Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Two: I'll Even Wear My Birthday Suit With You So You Don't Feel Left Out

Chapter Two: "I'll Even Wear My Birthday Suit With You So You Don't Feel Left Out."

WAIT, HUH?

"What?" I frown. I'm confused? Why in Gods name are we going to Brazil? Are they high–drunk, even? This has got to be some kind of prank. My parents wouldn't even let me leave the state for spring break. And Charlie? Hell, he'd never agree to it. I'd be too far to smack. Ooh, maybe this is a good thing.

"You and Tyler are going to watch the World Cup finals! For your birthday. It's more like a birthday present for both of you." My mom shrieks, and Charlie's smile gets deeper. Please stop smiling, fat man. It's scaring me. It takes a minute for me and Tyler to process what's happening. Charlie is smiling. Charlie has agreed to send me out of the country. My mother has agreed to send me out of the country. Without any adults. What the actual hell is happening? Am I dreaming? Someone pinch me.

Then it finally strikes us.

I totally forgot it was my birthday. Tyler must've forgotten, too; or he was doing a pretty damn good job at hiding it and not telling me.

I don't really get good gifts for my birthday, let alone gifts at all. It was really nice they got me something good. Everything else, was just clothes, beatings, money, and knitted sweaters from one of my grandparents. That stuff is fine–minus the beating–but too often given. Minus the sweaters, too. Those are itchy and I think I'm allergic to something in the fabric; whenever I would be forced to wear them or touch them my eyes burn, I can't see, I get rashes where it's touched, and my breathing becomes difficult. I've even passed out before.

"For real?" Tyler says, flabbergasted. A smile grows to my face and doesn't disappear.

"Are you serious?!" I squeal happily. "We're going to Brazil!" I look at Tyler, who is just as happy as I am.

My parents start laughing. Pretty hard. My parents got to be on meth right now.

Maybe they're taking this a little too well.

"Yes! We have four tickets. You can bring a few friends."

"Are you guys not coming?" Tyler asks. They shake their heads. As states before: leaving me with my best friends in another country alone? They're definitely messed in the head.

"We aren't really into watching football. We're thinking you two can go, and you each can bring a friend." My Dad answers. "'Course that's if your folks say its alright," He adds, looking at Tyler. I am in utter shock. Charlie is smiling at me–creepily, but still smiling nonetheless–my Mom is really energetic for being tired all week, and both of them are letting me leave the country. No, not just the country, the damned continent for heaven's sake. I must be dreaming.

"They wouldn't care," Tyler automatically responds. "They're never home."

He was pretty much right. His parents aren't really ones to follow what their sons actions are. I mean, it isn't like Ty is up to trouble like smoking pot and skipping school. He's a good kid. However, his parents are home for at least a few days a week, so they do better than mine do.

They were just working all the time, both on twenty four-hour shifts at the Fire Hall for some odd reason, even though full time meant twelve hour shifts and that they should be home at least two days a week. But with the lack of employees, Hell, Tyler would be lucky if they even had a holiday together. The Hall should just close down, but apparently they're rendered important for such a small crew. He could say he's travelling to England and they wouldn't care. Like—they would—but there isn't much about it they can do about a nineteen year old travelling the world when you work all the time and can't just leave a burning building for a lecture.