Crossdressing Charlie: Episode 13 - Hide And Seek free porn video

CROSSDRESSING CHARLIE Episode 13 HIDE AND SEEK TWO YEARS AGO... Dave watched the raindrops roll down the windowpane and morph into one another before they dripped away. Outside, it was pelting down so hard that it looked like the rain was coming up from beneath. He watched people scurry down the street with umbrellas, newspapers, and briefcases over their heads to protect their precious haircuts. It was dreadful weather. However, he was safely inside a nice warm caf? with a cup of tea between his two hands. The sounds of plates and cutlery clinking amongst the mumbling and talking of people were a million miles away from Dave's attention. He looked like he had been waiting by the window for some time for there was a glint of impatience in his eyes. He kept looking at his watch, cursing each time he saw how much time had gone by. Suddenly, the door chimed and he looked up in hope but his exhilaration vanished when it was not his girlfriend. "Stood up by a girl. How embarrassing," he muttered angrily, fiddling with an unused fork. He started to tap it gently against the edge of his empty bread plate as his eyes trailed back outside the window. It was still raining. Heavily. Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! The ringing of the fork tapping the plate seemed unnaturally louder. It seemed to be twisted, mutated, and echoed in Dave's head louder than it normally would. Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! "Where are you?" he growled monstrously. Suddenly, he snapped out of his reverie and looked around to see that everybody in the caf? was near silent as they all stared upon him with confused expressions. Some whispered into ears whereas others returned to socialising when he woke up from his strange trance. Dave blinked, unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on his mind. Again. He looked down at his plate to see that he had split it in two. "How did that happen?" he whispered. Confused, he felt the urge to get up, leave the caf?, and never return. He felt mortified and bewildered by his lack of control. "What just -" Suddenly the door chimed and a girl stepped inside from the intense weather. There she was, standing by the door soaked to the skin and looking just as puzzled as the rest of the caf?. Julie stood there with her long red hair, darkened by the rain hanging over her shoulders, her piercing green eyes brighter than ever, her freckles more noticeable, and her outfit sagged with water. Oh how Dave was glad to see her at last. He suddenly forgot about the incident a few moments ago as everything seemed to be normal again. He got up and hugged her with snug comfort but he quickly broke away. He felt he had just embraced cold, dead body and not his precious Julie. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. "Are you okay?" "I-I'm - I'm fine -," she said, breaking eye contact and looking at the broken plate. "Shall we sit?" Dave smiled and helped her take off her coat as she sat down. She didn't want him to be so benevolent. It was unnecessary. He quickly ran to his seat, excited like a puppy dog greeting his homecoming mistress. Julie looked uncomfortable, awkward, and uneasy as Dave poured her a cup of tea from the pot. "Where were you?" he asked, looking up at her as he filled the cup. "I was worried. You weren't picking up your phone." "Oh - did I not - sorry I didn't hear it in the rain," said Julie, looking like she wanted to say something important but didn't quite know how. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," she said, not touching her cup. Dave knew something was wrong. His girlfriend was not acting the same. She seemed tense and refused to look at him in the eye. He just wanted to stare into those beautiful emerald gems as he always did but she would not allow it. She was looking at him but not in the eye. "Dave I have an ulterior motive in inviting you to come here today," said Julie, tensing up another notch. She clearly wanted to say something but Dave would not have it. A small part of him knew what the "date" was all about but he did not want to face reality. "What's that?" he asked, before taking a swig of his tea. "What is what?" said Julie, annoyed that she was cut off. "Ultra motivation or whatever," he said, starting to grin boldly. Julie bit her lower lip and looked out the window. She felt incredibly stressed. "I didn't ask you to come here to drink tea, eat cakes and be all romantic like we usually do. I've come here to tell you something." She knew she was making things worse by stalling. She did not want to say it. She wanted Dave to figure it out for himself like a normal person but his complicated mind would not allow it. He didn't say anything. He just continued to occupy himself by taking more sips of tea whilst trying to look casual yet his mind was clearly troubled. "You know how things have been with us recently. Don't deny it. It hasn't been exactly smooth and we both know it would eventually come to this," said Julie, trying her best to sound sympathetic. Dave said nothing. He was not having it. He would not hear it. "I'm breaking up with you, Dave," said Julie, putting it brutally straight forward. "We can't go on like this. We're only teenagers, not a married couple." It was as if Julie's fateful confession did not reach Dave's mind at all. He had completely blanked it out as though everything was merry and cheerful. "More tea?" he said, smiling as he picked up the pot. "Did you not hear me?" asked Julie. "Are you even listening? We're finished!" she said more harshly. "I'm going to have some more anyway," Dave said, pouring more tea into his cup. Julie slid her chair back a little as her eye fixed on Dave. She looked incredibly disturbed by her now ex-boyfriends behaviour. "What is wrong with you?" she asked coldly. "There's nothing wrong with a little more!" said Dave, all chipper and nice as he toasted his mug playfully. Julie was dumbfounded. She had said what she wanted and now she was lost for words. She just stood up and put on her coat as Dave carried on as if everything was fine and dandy. "You're a lunatic," she said, wrapping her rain coat around her bodice before storming out of the caf?. She strutted down the street as rain poured down over her head. Dave continued to sit by the window in the caf?, sipping on tea before he screamed, "JULIE!" followed by a sprint out the door. He nearly knocked over an old woman as he ran out onto the sidewalk. He shouted after Julie as she hailed down a taxi. He ran after her. Before he could touch her, she spun around to face him. "Just please - go away - you're making this harder for both of us!" she said, sounding distressed. "Please - don't do this - tell me what's wrong - tell me what's happened - what can I do to help?" said Dave, desperately pouring his heart out. "There's nothing wrong with me, Dave! IT'S YOU!" shouted Julie, her eyes beginning to well. "Don't pretend you don't know why I've broken up with you!" "Is this because of that Charlie Smith guy?" asked Dave heatedly. "Are you leaving me for him?" Julie brushed him off as she turned and opened the cab door. He grabbed her arm, "Julie, are you leaving me for him?" he asked seriously. "There's more to it than that, Dave! You're just not the guy I thought you were. You expect things to be the same all the time!" she bellowed passionately. "You're - you're just insane! I feel trapped when I'm with you. I can't even talk to other guys let alone my friends without you freaking out and accusing me of cheating!" "So you are leaving me for Charlie then?" roared Dave. Julie pulled her arm away, shaking her head with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "You're just - so unbelievable -," she said trying to get inside the taxi but Dave pulled her back yet again. "Are you getting in or what's the story?!" snapped the driver fiercely. "I'll change -," Dave said seriously. "I'll stop be controlling and everything will be fine, I promise!" Julie leaned in very close to dave's face. For a brief moment he thought he was about to be kissed. Instead she said, "People like you never change," she said sharply, keeping a straight face and piercing eyes. "You will be the same to every other girl after me and I feel sorry for them." He was left stunned on the sidewalk, gathering rain in his clothes as he watched his beloved Julie get into the taxi. "Westbrook, please," she said to the driver before dropping a piece of paper out the window. It was a photograph of her kissing Dave as she looked into the camera lens. The rain did not stop all day long. It continued to pelt against Dave's bedroom window as he sat his desk, hunched over with his face buried in his hands. He was trembling ever so slightly. The room was gloomy and lifeless. An aluminous light poured over the room from the computer monitor as it turned on. The photograph, which Julie had carelessly thrown out the taxi window lay up against the screen. Dave peered out from behind his shaky hands and looked at the photo. His eyes were red raw from crying and his face was ghostly pale. The sight of the photograph made him feel a pain beyond comprehension as he hid behind his hands yet again. He snivelled as tears flooded down his cheeks, scalding his cold cheeks like acid. He kept sobbing, "bitch" repeatedly every time the photo was out of sight. He pounded the desk with his fist, angrily wiping away his tears as he looked over to his chest of drawers. His eyes were fixed on a pill calendar. He then turned to the computer screen. A picture from Charlie's Facebook page was opened in a new tab. Dave stared at the profile picture. Charlie looked sickeningly happy as he smiled beside Sean and Joseph. "He stole her from me," he whispered. "He stole her and he's never giving her back." Dave quickly closed the window as his bedroom door creaked open. He immediately opened solitaire and pretended to play. "Who are you talking to, Son?" asked a deep voice from the door. "Nobody Dad, I wasn't saying anything," said Dave, feeling embarrassed. "Okay, well, I'm heading off to work now. I've left dinner in the microwave," said his father. Dave accidently sniffed back a few tears but simply said, "Thanks, Dad." There was a pause. "Did you take your pills?" his father asked, looking over at the chest of drawers. "Of course, Dad, I haven't suddenly forgotten!" said Dave, feeling patronised. "Okay then, I'll be off," said his father, "I'll see you tomorrow, son." He didn't say he loved him before closing the door. Dave sighed and looked over at his pill calendar again. It had not been touched all day. He closed his eyes as he breathed in and out bullishly through his nose. He didn't care. He didn't need those damned pills anymore. They were restricting him from who he really was. For the first time ever, he felt that he was thinking clearly. He reopened the window for Charlie Smith's Facebook profile. He returned to staring at the picture as hate swelled inside him like a deadly explosion about to go off. Dave wanted his new enemy to suffer. So. Very. Badly. *** It is Friday morning, June 15th, three days after the double seventeenth birthday party. Rachel and Mary are preparing to leave for a weekend spa trip courtesy of Kayla's generous birthday gift to her very best friend, making it all the much easier for Charlie to go to Dave's house for the weekend unnoticed. The rattle of the plastic wheels against the front path created a loud, grating sound that made Charlie wince with discomfort. He watched from the front door as his mother lifted her suitcase and neatly pushed it into the trunk of her mini-van, flushed with effort as she turned, looking at her son with her hands on her hips. She looked vaguely worried. "Sorry," said Rachel, brushing by Charlie as she left the house with a suitcase and several bags in tow. Charlie watched his mother and sister pack up the van before finally shutting the boot. He strolled down the front path with his hands in his pockets, barefooted and his shoulders hunched under the cold morning air. He looked exhausted, rugged, and untidy, dressed only in jeans and a t- shirt. "Well, bye and stuff," said Charlie, his chin shaking slightly. "We will see you again on Tuesday, son," said Mary, taking her keys from her purse. "Remember that I have left the pass card on the worktop. There's only a fifty in it but that is more than enough to keep you going," she said, eyeing Charlie as though she did not trust him with money. "Oh and remember to lock to the house if you head out." Charlie simply nodded, trying to extinguish the lectures so his mother would just leave. "Enjoy your weekend anyway," he said, stepping back towards the house. Mary smiled hesitantly and opened the car door. She then stopped and turned her head, "Oh and Charlie -," she called, raising her hand, " - no parties! Just think about the mess I had to clean up after the last night!" "Don't worry about it, Mom," yelled Charlie over the roaring car engine. He watched his mother back out of the driveway onto the road before hearing the familiar jerk of the gear. Rachel, who sat in the passenger seat turned her head and looked at Charlie with a concerned look of anxiety on her face as if she somehow knew that her twin brother was rapidly descending towards danger. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it and simply shook her head with worry. The car then took off down the road. Charlie sighed as he unloaded the great burden of his family's presence off his back. He was finding it increasingly hard to lie in front of them all the time. He went back inside and prepared the items he would need for when Dave arrived. They were two simple tools. He placed them both on the worktop in the kitchen and stood back to look at them. "I must be insane," he said to himself as he looked at the large frying pan and duct tape. "But then again, he deserves it!". He laughed nervously as he fingers began to drum anxiously against his thigh. He left the kitchen and began pacing around the house. Don't screw up! This is your last chance to get rid of Dave finally! Charlie thought. His mind was racing frantically. He did not know what to think. The only feeling he was sure of was fear. Fear of everything going wrong and ending up tighter in Dave's clutches. It has happened before but this time was different. He had found a way out. It was dangerous but it was his last shot. He sat at the dinner table with his eyes fixed on the clock as his fingers drummed rhythmically against the wooden surface. He felt himself becoming more aware of the sounds around him, the clock, the boiler, the distant traffic, the birds, and the neighbours. The only sound he wanted yet dreaded to hear was Dave's car pulling up in the driveway. It was 10:34.a.m. He jumped up off his seat and grabbed the frying pan, walking out into the hall and leaving it by the door. He could feel his knees shaking. "Calm down, calm down," breathed Charlie, taking slow steady breaths. " You can do this, you can do this." He turned and went upstairs for no apparent reason. He could not keep still. He walked up and down the hall, biting his nails with worry. His stomach rumbled, begging for food but his mind disallowed pity. He stopped outside Rachel's bedroom door. There was to a small crack that allowed a peek inside. He pushed open the door, feeling his heart pound passionately as if it strengthened with familiarity. The room had not changed in the slightest since he first tried on the school uniform all those months ago. The place still reeked of girliness and femininity. This is where it all started for Charlie. All of his problems started to come at once since that day. God how he wished he could go back and change time. He walked into the room, letting his hand stroke across the furniture surfaces. He hated it. To him, it was now one the worst places he had ever been to. He sat down on Rachel's bed, taking in the strong smell of perfume and lotions. He closed his eyes tight and breathed in. The song Girls Just Wanna Have Fun echoed at the back of his mind as the image of him jumping up and down on the bed cropped up. He felt embarrassed and stupid when he thought about that day. He felt he had grown up so much since then despite the fact it was not exactly that long ago. It was bizarre. He found it rather humorous to think that the school uniform had cursed him or put a spell on him. He looked over at the wardrobe. The pink high waisted skirt and blazer outfit hung over the door. He stood up and walked over to it. He remembered the thrilling excitement he felt before trying on the skirt but now all he can see is just another outfit. Nothing more. It was just a simple item of apparel. It no longer appealed to him, nor did any of the other clothes in the room. They did not rattle his curiosity. They did not shake the very foundations of his being by the thought of donning them. The closest emotion he felt towards the clothes was repulsion. He hated them as much as he hated the room. He essentially believed that they had ruined his life. He felt he would never try on another piece of female clothing after what Dave put him through. Never again. *Ding! Dong!* Charlie's head immediately swung to the window. His heart jumped up into his throat as his entire body ceased up in terror. He crept over to the window and looked down. He could see the blue Ford Fiesta parked up in the driveway. It was Dave. This is it. He acted quickly by walking slowly out of the room and down the hallway. He could feel something inside his ear, beating like another heart, urging him to be brave. His mouth suddenly dried up as he clenched his lips together. His nails dug into the palms of his sweaty hands. He felt as if he was walking through the trenches, ready to go out onto the battlefield. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down to see Dave's silhouette looming over the floor through the frosted glass. He began to descend the stairs slowly with his hand running smoothly along the barrister. He tried to contain himself. His hand was trembling ever so slightly and the tip of his nose felt very much like an ice cube. *Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!* Each ring of the bell felt like a stab in the chest or the hurt caused by verbal abuse. He crept across the hallway and stood inside the door, picking up the steel frying pan with his shaky hands. Terror started to take over his mind again as Dave began to call out his name. "Come on, Charlie! Open the damn door! You knew I was coming." Dave shouted, his voice muffled yet near. "I told you last night at the party, didn't I?" Charlie started to breath heavily through his nose in order to contain his rising fury. He was like a dragon, ready to strike but his eyes looked like those of a scared child. He tried to keep his face as calm and cold as possible but images and feelings of Dave touching and feeling his body began to return. He gritted his teeth so hard that his mouth could have bled aguish. Dave began thumping on the door aggressively, "I know you're in the house somewhere!" he bellowed. Each thump seemed to amplify by the fist. Charlie felt as if his brain was on fire and his stomach felt like a boiling pot of mounting rage. Then something began to vibrate in his pocket before ringing out loudly. His mobile phone could have woken the dead it was so loud. His hand dived into his pocket to pull out his mobile. He hung up immediately, returning to his fight like stance. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" he mouthed angrily. He could hear the handle of the door turning as he hid deeper around the porch walls. Everything turned to silence and his terrified bravery transformed into courage. The creak of the door made the hairs stand up on his arms and he suddenly felt the presence of Dave in the room. He was like a ghost, quiet, haunting, and possessive. Dave shut the door and walked inside. His footsteps echoed on the hard wooden floor as he strolled slowly into the centre of the hall. He looked around and called out Charlie's name yet again. A surge of adrenaline burst within Charlie as he slowly crept out from behind the porch. He moved stealthily towards Dave, feeling his heart in his throat and his stomach tremble nervously as he held the frying pan up like a sword. He did not even think. He then put all the strength he could muster into his two arms, ready to knock the beast out as he pulled back like a slingshot. The room was getting hotter, hotter, hotter as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He had to tighten his grip as his hands began to sweat. .... Dave's arm swung around and knocked the pan out of his hands, crashing loudly onto the floor. Charlie was caught by storm as Dave rugby tackled him to the ground in less than two seconds. His back smashed against the floor and he roared in pain. Dave's face was scarlet red with rage and his eyes were demonic. "You dirty little bastard!" he roared as he attempted to pin Charlie down. "You think you can creep up on me?!" Stuck in such a vulnerable position, flashbacks of the cinema date began to appear before Charlie's eyes. "Nooo!" he cried, thumping Dave good and hard in the stomach three times before he dismounted, rolling onto his back, winded and moaning painfully. Breathing frantically, Charlie scurried across the floor towards the pan, which was on the other side of the room. His abdomen ached as he practically crawled on the floor towards his weapon. It seemed so far away. It was then that he felt Dave grab him by the scruff of the neck. He pulled Charlie up and pressed him against the wall, knocking down a picture of Rachel and Mary, which shattered as it hit the floor. Dave pushed him so hard against the wall that his feet no longer touched the ground. "You think that you can screw with me, eh?" roared Dave, his voice raspy as he spewed saliva. "I own you! You are mine!" he shrieked. "Yeah," gargled Charlie, barely able to breathe. "L-Let's see how you like being a - a girl!" He then kneed Dave in the testicles as hard as he could. Charlie's feet hit the floor as Dave fell backwards onto the floor, roaring as the stinging pain in his privates accelerated to extreme heights by the second. "You bastard!" he cried. He tried to grab Charlie's ankle as he ran past him but he missed. His face was so red with fury that he looked like he was going to explode. After a few seconds of basking in pain, Dave got up to see that his prey had vanished. He immediately returned to his fighting stance, raising his fists as he moved through the large hallway. His eyes darted to every part of the room. His breathing was shaky and panicked. Charlie had become the predator. Dave moved slowly through the hallway and into the kitchen but he was not there. He went back into the hall, his distress increased by the disturbingly quiet silence. "Come out and fight me like a man, Char - " BANG! Straight up the jaw, the frying pan walloped him. Dave fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, knocked out unconscious. Charlie stood over Dave's lifeless body with his jaw hanging with shock. He dropped the pan to the floor, not blinking for a few moments. His open mouth formed into a smile but it quickly turned serious again as he ran to Dave's side. He felt his pulse and sighed with relief, naively thinking he might have killed him. He sat there for a few moments to catch his breath. He could not believe it. He actually knocked out a person who was almost twice as big as he was! However, it was only the beginning. He jumped to his feet and looked down at the body. He already had a nasty looking bruise forming on his jaw line. Feeling rather satisfied with his fighting skills, he wished somebody had witnessed it but then he quickly thought otherwise. He grabbed Dave's feet and began to pull. He was a guy full of muscle so he rather heavy to lift. He put his back into it, dragged the body down the hall, and stopped outside the basement door, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve before opening the door. Dave's head thumped against each step as he dragged him down the wooden stairs into the dark basement. He pulled a cord and all the lights flickered on. He left the body lying in the middle of the basement for a moment as he ran up to the kitchen to get the duct tape. This is like a dream except it's actually happening! Charlie thought gleefully. He wondered how long Dave would stay unconscious before he woke up. He remembered reading that prolonged unconsciousness can cause brain damage. He refused to think that way. He emptied Dave's pockets by taking his wallet, phone and car keys. To be safe, he worked as fast as he could. He taped Dave's legs together tightly along with his hands behind his back. He also taped his mouth to stop him from being heard. He pushed the unconscious body into the corner of the basement and threw a blanket over him. Feeling like a stealthy killer, Charlie took one last look at the body from the top of the stairs before turning off the light and locking the door. He had to move quickly. He did not want anybody finding Dave locked and tied up in the basement. He threw his backpack over his shoulder, locked the house, and took out the silver key for Dave's house. Charlie held it up eyelevel, feeling as if it was the key to freedom. *** THREE MONTHS AGO... Dave's car came to a fast halt outside Rachel's house. "Please we can work this out!" he said, desperately clinging to straws. "No, no, that time has long passed!" said Rachel, her mannerisms exaggerated and furious. "You know this is all your doing!" roared Dave. "If you just told me you love me then -," "LOOK JUST BECAUSE WE'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR A WHILE DOES NOT MEAN THAT I OWE YOU EVERYTHING!" shrieked Rachel, waving her arms about. Dave thought had just been deafened she had screamed so loud. Her face was red, her eyes were raw, and her makeup was all smudged and messy. Her hair was frazzled and her outfit was no longer neat. She opened the passenger seat door and said in a low threatening tone, "I don't want you to ever talk to me again! You are a sad, horrible pathetic little man and I will never love you!" "Rachel ple -," She got out of the car, slammed the door, and stormed down the front path where Charlie stood. "Rachel what happened?" he asked, looking innocent and concerned. "Buzz off Charlie!" sobbed Rachel. Dave scowled both of them before slamming his foot on the accelerator. He took off down the cul-de-sac at an almighty speed. The back tyres screeched as he sped out onto the main road. He barely checked for oncoming cars. The speedometer hand was not long in moving up to dangerously high speeds, well, as fast as the car could go. The small engine roared as the fiesta zoomed down the main road, passing out cars by the second. He was way over the limit. Tears streamed back Dave's raging red face as his arms stiffened straight like a racecar driver. He roared passionately at the top of his lungs in frustrated pain as the car reached its maximum speed. "ARRRRRRRGH!" he roared hoarsely. "I knew that you would never change," said a cold female voice. "Poor Rachel, I know how she feels. I feel sorry for her." He looked in the passenger seat to see that Julie had suddenly appeared. Frightened and shocked beyond feeling, he swerved the car onto the wrong side of the road where an oncoming truck honked loudly in its potentially destructive path. A second away from death, he completely panicked and veered back onto the right side in between two other cars who honked angrily as he wedged in tight between them. The concrete wall tore off the left wing mirror as the fiesta grated against it, causing a thunderous display of sparks. Completely terrified and shocked, he miraculously straightened his car out and pulled into his estate. He slowly drove up the lane towards his house. His face was a sickly pale. He looked worse than death as he pulled into his driveway. As always, his father's car was absent. He sat in the car with the engine on, staring at the garage door as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. However, he was simply staring into space as the day's events caught up with his twisted mind. To him, everything seemed so perfect that morning. Rachel was so happy, full of life, and in a deeply romantic mood. She loved the mountainous view of the city but the moment he claimed love it all went completely mad. He dreaded the thought of losing Rachel especially after the trauma of being dropped by Julie, his first love. He began to cry yet again but this time tears just flowed down his cheeks whilst his expression remained lifeless. They burned his skin like acid. He could not bear losing her. He would not allow it. It is not possible. Later that evening he sat in his bedroom, lying on the bed as he stared aimlessly into the ceiling. His eyes looked torn, destroyed, and raw. He did not look well at all. He was thinking about Rachel and eventually this led to her twin brother, Charlie. For some reason, he hated him more than ever. He took Julie and now he felt that he was somehow responsible for Rachel's behaviour too. He felt convinced that Charlie was out to get him, to take away every girlfriend he has and destroy them. "You know it the Smith boys fault," hissed a woman's voice in his head. Dave squinted and clenched his hands to the sides of his head like a vice. "No mom! Don't!" he grimaced. "He took your Julie and now he has turned Rachel against you too!" said the voice. "No! Go away, GO AWAY!" shouted Dave. "You're not real!" Later that night, Dave browsed Facebook, staring at Charlie Smith's photos, wondering how someone who looked so harmless could really be a deceitful woman robber. He looked at his face. He thought that he could easily pass for Rachel if he had a wig and a bit of makeup. Then Dave wondered why he thought that. He found himself having mixed feelings towards Charlie. The voice in his head told him to hate whilst another stranger side felt compelled to explore new possibilities of getting Rachel back. He looked through more pictures, feeling hate towards some and attraction towards others. "Make Charlie suffer," he said to himself. "Make him suffer by making him my Rachel." He did not know where the prospect had come from. It had suddenly left his lips as though somebody else was speaking for him. Suddenly, he remembered the day when he called over to Rachel's house and she was not there. He thought he had seen her through her bedroom window jumping on her bed. It looked too much like her. The memory had left his mind up until that point. It was all coming back to him. "Hi Charlie, can I speak to Rachel?" asked Dave. "Oh sorry she's not at home at the moment," said Charlie, nodding his head. "That's odd," he said coolly, "because I could have sworn that I seen her up in her bedroom through the window." "Oh no that wasn't Rachel," said Charlie, laughing, "that was my cousin Clara. She came over to keep me company while my mother and sister were out of town." Then it hit him. There was no such person as a cousin Clara. Charlie was the one who was jumping on Rachel's bed in her clothes. It was him! It had to be him. He was so nervous and secretive that day as he hid behind the front door. He was hiding the school uniform. He is a cross-dresser! It hit Dave like a ton of pleasurable bricks as a devious plan carefully formed in his head. Feelings that are even more complex arose when he started to think of Charlie in female clothing. How he would love to see him humiliated whilst satisfying his needs. The opportunities and benefits of blackmail began to seep into Dave's conscience. "No," said Dave, scoffing of the embarrassingly ridiculous thought. "She has left me. It's time to move on." Oh if only it was that easy for Dave. He started to become obsessed with Charlie from that point onwards. However, the pain of losing Rachel remained. He felt he would succeed in conquering it once he got rid of the person he felt was responsible, Charlie. Dave began to stalk him everywhere from a distance. He watched his every moved up until a certain fateful moment when he saw his prey enter the tennis courts one evening. It was there that his fantasy was confirmed true. The benefits were very much in his favour from that day up until now. *** Even though Charlie knew that Dave's father had left town for four days, he still had a slight fear of walking into their house uninvited. He worried that he could possibly find someone there. These feelings were natural of course. He was breaking and entering into a private property after all. He stood still in the middle of the kitchen and listened carefully for any other sounds besides the washing machine. There were none. Somehow, he knew the house was empty. He just felt it. He left the kitchen and climbed the stairs. He could feel his heart racing as the forced thrill of trespassing overcame him. He could feel his skin beginning to moisten with nervous sweat as he crept down the hallway towards Dave's bedroom. He was not sure if the sweat came because of fear or the fact that he had just ran as fast as he could there. Thoughts of doubt began to swirl around his mind. Had he tied Dave's restraints tight enough? Was there somehow a way that he could escape? Would he harm him after his plan succeeded? He had to keep reminding himself that if he did succeed, Dave would have no proof of his cross- dressing "adventures", yet he knew well that he would have to find something to counter blackmail Dave. Charlie walked into Dave's room, which was much tidier than usual. The dark hardwood aesthetic looked shinier and more polished than ever. The wooden floor was glossier and the rugs around the bed were cleaner. The small study area in the corner was clutter free. The walls no longer had posters of cars, football players, photographs, or drawings. A red beanie bag lay beside the computer desk which was neat and tidy. He noticed that there was a new addition to the room, a small flat screen television resting on a tray beside the bed. The room did not look like a seventeen- year-old boy lived in it anymore. The room could have belonged to a mature adult. For a moment, Charlie thought that Dave and his father might have swapped rooms but he quickly realised that was not the case when he opened a drawer at random to see young clothes. He immediately began to search the room for evidence of his cross-dressing to destroy and clear his name of any relation with his blackmailer. He opened the wardrobe first and rummaged through it, flicking through the clothes hanging from the rails in search of a possible hidden box where Dave kept all of the outfits and photographs. He had to keep them hidden somewhere. He moved the wardrobe slightly to look behind it but all he found were cobwebs and crumbled up pieces of paper. Sighing as he wiped his forehead, Charlie walked over to the chest of drawers and searched through each of them vigorously. His attention was caught by something rather curious in the top drawer where Dave kept his socks and underwear. A pill calendar. Charlie's mouth fell open as he picked up the plastic pill holder. Oval, round, circular and tube shaped pills of different colours were mixed into each day of the week. Shocked, he whispered "Oh my god" as he ran his fingers over the object. It looked as if it was not used in a while. His mind was suddenly filled with questions without answers. His mind was suddenly full of speculation. He desperately wanted to know why Dave needed to take tablets each day as it potentially could explain a lot of his manic behaviour. Unable to keep still, he could not comprehend the thrilling shock he felt tingling down his spine. He quickly took his phone from his pocket and took a picture of the plastic pill calendar. He did not have time to speculate further. He had to keep looking. He sat down at Dave's computer to see if he could find any blackmailing photographs. He searched through file upon file for some time before he managed to come across over a dozen digital photos of him dressed up in girls' clothing. He winced as he looked at a picture of him dressed in the school uniform. It was the first one Dave had taken. In the picture, he looked scared and his mouth was open mid sentence. He could remember the story behind it. Dave had just laid eyes on him dressed up as Rachel for the first time and it gave him an erection. DON'T touch me! If you come near me with that thing I'll knock your fucking teeth out! He felt as if his stomach did a black flip as looked back in time, remembering every sentence, every change in Dave's complicated personality. He clicked delete. The next picture was Dave kissing him on the cheek after the cinema date. He could not stand looking at it for more than a second so he quickly clicked delete. He cringed, swallowed down hurtful emotions, and felt angrily upset as he looked through every photograph. They all brought back painful memories from the time in which it was taken, fear, humiliation, degradation, and hurt. He clicked delete on each one until there was no more. He gave a weary sigh, wishing that he could feel his weight upon his conscience vanishing but he there was nothing. He still felt the same. He continued looking around the room. He searched under the bed, taking out plastic boxes filled with junk. He ransacked each box in search of his cross-dressing evidence but all to no avail. He found nothing. He knew that Dave had to be hiding stuff somewhere. He just knew it. Where was he keeping the outfits Charlie had worn? That was the biggest question. He dug deeper into the depths of the dusty, clutter-filled underbelly of the bed until he found a large white bag. It looked new and did not have speck of dust on it or a mark to its clean white paper. He pulled it out and looked inside, snarling hungrily for evidence. Curiously, inside was a box, a rectangular box. He took it out carefully, placed on the bed, and removed the top. Inside was a pair of false silicone breasts, but not the ones he had worn on the cinema date, but a newer, more realistic pair that looked expensive. "Jeez," Charlie whispered as he touched the unnervingly realistic flesh. He looked back into the bag to find adhesive, fake tan, lashes and a new makeup set. However, what interested him the most was the receipt, which read: 13/6/12 SWEET SENSATIONS COSTUME HOUSE Greenhill's Industrial Estate, Healy Overpass. 36C Silicone Breasts - 159.45 Prep Wipes - 15.00 Breastform Adhesive - 33.95 The first thought that came to Charlie's mind as he read where the receipt came from was Prudence, the gothic shop girl he met that day who sold him feminine attire, the girl who used to be a boy, the girl who made him feel okay to be around whilst dressed up. An even greater thought made him wonder why Dave went to all the trouble of not being seen that day yet according to the receipt he was there himself just two days ago. It did not add up. Where was he getting the money to buy such expenses? Why was he buying them? Either he himself was a closet cross-dresser or he was simply upgrading Charlie's attire. He felt that the latter was more plausible. He placed the box back into the bag and continued looking around the room. The pill calendar continued to pick at his mind. It was annoying him as his mind soaked up all the juicy information. It made him search faster. It was not long until he had looked through every square inch of the room. He had looked so hard that he had to stop to catch up with his breath. He stood in the middle of the bedroom with his hands behind his head, cursing under his breath, "Come on, Dave. Where are you hiding everything?" he muttered angrily. He figured that he had to look elsewhere in the house. He did not know how long it would take. He was beginning to grow impatient as he felt Dave could possibly escape and catch up to him. He had to keep reassuring himself that the prospect was next to impossible. He reminded himself that his blackmailer was trapped and was unable to do anything about it. He walked around the bed towards the door when he heard a faint creak from floorboard on which he had stepped. He stopped, wondering if he could have imagined it. He took a step backwards and he heard the same faint creak right below the rug beside the double bed. He smiled to himself, because not only he thought he had found Dave's stash but also because it was so clich?d that he felt as if he was in a detective movie. He kicked the rug over, kneeled down and tried to remove the board. After a few moments of his fingers slipping due to short nails, he managed to remove one of the floorboards. Inside was roughly one foot deep and a half foot wide. He could see the blue sweater of the school uniform, dressed in plastic coverings to stop it from getting dirty. He removed the board next to it followed by the next one until he got a full view of the secret stash. He could not help but smile as if he was rapidly solving some complicated puzzle. His eyes feasted as his breath became heavy with resolution. He wiped his brow and looked down at the secret stash, hidden beneath the floor that separated the two-story house. His eyes trailed over the folded outfits draped over one another in plastic wrappings. He could see the corset, the false breasts, the padded rear, the hips girdle, the makeup sets, the wig, and the shoes that he was forced to wear over the course of the blackmail. It made him feel strangely sad but he knew he would have to destroy it all along with the pictures, texts, messages and the new items. It felt like such a waste but he had to do it so that Dave could no longer hold anything against him. Charlie cleared out the stash into a black bag. His past self would have almost died if he had seen himself trash the most realistic and expensive breast forms he will ever see. He found photographs, which Dave had taken that day at the tennis court, including various others of Friday night "study" sessions. He only glanced at them. He could not bear looking at any more after the torture of seeing the others on the computer. He threw them into the black bag, hoping that they would never see the light of day again. He then found something rather interesting, a cardboard box of videotapes and DVDs. There was also a small tin box with an etching of a boat on the lid surface. He dropped the bag as his attention focused on the boxes and only them. He looked over his shoulder to see if anybody was there, just in case. He opened the tin box to see a whole lot of paper stuffed inside. He did not blink for a moment as he took out picture at random. He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff readying hid body to jump. His heart was thumping. He could not contain the guilty excitement of finding out secrets of Dave. He turned over the piece of paper to see...Rachel. Something hit him in the heart as he looked at the photograph. She was smiling, as he had never seen her smile before. She looked genuinely happy as her boyfriend, Dave, kissed her on the cheek. They were both dressed in winter clothing. Charlie was confused about his feelings towards the picture so he placed it aside and moved onto the next one. There were more pictures of Rachel and Dave, smiling and doing various activities together during their relationship. It made him feel strangely sad. Dave truly looked liked he loved her but then he had to remind himself of what he turned into, a ruthless blackmailing pervert. He found several notes that Rachel had written to Dave during classes at school. They were cheesy love letters that would make one cringe. He could see someone's red hair from a photograph poking out from the bottom of the pile. His heart stopped and his eyes stopped blinking. He stared at the photograph wondering - could it be - no! He took out the picture, his mouth opening with shock as he looked at Julie and Dave embracing each other. "Oh my god," gasped Charlie, holding up the picture to his eyes. "Julie!" He had no idea that Julie used to be with Dave. It was obviously before he went out with Rachel but still, it came as a huge shock to him. They must have been around fifteen years old in the photograph. They both had their eyes closed as they shared a smiling kiss. The angle was crooked as Dave was holding the camera up himself. Julie's red hair seemed more vibrant than ever and her freckles were more prominent. She looked very pretty as always. Dave looked human, as though he actually had feelings. It was a rather moving portrait of innocent teen romance. The picture and the scene in it bewildered Charlie to the very core of his bones. He wondered who broke up with whom. It was 50/50 seeing as Julie proved to be not all that she seemed. Charlie knew this himself after falling for the femme fatale. The hurtful feelings slowly began to well up in his heart again. He rather hoped that it was the other way around. He hoped that Dave was the one who dumped her but then again she would have learned from the painful experience. Julie had done it. She had broken both Charlie and Dave's hearts, a common pain that they both shared. No! Charlie thought. I cannot think like that. We are not the same! There was more to the photograph than meets the eye. Something was written on the back of the picture that caught his attention. He turned it around and read "I hate Charlie Smith!" scrawled across the back rather crudely in pencil. It looked as if it was written in pain as the nib of the pencil breaking could clearly be seen at the end. Quickly, very quickly it was coming into perspective as he stood up, dropping the photo to the ground as his mouth hung open with astonishment. He placed his hands behind his head as his mind raced a million miles a second. It had come to him like a kick in the teeth. Theories, reasons, and revelations formed in his head. It was all too crazy. It was bizarre. Julie did like Charlie all along, Dave hated him because of it, and when he lost his second girlfriend, Rachel, he blackmailed Charlie because he not only wanted to make him suffer for being with his ex but also to fulfil his obsessive relationship with a lookalike girlfriend. That had to be it! The pills, the erratic personality changes, the wild mood swings, the delusions and the inability to comprehend right from wrong made Charlie believe that there was a source to everything. All of the evidence painted a picture of mental illness. He could not help but wonder if Dave's father really knew who his son was. In spite of everything, he did constantly spend his time away at work. Perhaps Dave was just a broken, neglected child with no concept of interacting with people. He was ill, alone, delusional and knocked down by every person he got close to. *** Kayla walked down the sidewalk of suburbia, dressed casually in a thin black/white striped boat necked sweater, white washed skinny jeans and black converse. Her luscious brunette hair is tied up in a ponytail, bouncing to the movement of her stride. She carried a large black handbag, clenched tightly to her side. She looked rather happy. She turned and opened the gate of Charlie's house, walking confidently right up to the front door when suddenly she turned her head to see something rather odd in the driveway. Dave's car. She squinted to see if it was actually the same car. "Strange?" she said as she moved closer. She looked inside the car. She confirmed that was indeed Dave's but what was it doing there? Rachel had broken up with him ages ago and he was certainly not friends with her Charlie! All of a sudden, she began to think the worst. She swung her head and looked at the house then back at the car. She strutted up to the door and rang the doorbell, crossing her arms and tapping her foot as waited impatiently. Her excitement in seeing Charlie turned to concern. Nobody came to the door. She rang the doorbell again. She kept looking through the frosted glass on the door hoping to see Charlie's silhouette. She started to knock. "Charlie? It's me, Kayla! If you're in there please come to the door!". She turned her ear, hoping that she would hear Charlie say something back but there was nothing but silence. Meanwhile, around the back of the house, the small kitchen window flung open and two burnt hands grabbed the sill. Dave heaved himself up, grunting in pain as the skin of his hands ripped and sizzled under the pressure of his own weight. He fell out of the window, face down onto the concrete patio. He had a fierce look in his eyes that said kill. He pulled himself up off the ground, slamming the window shut. He had to get away quick or the person ringing the doorbell would hear him. *Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!* He started to walk but he fell over again. He looked and felt disorientated. He could hear footsteps approaching from the side of the house. "Shit!" he said lowly, picking himself up from the grass. He started to limp towards the back fence so he could jump over and escape. His genitals ached from the force of Charlie's knee and his head was killing him from the mighty wallop of the frying pan. Kayla walked out onto the backyard, startled at seeing somebody there. "Dave? Is that you?" she called, sounding unsure and a little frightened. He froze like a statue, gritting his teeth, seething with anger towards the one who trapped him. He closed his eyes, fuming deeply through his nose as his head trembled like a boiling teapot. He was trying to keep calm but struggling due to the lack of pills and security. "Dave?" said Kayla a little softer, slowly approaching him as if he were a dangerous beast. Dave knew he would not be responsible for his actions if he felt Kayla's hand touch his shoulder. He had no idea how he would react. He would hurt her so badly that she would never speak of it to anyone about it. He wanted to hurt her but this was not the time. "Dave?" she asked yet again. "Yes, Kayla. It's me," he said, finally turning around, smiling charmingly. "Wh - what are you doing here?" she asked, sounding alarmed yet probing. It took a moment for Dave to concoct an excuse. He just chuckled and said, "Didn't Charlie tell you?". "T- Tell me what?" said Kayla softly, taking a step back. "That he and I are the best of buddies!" Dave said, beaming. "Awh man, I cannot believe he did not tell you!" he laughed, nudging Kayla playfully on the shoulder. "Oh my gosh! What the hell happened to your hands?!" Kayla shrieked, pulling back and pointing at the burnt, scalded hands. Dave looked down. The smile had vanished from his face. He had forgotten to hide them behind his back. "Uh - I had a bit of an accident this morning out in the shed when I was - uh - welding a new part for the old car engine!" he said, reinstating his manically happy grin. "They're bleeding!" squirmed Kayla, her voice turning squeaky as she raised her hands to her mouth. "You should really go to the hospital!" "Uh I was just on my way," Dave grimaced as he tried to repress the pain. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?" asked Kayla, her eyes sparkling with frightened tears. "You cannot possibly be thinking about driving with your hands in that state?" "Kayla, its fine, I better get going now anyway," he said, trying to keep his smile as he walked by her. She turned around and watched him leave. His walking was highly uncoordinated. It was as if he was drunk. Kayla looked completely stupefied by the whole thing. She felt she had to help him even if it was the creep she and Rachel bitched about for months. She took out her phone from her handbag. Instead of calling an ambulance, she rang Rachel. She walked around in circles as she waited for her to pick up the phone. It felt like forever until she eventually picked up. "Is Charlie at home?" Rachel asked urgently. "I came over to the house to check up on him just like you asked but no - no he's not here," said Kayla, placing her fingers on her chin. Rachel's seriousness and anxiety made her feel incredibly worried over what she once presumed to be nothing more than suspicion. "Shit!" cursed Rachel. "I knew we shouldn't have gone on this stupid spa break. I knew we shouldn't have left Charlie alone when he was acting so strange!" "Hey, you told me you liked my present!" said Kayla, sounding hurt and offended. "Oh - I do Kayla - but if the dates on the vouchers weren't during such an awkward time!" Rachel reassured her. "He might have just gone out, Rach? Are you sure that you're not just overreacting?" said Kayla, hoping to get around her. "I mean - you're making me worried now over what is probably nothing." "Trust me Kayla. If you had seen the way he was acting over the past week, you'd be worried too!" said Rachel. "Something happened at the party that made him be this way." "Oh gosh - you don't think he'd do something stupid do you?" said Kayla, her eyes welling up. Rachel did not say anything for a moment. "H-Hello, Rach, are you there?" "Have you called him?" asked Rachel. "Not yet." "Well, call me back as soon as you do!" "But - " Rachel had hung up before Kayla could say another word. Distraught and confused, she immediately scrolled down to Charlie's name in her contacts and pressed call. She walked around the side of the house, biting her lower lip anxiously as she waited for him to pick up. Rachel's suspicious and worried behaviour had made her feel troubled. Meanwhile, at Dave's bedroom, Charlie was sitting on the bed staring at the television as he watched each video and DVD from the stash he had found. None of the tapes had tags on them to signify what was on them. He was watching them because he was extremely interested yet he feared of what he might find. He assumed that they would be porn or something worse but they were actually recordings from Dave's childhood when he mother was around. She was a beautiful, plump looking woman with an air of class to her mannerisms and dress sense. In the videos, she played with the young boy, laughing and chuckling lovingly as they rolled around the grass. Birthday parties, special occasions, and casual recordings were all that there was. Yet a continuous person in all the clips was Dave's mother. He could not understand why he should have a reason to be so secretive about a few video tapes of his mother even if she was dead or just gone away. He obviously missed her wherever she was. "So? Where are your parents?" asked Charlie 'My dad works nights. My mom doesn't live here anymore," said Dave, a sharp glint in his eye. Vrrrr Vrrrr Vrrrr Vrrrr Charlie took out his phone. "Not now, Kayla!" he said angrily. He pressed decline, put the phone back down on the bed, and pressed play on the remote. On screen was a birthday party from the year 1999. "Are you having a good day?" asked Dave's Mom as she held the camera on her precious birthday boy. "The bestest day ever Mom!" said Dave, smiling through his cake covered face. Charlie's phone started to ring yet again. He grabbed it furiously, no longer able to ignore it because it irritated him. "Yes?!" said Charlie, holding the phone to his ear. "Oh my gosh, thank god you picked up!" said Kayla. "Why? Is there something wrong?" Charlie asked, standing up from the bed. "No, no, I just thought there was something wrong with you!" said Kayla, sounding increasingly more relieved. "Where are you?" "Why would there be something wrong with me?" asked Charlie, half- suspecting that Rachel sent Kayla to check on him. "Wait, where are you?!" he asked, hoping that it was not his house. "You tell me first!" said Kayla. "I - uh - ," Charlie stuttered, rubbing his eyes as he tried to pick a plausible place, "I'm just in town. Where are you?" "I'm at your house," said Kayla. Charlie felt like a weight plummeted into his stomach as his entire body froze over like an icy lake. "Dave was here strangely enough. He was acting all weird and creepy. His hands were all burnt and - ugh - it was disgusting. Do you know why he came to the house?" Charlie could not form a sentence for a moment so Kayla continued talking. "He just left about five, maybe ten minutes ago. He left his car behind?" "Kayla, I've got to go -," said Charlie, alarmed and scared as he peered through the curtains to get a clear view of the estate. He could see Dave walking towards the house. Oh god! " - I'll - uh - I'll talk to you later. Bye." "Oh and Cha - " His phone rang out of battery but Charlie did not care. He was about to hang up anyway. He ran to the bed. He swept all of the tapes into the black bag when - click! - he heard the front door open from downstairs. He scurried across the room. He did not know where to go or what to do. He ran into the hall and looked around helplessly. He felt a sharp pain in his chest as panic overcame his judgement. He dashed down the hall with the bag of evidence in tow and went into the spare master bedroom. Charlie could hear the muffled footsteps climbing the stairs. Dave was getting closer, closer, and closer as the thumping of his feet grew louder. His eyes darted to every corner of the master bedroom. He did not know whether he should hide or make a run for it through the window. He scuttled to the sill and looked down. It was excessively high. He would surely break his legs if he tried to jump. He felt powerless. Dave was now walking down the hall. Charlie looked at the wardrobe and immediately rushed to it. Opening the door, he got inside and stayed still, barely allowing himself to breathe. He was completely engulfed in darkness and silence. He closed his eyes as he tried to control his trembling hands. He concentrated on his hearing, listening to every decibel of sound that came within earshot. "Nooo!" Dave roared. It came from the bedroom. He had obviously seen that his secret stash had been raided. "Arrrrrrrrgh!" he cried monstrously. Charlie flinched, trying to stop himself from breaking down as he listened to the violent sounds echo down the hallway. He put his hand over his mouth, shaking as he shut his eyes, terrified beyond feeling. The next thing he could hear was glass smashing against the wall, tearing, kicking of heavy objects, thumping, bashing and outright havoc. Then, there was silence. Dave left his room and ran down the stairs. Charlie tried to build up all of the courage he could muster so he could leave the wardrobe and make a run for it but nothing was coming. He was stunned with terror. He could literally not move a muscle yet he was trembling. He had never experienced such horror in his life because of everything that came before it and the terrible consequences that could follow if found. Images of experiences with Dave began to circulate in his mind once again as he listened to his footsteps rapidly running up the stairs. He felt like he was pulling that last straw when he started to pray. Please, please get me out of here! He thought. He could see Dave enter the room through the slits on the door. He was huffing and puffing like a gruesome bull, ready to attack. His shoulders were hunched and his arms were out in a fighting position. His face was moist with sweat, his eyes were watery with frustration, and his posture reeked of vulnerability. The anger on his face looked forced and broken as if he was trying to hide his fear. He was getting closer to the wardrobe. It was nightmarish. He wanted to prepare himself to jump out of the closet and viciously attack Dave but he could not do so. His nerves were completely shot. He felt as if he was having heart palpations as a sharp pain struck the very breath from his body. He could not breathe. He could feel Dave watching him from the other side of the door as his eyes came into view through the slits. They were filled with lustful malice. "Found you," he said, sounding as if they were simply playing a game. *** The moon shines mysteriously from behind the black clouds as a slight chill enters the summer night breeze. The time is just past midnight, 12:07 to be precise. Most of suburbia is either fast asleep or up watching television. It is a quiet night. Meanwhile, a red car pulls up outside Dave's house beneath a buzzing streetlamp. Inside is Richard, a rather plump but well built middle-aged man. Beside him in the passenger seat is his daughter, Kayla. "Please god, let him know where he is," Richard said, turning the engine off. Kayla did not say a word. Her head was resting on her hand as she stared out her window. Her eyes were teary and her expression was pale. She was distraught. Richard got out of the car, walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. He stood down off the porch and waited. It took a few moments but Dave came to the door and opened it. He was in his dressing robe and looked as if had just been woken up. "Hello, David, sorry to wake you," said Richard. "No, no don't worry about it! Is everything okay?" said Dave, sounding both welcoming and concerned. "Actually no," said Richard. "I'm calling by to ask you if you have heard anything from Charlie Smith today." "Why what has happened?" asked Dave, apprehensively. "Is he okay?" "We do not know that's the problem. He's gone missing," said Richard in a straightforwardly manner. Dave's face fell as he looked away for a moment, "Missing?" he said in disbelief. "I take it that you haven't seen him then?" said Richard, let down and disappointed. "No - I - I uh called by earlier because I needed to see him about something but he wasn't there," said Dave, his eyes alight with worry. "Yes I know, my daughter told me everything," said Richard, nodding. "Well good night and sorry to bother you at such a late hour." Richard turned away but Dave who followed him outside onto the path stopped him. "Have you told Rachel and Mary?" he asked, still sounding anxious. "I mean I'm sure they would like to k - " "Of course we have," said Richard, "They're on their way home as we speak." "If there is anything I can do to help just please let me know, will you?" said Dave. "Of course, but I'm afraid there's nothing anybody can do until we find out where he has gone to," said Richard, clearly wanting to move on. "What about the cops?" said Dave. "Can they not do something?" Richard sighed and looked at Dave, "I am a cop, David and by the looks of this, if Charlie doesn't turn up within the next twelve hours, I'll have to take this down to the station and file a missing persons report," he said wearily. "But please god, let us not hope that will be the case." "I'm sure he'll turn up,'' said Dave. "Good night to you Mr. O'Donnell," said Richard, turning and walking back to his car. Dave stood in the doorway and watched Kayla cry out in despair as her father comforted her. The red car then drove away down the cul-de-sac. "What a lousy cop," he mumbled before turning back into his house. He locked the door and walked through the dark hall and up the stairs where the faint sound of rock music echoed from his bedroom. He walked into his room, humming to the music playing on low volume from his computer as he shut the door behind him. He turned and looked at at where he kept Charlie, draped across a beanie bag almost completely passed out. He was almost unrecognisable. Dave had been transforming him while he in a drug induced state of mind. Every hair on his body was now completely gone, revealing a new layer of clear, silky smooth skin. His eyebrows were thinner and slightly arched. His lips seemed slightly plumper and his nose looked thinner due to the makeup on his face. He was wearing the soft, wavy brunette wig with the long bob and his lashes looked thick and fluttery. The expensive silicone breasts, which he had found earlier, were now superimposed onto his chest by adhesive. There were literally no lines. They looked like they were an actual part of his body. A black satin padded bra with lace trimmings around the edge held them up nice of firmly. He wore a white tank top