Hope, that this time, everything will be well. Hope, that this time, everything will work out. Hope, that this time, will be my last time.

Despair, that I had killed again. Despair, that it was easier each time. Despair that I was beginning to enjoy it.

I opened my eyes and looked around the attic. It looked just like all the other attics I had been to before. Even the red funnel had rolled into the same corner. Well, maybe some of the boxes were arranged a little differently. After all, this world's Daria had been up here for some reason. I wonder what she was doing?

I dismissed that thought and started focusing on moving the boxes over to cover the attic door. It wouldn't do to have someone else discover the portal. I grabbed a couple of notebooks from 'her' box. I would need an excuse if anybody were to ask what I was doing up here. Usually nobody did. Besides, the notebooks sometimes gave good clues as to what kind of childhood 'she' had.

As I descended from the attic, I listened. The house was silent. Helen and Jake were presumably still at work and Quinn was probably out with her friends. Good. This would give me some time to do some reconnaissance around the house.

I peeked into Quinn's room and immediately retreated. I find the pink a little overwhelming on the eyes. I did not see any cheerleading paraphernalia but saw issues of Waif scattered on her bed along with the remains of a makeup party. On the surface at least, it looked like this Quinn was a fashion clubber.

I stopped at Helen and Jake's room next. On the dresser sits a family portrait, taken about 3 years ago. Helen and Jake look happy in the photograph. Quinn was perfection as usual and Daria was well, Daria. Impassive.

I smirk. Just like me.

On Helen's nightstand, I see a pile of neatly stacked folders and legal documents. It looked like this Helen was the workaholic lawyer. I also find this, 'The Survival Guide for Parents of Gifted Kids: How to Understand, Live With, and Stick Up for Your Gifted Child'. A bookmark showed that she had read about a quarter of the book.

Does this mean that, this Helen actually cares?

Jake's nightstand had a worn out copy of 'Outwitting Squirrels: 101 Cunning Stratagems to Reduce Dramatically the Egregious Misappropriation of Seed from Your Birdfeeder by Squirrels'. Digging through his drawers, revealed a family pack of condoms - ribbed for her pleasure (I shudder), lubricant, handcuffs and some Polaroid's. I hurriedly shut the drawer not wishing to investigate further.

It looked like Helen and Jake were very happily married.

I head towards 'her' room. I mean, my room. I always leave that for last. My room looks the same. No forced redecorating here, thank goodness. My bed is in a bit of a mess. Looks like Daria didn't sleep that well, last night. A glint of metal under the bed catches my eye. A shiny quarter. I bend down to pick up the coin and notice a little cardboard box. I pull it out and am surprised to see if filled with scraps of paper with Jane's handwriting. Notes and drawings that had been passed around in class. Rejected, crinkled, artwork sketches that had been rescued and carefully smoothed out. Apparently this Daria was a little sentimental. It was certainly not something I would do. Although it was good to know that Jane and I were friends here.

I wonder if Jane is dating Evan? I try calling Jane. No one picks up. I'll have to try again later. Maybe I'll just wait until tomorrow. I miss Jane.

A book sits on my desk with a note stuck to it.

I am flabbergasted. A Quinn who reads? A Quinn who reads books I recommend? I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. So far, this world looked promising.

I thought back to the first time I had discovered the portal.

I was at home, alone, recovering from chicken pox and bored. Stupid ineffective vaccine. Who would have thought I would have contracted it at this age? On a whim, I decided to investigate the attic. I had already combed through Quinn's room for blackmail material, and thought the attic might contain more.

I didn't really expect to find anything and I was not disappointed. My search revealed boxes of baby clothes, toys, old schoolwork and Christmas decorations. The search was a bust, and to add insult to injury, the dust in the attic was making me itch even more.

I'm not sure what made me look at the far wall. Perhaps, I was checking to see that I didn't miss any interesting boxes. Whatever the reason, it was then that I noticed the attic door. I was intrigued. I could have sworn it wasn't there a minute ago. I tried opening it but it was locked. Well, that wasn't going to stop me.

I went downstairs to retrieve a screwdriver and slather on another coat of calamine lotion. Back at the attic, I proceeded to jimmy the lock. It took a little time as I was not well versed in the arts of lock picking, but eventually I heard it click. I pocketed the screwdriver, turned the handle and pulled.

What the...?

"Quick! Grab her!"

Thump.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Those spots on her face, do you think she is contagious?"

"Looks like chicken pox. We're probably safe. You were vaccinated right?"

I awoke to see Jane waving smelling salts under my nose. I batted her hand away.

"What the hell, Jane? What are you doing here?"

I irritably shook off the hands supporting me up and snapped, "I'm okay now. Let go of me."

Jane shrugged, and said to the person behind me, "Your turn. I explained last time".

I suddenly remembered what I had seen, and with dread I turned around to face ... me. I must have looked a trifle shocked and pale, as Jane reached out to steady me.

"Do not be afraid, we come in peace, to offer you frankincense, myrrh and gold".

I frown at her answer, my fear forgotten. "I hate to break it to you, but I wasn't born in a manger," I retorted.

They smiled and 'Daria' begin to explain about their world and how they came to visit mine. I learnt that they had ripped out an alien portal framework from the back wall of Good Times Chinese restaurant, and were using it to visit alternate universes. I was curious as to how they could have possibly known that it was a portal, but they merely mumbled something about Holidays running amuck and changed the topic.

We compared our worlds, and found that our lives were pretty similar, except for some minor differences, like how I had contracted chicken pox in my world. I learnt too that they were able to exercise some control over the portal, allowing them to specify what world they would be visiting. Jane also added with some amusement that the Daria's always fainted upon encountering their alternate. 'Daria' looked slightly miffed, and I blushed.

It was an entertaining afternoon, and I was sorry to see them go. After they left, I tried opening the door again. Nothing, but drywall. It made me wonder if I was hallucinating. I couldn't wait to tell Jane.

Jane didn't believe me. She thought I was off my rocker and told me to lay off on the happy pills. I hung up my phone, frustrated. Not that I blame her. It's not as if I had any proof with which to show her. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. I've never had that reaction with antihistamines before, but who knows?

I recovered from the chicken pox and went back to school. I soon forgot about the attic door. Life was good. Then Jane met Tom.

Tom was smart, witty and good-looking. Jane fell for him straight away.

I did not like Tom.

I was jealous of Tom. I was terrified that Tom would take Jane away from me. She was spending so much time with him. I was being forgotten. Cast aside. The incident with Evan, should have taught me to control myself better, but I was so blinded by my fears and insecurities that I lashed out at Tom at every opportunity. I even fought with Jane over it, choosing to punish her by avoiding her company, but I really ended up punishing me. I couldn't stand being away from her and we made up. I didn't want to be alone again.

Tom was smooth though. He managed to win me over by reasoning with me, and I eventually began to behave more like a decent human being. I stopped resenting him and began to view him as a friend. I learnt that I actually enjoyed his company. At about the same time, cracks were starting to form within Jane and Tom's relationship. Things weren't going as well and Jane started making accusations about Tom and me. Even Trent told me as much to my face.

"Well, whatever it is, no one said you meant for it to happen. But there's no use playing dumb, right?"

At the time, I brushed it off, telling myself that they were wrong. How could anyone be interested in me? I was the plain Jane here. Besides, Jane's my best friend. I would never do anything to hurt her. It's not my fault if he likes the same things I do. So what, if I did find his features pleasing to the eye? I'm only human, and looking isn't touching.

Perhaps the accusations, planted a seed. I begin to replay in my mind the times Tom and I were together. Did he look at me a touch longer than necessary? Did he really go out of his way to seek my company?

I knew I was starting to delve into dangerous territory. I had begun to fantasize about Tom being with me instead of Jane. I told myself it was just my hormones talking and that it would soon pass. I was no stranger to crushes, I had felt that way about Trent not that long ago. I prided myself on being able to control my emotions better this time around. I was wrong.

I was unpleasantly surprised when I walked in on Tom and Jane kissing. I was embarrassed and more than a little jealous. Did they have to flaunt themselves in front of me? Didn't they have any sense of shame?

I really wasn't in the mood to help Jane dye her hair, but she insisted, insinuating that I had ulterior motives for not wanting to help. I caved with some misgivings. I really didn't have the skill for this and her accusations were starting to hit home a little too closely for my liking. I did the best I could with her hair, but it turned out a disaster. She was mad. Really mad. She thought I had done it on purpose and threw me out of the house. I was dejected.

I tried to get a hold of her later but to no avail. She didn't even show up for school the next day. Desperate, I called Tom the next day and told him what happened. I was hoping he had heard from her. The sound of his voice soothed my frazzled nerves, even though he didn't have good news. Jane had called him the night before, raving about him and me. Tom told me he was getting tired of all of this. He would have gone on, but I interrupted him. I needed to go see Jane and straighten everything out.

I went over to Jane's and managed to convince her that the botched hair job was not deliberate and that I was not after her boyfriend. I wonder now if I was trying to convince myself of that same fact. Truth was, it did secretly please me that her hair had turned out the way it had. Perhaps my subconscious had played a hand in this.

I was mulling over this in my head, when I saw Tom parked outside my home. I wondered what this was all about, but was pleased that he had sought me out. He didn't want to come into the house so I got into his car. He wanted to talk about our situation with Jane.

We were so close together, in the confines of his car. I stared at his lips while he talked, mesmerized and wondered what it would feel like to have it pressed against mine.

His lips looked so inviting. On impulse, I leaned over and kissed him.

It was a mistake.

I guess I was hoping Tom would kiss me back. Instead, Tom pushed me away, and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.

"Daria?! What was that? You and I, we're just friends, okay?"

I couldn't believe how stupid I had been. I buried my face into my hands and started to cry.

"Look, maybe you'd better go into the house," said Tom awkwardly as he gingerly handed me a tissue.

"Please... drive. I can't let anyone see me like this."

"Errmm, okay, where would you like to go?"

"ANYWHERE! JUST DRIVE!" I wailed.

Tom drove.

I was at my wits end. What was I going to do now? Tom was most certainly going to tell Jane. Jane would never forgive me for my betrayal. I wouldn't be able to stand looking at the derision in her eyes. Her contempt and judgment. I would be alone again. And for what? A stolen kiss that wasn't even reciprocated? It was all his fault. If Jane had never met him, none of this would have happened.

We stopped at a park. I was calmer by then and had stopped crying. I was grateful that Tom had kept his silence throughout the ride. It had allowed me time to compose myself.

"I thought this would be a good place to stop. I don't think you'll bump into anyone you know here. You okay now?" asked Tom.

I nodded my head, embarrassed by my outburst and actions earlier.

"You are not going to tell Jane about this, are you?" I asked, my cheeks burning with shame.

"I don't know, Daria. Don't you think she deserves to know? Besides, she'll know something is up. If we don't tell her, she'll just be suspicious and imagine something much worse," said Tom.

"She'll hate me, and you'll come out looking like a prince. You just want to tell her, so all your problems from before would be forgotten. That way, you can have her all to yourself," I accused angrily.

"Now, wait a minute, that's not true. Sure Jane and I have our problems, but that has nothing to do with this. You brought this on yourself. You're the one who kissed me remember? I didn't do anything," retorted Tom.

I didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, I wrenched open the car door and fled towards the nearest hiking trail.

I could hear Tom yelling behind me, "Daria! Come back! It's not safe to be wandering into the woods in your state!"

I heard a car door slam shut and Tom curse. Apparently he had dropped his keys. I ignored him and continued to run deeper into the woods. I wasn't much of a runner, and was already starting to feel winded. It didn't help that the trail I picked had started to wind up a rocky hill. I could hear him trying to catch up with me. Tom was in better shape than me and was starting to narrow the gap.

I stubbornly pushed on, but at a slower pace. The trail was getting narrower and there was a deep ravine to my left. I may have been impulsive and foolhardy but I was not suicidal. I was so engrossed in watching my step that I failed to realize how close he had come.

"Gotcha!" cried Tom in triumph as he grabbed me from behind.

Startled, I swung around and pushed him, breaking his grasp. Too late, I realized I had pushed him out too far. I tried to catch a hold of him, but merely caught air. His terrified cries filled the air, along with the sound of branches snapping, brought to a halt by the dull thud of his body hitting the ground.

~~~~~~~~~

It was late by the time I got back to the house.

"Hey kiddo! Where were you? You missed dinner. There's some leftover meatloaf in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks dad. I was... I was, at the library and forgot the time."

"That's nice. Oh hey, sirens, wonder where they are going?"

I ignored him, and hurried to my room. I was glad to avoid mom and Quinn. They might have noticed my mussed appearance.

I was afraid. It was an accident. Only an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen. I even called 911. They could help him. Maybe. I couldn't tell if he was still alive. I hoped he was. It was only an accident. They'll see reason, right? Would they believe me? Jane is going to hate me even more. What was I going to do? Would I have to go to jail? What would mom and dad think? I won't even be a cousin to Quinn, after this. If only I could turn back time. If only I could escape all of this. If only.

I remembered the attic door.

I snuck up into the attic, pulling up the trapdoor after me. Hopefully that would buy me some time. The attic door was still there as I remembered it. It was a desperate attempt, but I was going to try.

"Please, work. Please bring me to a world like mine, but better. Please, please...," I begged the door. In my head, I could almost see the other attic, with the other Daria about to open the door.

I grasped the handle and pulled.

Thump.

The Daria on the other side had fainted clean away.

I gasped. It worked! I could hardly believe it. What to do? What to do?

Here was my opportunity to escape. I could just let 'her' handle my mess. The Daria I had met before didn't have a life all that different from mine. I could just take over. Jane wouldn't hate me, I wouldn't go to jail and none of this would have happened.

I dragged her body over to my attic, trying to be as quiet as possible. I was beginning to have second thoughts about this, when I heard my mom calling my name.

"Daria! Where are you? I just got this call and..."

I panicked and crossed over to the other world, slamming both doors shut. My heart was pounding and I felt dizzy. I worried about what they would do when they find her. I worried about what she would say. Maybe they'll think she / I had just snapped. Would they try the door? Would they find me? I opened the door a crack; ready to slam it shut, if I saw another attic. I needn't have worried. Nothing, but drywall. I almost collapsed from relief.

"Daria? Did you find it?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

I jumped, turned around and saw a slender young man with pitch-black hair and bright blue eyes. He looked like Jane. Even his clothes looked like Jane's.

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to spook you."

I stared. Lost for words. I needed to say something.

"Um, Jane? I mean, what were we looking for again?" I blurted out in my confusion.

He arched one eyebrow and said, "Maybe I do need to air out my room somewhat. The paint fumes must be getting to you."

I claimed that I wasn't feeling well, and needed to rest. Fleeing the attic, I made it to 'my' room, and locked the door. I was determined to stay there until I could figure out this world. Surely my journal, assuming I had one, would tell me all I needed to know.

I feigned illness for a few days and spent most of my time in my room. I learned from my journal and computer files that I was in a world where Jane Lane was a John Lane. Not quite what I was expecting. To make matters worse, John Lane actually lived in this house, and was romantically involved with Daria. I tried not to stiffen whenever he reached out to hold my hand or to give me a hug, but I'm not sure I was successful. Despite my best efforts, John seemed to sense that something was wrong. He hasn't said anything about it, but he keeps giving me worried looks when he thinks I'm not looking.

Apart from that, this world seemed to be fairly decent. If not for John, I could probably have slipped comfortably into Daria's shoes and not given my old home another thought. Helen, Jake and Quinn are certainly nice enough and close enough to my real family that I considered staying here for the rest of my life. I wasn't interested in John romantically but I figured I could always just 'break-up' with him.

I knew I couldn't stay, however much I flirted with the idea. John was getting increasingly suspicious of me, and becoming too interested in the attic door.

"Sooo, Daria, do you know anything about that door in the attic? I don't remember seeing it when I was up there looking for tinsel for my sculpture a week ago."

I laughed nervously, "That door has always been there. You must just have missed it before, that's all."

"I suppose, but it's kinda hard to miss seeing a door. It's not like it's covered behind boxes or something. The weird thing is that it doesn't even lead anywhere. I opened it and there was just drywall. It didn't look like a hole had been patched up. It looked like someone had just nailed the doorframe to the wall. But why would anyone do that?" asked John.

Why indeed.

I thought it was interesting that the attic door hadn't been there prior to my arrival. I was now sure that the attic door in my world had not existed until 'Daria and Jane' had decided to come visiting. I hypothesized that the portal was a virus like entity, which replicated itself into the other world whenever it was used successfully. I also surmised that a corresponding alternate needed to be on the other side to open the door for it to work. 'Daria and Jane' had said that they had some control over the portal, so perhaps when requested; the portal would attract the alternates to open the door, like a moth to a flame.

Based on my hypotheses, I figured I was safe as long as I did not open the door again. However, I was worried that my Jane would figure it out. Who knew what John's Daria was telling people back home. There was a chance that Jane would remember what I had told her about the world hopping 'Daria and Jane' and put two and two together. I needed to leave before she tried opening the door. I had no doubt that the portal would successfully attract John into opening it when she did.

In for a penny, in for a pound. I came up with a plan. This time there was to be no loose ends. In order to not have anyone follow me into the next world, I would have to extinguish my alternate. I'll just have to make it look like a suicide. Dead men, or in this case dead girls don't talk.

Trying to find time alone to get the supplies I needed proved to be a little difficult. It seemed like John was always hanging around me. I finally picked a fight with him, complaining about him being too clingy and how he was suffocating me. It wasn't that hard to do. I really did feel like he was suffocating me. Thanks to the fight, John decided to spend the weekend with his brother Trent on a road trip to a nearby town. I think Mystik Spiral had a gig there.

As for me, I made a pharmaceutical stop at Dega Street with my 'Montana Cabin Fund'. Apparently, I looked the part, so I didn't have too much trouble acquiring what I needed. Besides, money, makes the world go 'round, the world go 'round, the world go 'round.

Luckily, I didn't have to worry about Quinn hanging around the house. Her social schedule ensured that she was never home during the weekends.

To get Jake and Helen out of the house, I had casually left a magazine with the page turned to, 'The Importance of Date Night for a Happy Marriage', on the dining table. True to form, Helen took the bait, and I was soon alone in the house.

I grabbed my supplies and headed to the attic. Pulling out my pen and notebook, I scribbled my first suicide note, something about me just not fitting in anywhere, and how I was just going to end it. I didn't know how believable it was. This world's Daria really had no reason to commit suicide. Maybe they'll think the alcohol impaired her judgment. I was planning on feeding my alternate a concoction of alcohol and methadone.

I stood in front of the attic door. Ready to try for another world. My hands shook slightly as I gripped the handle. I pulled the door and...

Drywall.

It didn't work. I tried a few more times but to no avail. I tried jiggling the handle first, vocally begging the door, closing my eyes and I even kicked the door, but nothing worked.

I sat on the floor in frustration, closed my eyes and tried to think on what I had done differently when I had gotten it to work. I replayed the memory in my mind and then I got an idea.

Once more I stood in front of the door and gripped the handle. This time however, I fixed in my mind an image of an alternate universe with a Daria ready to open the door on the other side, and then I pulled.

Thump.

Success! There on the other side, lay my alternate in a dead faint.

I was a little nervous. I could hardly believe I was going to go through with my plan. Then, I lost my nerve and slammed the door shut. I wasn't sure I was ready to take a life.

You've already taken a life. Remember Tom?

That was an accident. I didn't kill him. He could still be alive.

What about John's Daria? You may as well have killed her. It would have been kinder. Instead you have condemned her to a world where she would be thought of as crazy and probably tossed into a nuthouse somewhere.

Perhaps you're right.

Besides, is killing oneself really murder? The other Darias are just your clones. It will be just like freezing and cutting off a wart. It's better this way. They won't have to suffer.

I gathered up my courage and opened the door again, remembering to visualize yet another Daria in her universe. She fainted as expected and I dragged my 'clone' over to my side. I forced the funnel into her mouth and poured the drink down her throat.

Unfortunately, my 'clone' woke up halfway through.

Wide-eyed and choking, she knocked the funnel out and tried to scramble to her feet. I grabbed an old candleholder from the nearest box and swung it at her head, knocking her out again. This time I climbed atop of her to pin her down while I force-fed the rest of the liquid down her throat.

I then took the candleholder and funnel, and crossed over to the other side, shutting both doors. It was done. I crumpled to the attic floor and began to weep.

The first one is always the hardest. I cried long and hard that day. I cried for my cowardice. I cried for the loss of my innocence. I cried for the loss of my world, my home. There was no turning back now. I had blood on my hands.

I really thought that I would make this world my permanent home. I had covered up the attic door with boxes. I had taken care of the Daria from this world. No one was going to find me here. No more complications.

I tried. I really tried to fit into this world. My new family was normal by my standards. The fly in the ointment was Jane. In this reality, Daria and Jane had never met. I had not been careful enough in my research of this world to realize this, and had shown up at her front door on Monday morning. I thought she was joking when she claimed she didn't know me. By the time, I realized she was serious; she had taken off running. Needless to say, she thought I was a complete nutcase and avoided me thereafter.

I tried to make amends and start a friendship with Jane. It only made things worse. She thought I was a stalker. How else could I have known so many personal things about her? The students in school started whispering about me. Quinn told Helen and Jake about it, and they sent me to a psychiatrist. I told him what he wanted to hear and stopped trying with Jane.

It was a lonely existence. At least back in Highland I had Beavis and Butt-Head. Depressed, I tried to make friends with the other students. With my reputation though, no one would have me. Some were polite, making excuses for not wanting to hang out, while others were downright rude.

"I'm sorry, I already have other plans."

"I don't want to hang out with you. You're that crazy stalker!"

Each day, the temptation to leave grew stronger. It was a bad situation, and not likely to improve with time. I finally gave up on this world and left. It was easier this time around. I didn't rush it but took the time to arrange the scene of the 'suicide' better. I likened myself to the legendary bird, the phoenix, burning myself up into ash, only to arise anew.

It was foolish of me to have stayed as long as I did. Maybe I was punishing myself, thinking that I deserved that life. Really, there was no reason for me to suffer when there was an out so readily available. I just wish I didn't have to keep using it.

I found myself in a world where Daria had ingested a questionable 'fruitcake' that had been served in the school cafeteria. This had resulted in some rather inappropriate behavior from Daria to the amusement and horror of her fellow students. Furthermore, some joker had videotaped her antics and circulated it around school. I was still sensitive to people whispering about me from the world before, so this situation was intolerable. I left when I found an anonymous fruitcake in my locker.

The next world I went to had Helen as a single mother. Jake had died of a heart attack a few years ago. Helen had accepted the job in Lawndale for the better pay and the hope of one day making partner. Quinn and I hardly ever saw her. What little free time she had was spent with Eric. I think she viewed us as burdens. On the bright side, I rather liked the Quinn in this world. She was not the brain-dead fashionista I knew, but a serious, studious young lady. She had dreams of attending med-school some day. Alas, it was not enough to entice me to stay. I missed my dad. Although, to be honest, Helen's announcement about her pregnancy and impending marriage to Eric Schrecter was probably the main reason I left.

The world after that had a Quinn who was the apple of Helen and Jake's eyes. She could do no wrong, and I was nothing but a disappointment to them. From my snooping I learnt that they had plans to ship me off to military school. Jake had fond memories of his time there and thought it would take care of my bad attitude. If only he knew.

I really didn't seem to have much luck finding good worlds. In some of them Jane and Daria were sworn enemies or sometimes just indifferent to each other. In others, Jane wasn't even in Lawndale. There was one with Quincy in place of Quinn. One where I had another kid sister, named Ronnie. One where Tricia, a Trent alternate, was a drug pusher and Daria was her best customer. Some of these worlds were more memorable than others. One thing they all had in common was that in all of them, it sucked to be Daria.

Like the one with the strange Mr. DeMartino. I mean Mr. DeMartino had always been a bit odd, but this one gave me the chills. He was constantly watching me in class and his hand would 'accidentally' brush against mine when he returned my papers. I even thought I saw him drive past our house one night. I decided to leave before something happened.

Then there was the world with the quintuplet Quinns. I left as soon as I could. There was no hesitation there.

The most recent one was where Helen and Jake were having extra-marital affairs and Quinn was the town whore. Jane and I weren't even friends here. She had abandoned me in favor of Evan and the popularity that came with being a track star. I hate worlds where Jane and I aren't friends.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Daria! Dinner!" yelled Quinn through the door.

My 'family' was home. I got up from my bed and headed downstairs. Time to see how this world would play out.

"It was nice of the boys to offer to carry our bags, although Malcolm kept trying to get Lawrence and Carl to carry most of it. We didn't care one way or the other. Then, just as we were leaving Cashman's, Carl slipped on a banana peel. He really should have looked to see where he was going. Lawrence tried to help him up, but Carl accidentally pulled him down too. Malcolm yelled at them to be more careful and then they both tripped him on purpose! It was a good thing none of our bags were damaged. Sandi was just beside herself, and Stacy was almost hyperventilating. The boys apologized though and we got our bags safely to the car," said Quinn, all in one breath.

I was impressed by Quinn's lung capacity. No one would ever be able to kill Quinn by holding her underwater. She could hold her breath longer than you would be able to hold her down. Not that I would try.

"That's nice dear. What about you, Daria? How was your day?" asked Helen.

"My day did not involve the study of the gravitational effects of a banana peel. I did however count the number of cracks in the ceiling in my room. There were 4," I replied.

"I wonder if bananas would make a good bait for squirrels," interjected Jake, as he reached for another helping of lasagna.

Quinn frowned and asked in an accusing tone, "Did you leave a banana peel at the mall?"

"I plead the Fifth."

"Oh, Daria, don't tease your sister. I thought you were going to be at Jane's," said Helen.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" cried Quinn, "I had Carl pick up my books that I had left at Sandi's".

I was amused at how well trained, Quinn's admirers were. She was certainly a master at manipulating them to do her bidding. I doubt this Quinn gave them much more than a smile for their efforts. Of course I could be wrong. Time would tell.

"Mom! Dad! There's a policeman at the door! He wants to speak with Daria."

It's funny how the human mind works. An hour can seem like a blink of an eye. A minute can seem like an eternity.

Blink.

"What is this all about officer?" asked Helen.

Blink.

I was halfway up the stairs, heading for the attic. I didn't know what this was all about, but I wasn't going to stay to find out.

Blink.

The policeman had pinned me to the ground and was in the process of handcuffing my wrists together.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Jane Melissa Lane. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to..."

"My Daria is innocent! You can't do this!" ranted Jake.

Blink.

"We'll get you out of here, Daria. I know of a very good defense attorney."

Blink.

"You say you didn't do it and I'd like to believe you. The polygraph test alone does not prove your innocence. Besides, it is not permissible as evidence in court."

Blink.

"Can you point out the person you saw leaving your house, on the day of the murder?"

A well-dressed Trent with haunted eyes pointed his index finger straight at me.

Blink.

"You couldn't handle Jane leaving you for Alison. If you couldn't have her, no one could, so you killed her. Then, you left her house, and tried to hide the knife and your blood-stained clothes in the attic."

Blink.

"We the jury, find the defendant, Daria Eve Morgendorffer, guilty of murder in the first degree."

I turned around to see Helen and Quinn burst into tears. Jake had his arms around them, somehow managing to keep his calm. I barely heard them sentence me to life imprisonment. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trent get up and leave the courtroom.

Blink.

I lie on the thin mattress staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks. There's not much to do here. My cellmate and I don't talk. Talking draws attention. I've learnt to keep my mouth shut. I have fifty-five years left, before I would be eligible for parole.

Blink.

I look at my watch. A minute has passed. I wait.

Epilogue

The tall, thin, elderly gentleman slowly climbed up the stairs into the attic. It had been a long time since he had last been here. He was here to check that nothing of value, sentimental or otherwise, had been left behind. It was time to let go and sell the house. He had held on to it for far too long. Probably because it was the last connection he had with 'her'.

The attic was completely bare, save for the coat of dust. He shivered a little, though it wasn't cold. He hadn't felt comfortable being up here since the incident, fifty-four years ago. His eyes gravitated towards the attic door. He could almost feel it beckoning to him.

One last time, for old times sakes, he thought.

Gripping the handle firmly in his hand, he pulled the door open.

There on the other side of the door, stood an elderly woman in a bright red dress with lips to match. Her blue eyes widened in surprise for a brief second, before focusing into a piercing glare.

"It's about time. Do you have any idea how many times, I've opened this door?" asked the woman grumpily.

"No matter, you're here now. I have someone you might want to see," said the woman as she moved aside to reveal 'her'.

"John? Is that you?" asked Daria hesitantly. Her hair, or what was left of it, had turned completely white. She was dressed in a green blouse and comfortable brown slacks, which hung loosely around her thin frame. She looked confused, peering at him with eyes that were fast filling with tears.

Age had not been kind to her, but to John, she looked beautiful. John answered by striding over and embracing her in his arms. Daria sighed and rested her head on his chest, content at last.

Jane quietly snuck down the stairs, wondering what she was going to tell the family downstairs about what had happened to Daria. They had certainly humored the two old ladies by allowing them to visit the house. Oh well, she was inventive. She'll figure something out.

Special thanks to:
Charlie Girl, Angelinhel and TAG for 'Illusions'
RLobinske for the character 'John Lane'
Kara Wild for 'A Desperately Needed Ending (to 'Depth Takes a Holiday')'
Robert Nowall for the character 'Veronica Morgendorffer'
Angelinhel for 'A Broken Night'
The Angst Guy for 'Quinnts'