis disorder closely related to schizophrenia!" Scarlett yelled, flipping the brunette in white off. Opal wandered over to her.

"Mommy, who are you yelling at?" she asked, on the verge of tears.

Scarlett sighed. "No one, honey, come on, let's go home." She took her daughters hand and they both walked to the car.

--

"Mommy?! Why are we going home, I wanted to play with my friends!" Opal pouted in the backseat of the car. Mihael sat next to her, and she held his hand as she whined. He didn't look very happy either. Scarlett pulled in the driveway.

"Honey, has anyone ever asked you why you don't have a daddy?" our blonde writer spoke up. She hid it from her daughter, but tears streamed down her face.

"Not really. Where is my daddy?" she wondered. The thought had crossed her mind before, but she was too premature to really grasp onto the idea. Mihael held her hand tighter.

"You… you don't really have a daddy. Honey, I don't know if you're ready for this, but I might as well take a shot. Your daddy died a long time ago," she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

Opal nodded. "Okay, that's nice to know. Besides, if I could pick a daddy, I'd pick Mr. Stranger." Hazel eyes looked up at Mihael's badly scarred face. Scarlett looked back at her child. Opal really seemed to think Mihael was real. She sighed. 'Mr. Stranger' was beginning to unnerve her.