| Problems. Jemmiah's life seemed to consist entirely of problems. But more to the point: what was she to do about it? One time, when feeling so down in the mouth that she could have tripped over her lower lip, Qui-Gon - force, how she missed him! - had sat her down and tried to get her to talk through all the many, various things that she was finding particularly difficult to cope with. Of course, talking about her problems just made matters even more stressful for her…the words refused to come out and left her a stammering idiot, wishing to just curl up into an insignificant ball until the galaxy left her alone. She'd felt so foolish! But Qui-Gon had sat there patiently, smiling, seemingly understanding. Well, if she wasn't able to talk about her troubles to him or to Obi-Wan, so he had said, she could always try sorting them out by making a list. At first the idea sounded just plain odd. Then, the more she thought about it the more it made sense. Just by sitting down and rationally thinking through the problem she was taking control of the situation instead of letting it control her. Now, as she thought back over Qui-Gon's advice, she could appreciate the Jedi's reputation for calm, sensible logic - and never had it seemed so appealing! The grass underneath her feet was damp, as if recently watered and Jemmiah removed her jacket in preparation of sitting down upon the sparkling lawn. Tiny globules of water hung suspended from lush, green ferns, and if she pretended really hard the Corellian could imagine that each one was a tiny teardrop diamond. Wouldn't that be something, Jemmy thought, screwing up her face to make the image that little bit more realistic. A whole lawn of diamonds or Corusca jewels. Then she'd be rich - and Sophie would never be able to pick on her again! Well, a girl could dream… The trees above gave partial cover from the overhead sun and for the first time in a long while she felt almost at peace with both herself and with the galaxy in general. Perhaps Quiggy was right. Maybe gardening was good for the soul? It didn't look as if Obi-Wan felt the same commitment to all things green and horticultural as did his master: poor Ben had managed to murder an air plant on one occasion! No, it seemed as if the unifying force was Obi-Wan's mistress! Not 'mistress'…more a 'calling'. Jemmiah reminded herself with an impish grin. Jedi don't have mistresses…well, unless you're Dex. And he's got so many that I guess it's not that big a deal any more! Fat chance of Ben ever having a mistress. Qui-Gon would never let him! Okay. Time to get serious. Jemmiah seated herself upon the grass, smoothing the fabric of her uniform jacket down on either side of her, hoping Sal-Fina wouldn't criticize her for having let her clothing get into such a disreputable state. Master Jinn had said to make a list. The first step in finding a solution was analysis of the problem, and that problem consisted of - "Number one." Jemmiah spoke outloud. "Being abandoned. No Quiggy, no Ben. Nobody to talk to except my diary. There's Snordle of course, but on certain planets talking to a plasti duck is a certifiable offence. Question: am I to blame in any way for my predicament?" It was a difficult one to answer. Her guardians were and always would be Jedi to the core. Nothing would change it; not even her own presence in their lives and the only thing she could hope for was that her company was not an intrusive one. Qui-Gon had volunteered to take her on - had pursued the matter to ridiculous lengths by all accounts - but how much had been done out of duty? How much had his willingness to take her into his home been down to the promise he'd made back on Nargotria? Oh, she'd heard him talking to Vernice about that one…how Nadine had made him swear to see that she was safe at all times. If she needed proof that she was a burden then that was surely it. Yet there were times where Master Jinn seemed to genuinely take a delight in her company…oh, it was all so confusing! Had Qui-Gon's promise been made under duress? And had that been the reason he'd been so keen to escape on the mission with Obi-Wan? Was her bored of her staying with him? Was it her fault that he had gone…had she chased him out? "No." Jemmiah answered herself with a sorry shake of her head, wavy, chestnut strands of hair catching the corners of her mouth as she spoke. "I don't think so. I won't believe that until I hear him admit it! It's not my fault." Whose fault was it then? "Master Windu." Jemmy growled, all but grinding her teeth together. "I mean…why? I thought he was on my side? I even thought he liked me! But how can he when he dumps me on Sal-Fina?!? I could have been with someone like An-Paj, I know it! Why didn't he convince the council? Think of all those antennae! I just love An-Paj's antennae! I'd really love a pair…" Lastly, could she do anything about her present situation? "Again," she sighed heavily, "no. I can't bring 'em back by snapping my fingers or praying or begging the force to send them home. So, looks like I'm worrying about something I have no control over." There, she thought with satisfaction. That was easy! Okay, it hadn't solved her problem - that wouldn't be fixed until Quiggy and Ben got back...But now at least she knew she had nothing to reproach herself with and so she hurriedly set about trying to conquer her next obstacle… "Sophie pig-face." Jemmiah's eyes narrowed dramatically, the iris becoming moodily darker. "She hates me. Infact she wants to murder me. She's stupid, a bully and spoiled. Thinks she can get everything she wants by running to daddy." Correction: she knew she could get everything she wanted by running to daddy. Because daddy wasn't poor. Daddy wasn't a jedi. Daddy knew many wealthy and influential friends. And Sophie would exploit that any way she could. "Question: is it my fault?" Partly, because she'd undoubtedly made the situation worse by daring to stand up to her. If she'd knuckled down and ignored her like Qui-Gon had suggested then the chances were there would be no imminent death sentences hanging over her head. But because she was different from her classmates - because she didn't have money and power to tap into when in trouble - taking a stand against the likes of Sophie must have seemed even more galling to the pre-teenage terror. She was a nuisance…an insect. A parasitic bug living off other people's kindness. And bugs needed to be squashed. "No! I have every right to stand up for myself!" Jemmy bristled, her hands grasping two handfuls of fabric within each balled fist. "Why should I bow and scrape to her? I'm no worse than she is…infact I am better! One day she'll get what's coming to her, and when she does I hope I'm there to see it!" So saying, Jemmiah allowed herself to slowly calm down. "I can't fix the problem either. If I apologize and grovel - she'll flatten me. If I apologize but cross my fingers behind my back whilst saying so - she'll still flatten me. If I go on ignoring her - she'll continue to pick on me until I pay attention - and then she'll flatten me. And if I stand up to her," Jemmiah swallowed at the image of the towering, ungainly Sophie in her minds eye, "she'll definitely flatten me! So there's kriff all I can do about it, pardon my vile Corellian tongue!" That only left problem three. And problem three was the least pleasant of the lot… "Sal-Fina." Jemmiah found it difficult to mention the woman's name without grimacing. "She's rude, nosy and dislikes everyone and everything that I like! And I caught her throwing a face cloth over Snordle this morning so that she couldn't see him! She's vain, only interested in herself or Ambianca. She's also totally banoodly!" Jemmiah circled the side of her head with her finger in a looping motion. "Question: is that my fault? Answer: Is it kriff! Question: what are you going to do about it? Answer…" Jemmiah suddenly felt the sun disappear from just behind her and whipped round to see what had cause the dramatic, unexpected eclipse. A jedi, standing over her, his brown robe falling way down to his feet like a cascade of sculpted chocolate, hanging in rugged folds…a man who was both tall, yet slightly stooped with age. Piercing eyes appraised her from within slightly hollowed sockets, and the hair - long and tied back at the sides just like Master Jinn's - was a sickly yellow gray shade. Putting aside her surprise, Jemmiah attempted to make good any excuses that might be needed for her impromptu trespassing… "And what, pray," Master Quillan's arch, yet curious voice hailed her, "are you doing out here? I've seen you loitering around at every given opportunity. It seems that whenever I happen to walk around the gardens that you are here." "I like it here, sir." Jemmy tried to sound polite and conscientious without bordering on downright obsequious. "Indeed!" "The plants are nice…the trees are lovely. The gardens are just, well, friendly! And it's calming…" She reached out to pat the wet lawn as if it were the back of a friendly cannoid. "…and relaxing." Quillan seemed surprised, but not altogether displeased with her reply. He understood the love of peace and tranquility, especially as the temple gardens were in many ways an oasis: a verdant, force-blessed garden of delights amidst an eternally busy and rambunctious city. This garden was his life's work…every rock and every tree put there by his design, and if it were not considered proper for a jedi to show too much pride, Quillan felt that it was totally justifiable in the case of the temple gardens. Simply, it was a great and beautiful thing: a living paradise. "I was looking around trying to decide what to put in the borders back yonder." Quillan changed the topic, glad not to have to deliver a lecture on the evils of misusing temple property: obviously the girl was not doing any harm. "I was under the impression that they were empty. And yet there are plants beginning to shoot! All over the place, infact." The man frowned, wondering for a moment if he were losing his memory with the onset of old age. "I shall have to consult my records and see if I have a note of what we put in there and when. I could swear that the beds were empty…" "I'm sure they'll be lovely whatever they are." Jemmiah offered encouragingly. "Hmmm? Yes, no doubt." The befuddled Quillan agreed with an absent nod. "I'm sure you are right. And now, what about you? Should you be out here? Won't your guardian be missing you?" Jemmy's radiant expression soured instantly, and even Quillan managed to catch the hidden meaning. "He's gone away on a mission." Jemmiah grumbled, discontent lending passion to her voice. "So I am down here trying to avoid my temporary guardian." "And who," Quillan asked politely, "might that be?" The Corellian girl all but snorted distastefully. "Sal-Fina." Quillan took the news in, looking at the girl…then at the ground…then up at the sky as he considered what to say. "Very good." He nodded after a moment of reflection had passed. His lips might not have twitched but his eyes had shown nothing but very real sympathy and it seemed to Jemmy at that point that Sal-Fina was even less well regarded than she had previously imagined. "Carry on." And with that final benediction the old man walked away, prodding the grass as he went with the tow of his soft-skinned boot and stopping every so often to examine one of the little shoots of green poking through the surface of the soil beds. Curious behavior, Jemmy thought. Quillan might be getting on in years but everyone credited him with one of the sharpest brains in the temple. Imagine not remembering if you'd planted something! No wonder he felt embarrassed! Unless of course the seeds had blown in from somewhere, taking root far from the place that they had been scattered… "Force!" Jemmiah squealed, slapping a hand over her mouth to stop Quillan from hearing her. "Kriffkriffkriffkriffkriff! The Lucifer Tree Winder bulbs! I buried them in amongst the other plants! Oh, hell's teeth don't let it be them! No, it can't be…calm down Jemmy. There's no way that can be them!" Jemmiah closed her eyes. Who was she trying to fool? Now she had another problem to add to her list! ENTRY FORTY-ONE: We have a problem. Those bulbs in the gardens I told you about? It looks like they've started to sprout. Master Quillan's going to freak out if he thinks they might be a bit...you know. Suspect. Sith, maybe that's why those kiddies were running about like sand hamsters on hot coals!!! I have to go check and see if some of those plants have more than sprouted, coz if they've flowered there's going to be BIG trouble… For the next three days Jemmiah had trailed down towards the gardens, wondering what she should do about the dreaded tree winder situation, always hoping that inspiration - and a solution - would somehow present itself. After all, inspiration was a Corellian speciality! By retreating to the scene of her unwitting crime every day after school Jemmy hoped that not only would she escape Sal-Fina but more importantly she'd be able to confront her latest and trickiest problem. So far, she had to admit it hadn't worked one whit. Instead of inspiration she felt only desperation. She could always try risking pulling the wretched plants up by the roots but no doubt someone would see her and demand to know precisely why she was giving Quillan's gardens an impromptu makeover. And there had been quite a few bulbs planted… Nor had they been planted merely in the borders. Some had been buried amongst the bushes, some near the pond…yet more still amidst the rockery. Just thinking about it made the Corellian's knees quake with fear. At the time she'd done it purely so that she could save the poor things from being taken away and incinerated; there had been no consideration given as to the outcome when the ghastly things actually started to flower! Now seemed like a very good time to give it some serious consideration because when the flowers began to bloom there would be major trouble awaiting her. The fact that they used the pollen from LTW's to make the rather inelegantly named toxic matter known as 'Drek' was not something to be taken lightly; it was a highly dangerous and illegal hallucinogenic substance that sometimes caused dependency and addiction to the substance. Spreading a little happiness was one thing, but you could take things too far sometimes… If the bell-like flowers had opened then there was every chance that it would begin to blow all over the gardens - maybe even the temple itself! Then it would get swept up through open windows, over into the ventilation system…maybe carried around on people's robes! Before too long there would be thousands of extremely happy jedi trying to pick fights with weird and wonderful, non-existent people! And try to mediate a peaceful settlement afterwards… Maybe - if the buds opened - she could harvest some of the stuff and put it in Sophie's locker! But then Qui-Gon would be so ashamed of her, and deep down she knew she was better than that. Why stoop to the same sewer-like level as Sophie the pig? Shoozer, the very thought of Digwurt set her blood boiling! The last few days had, if anything, seen a distinct escalation of the menacing glances, whispering and plotting going on all around her in class, and something told Jemmy that things were about to reach a very nasty head over the coming weeks. Coming to a head…that made her laugh! Although the idea was disturbing, Jemmiah quite liked the imagery of Sophie as a suppurating, scrofulous boil! It did seem rather apt! She'd just have to increase her vigilance and make certain that she was as ready to go on the defensive as Sophie was on the attack. Wandering around, trailing her jacket behind her along the grass, Jemmiah continued to recollect several strange things that had happened in the gardens, seemingly unconnected, that now appeared maybe a little less coincidental and innocent than before - all involving the youngest of the jedi initiates. First of all, children liked to run. It was an inherent thing built into every living being and Jemmiah could understand that such skittish behavior was simply a way of expressing joy at being alive; of celebrating a youthful, carefree vigor through play. On Nargotria she had longed to run and jump as she once had back home on Corellia, but on the slave planet priorities had been vastly different. Drawing attention to oneself in such a happy, exuberant fashion was not an option, whereas staying out of sight and remaining alive most certainly was. Still, she had longed to run and be free; she assumed it was the same with all children. But jedi children, she discovered, were different. They were disciplined, orderly and dignified. In many ways they seemed to be miniature adults: serious and attentive most of the time. They never ran, they walked; and when they did it was always in nice, neat files of two. The initiates seemed to have even less of a childhood than she had. Even when enslaved Jemmiah could always rely on her daydreams, but now she began to doubt if the jedi actually had any imagination at all to their credit. It was all so…serious! That was why, yesterday, she had been so alarmed at seeing the initiates running around in circles all the time, raucously playing games of 'tag' and 'catch-the-nerf'…or even just hitting each other. Not exactly normal behavior, Jemmiah mused, rubbing the bruises that had come up on her stomach and ribs as a result of being caught up amongst the rough 'n tumble and tomfoolery. Several of the rampaging little 'darlings' had run smack into her, knocking her feet away from underneath her and leaving her winded on the ground, totally flattened. In the background she had heard the distressed cries of the minders (obviously not doing their job very well!) as they attempted to round up their errant charges into an orderly group. This, Jemmy had noted, had taken over an hour. And why had the three padawans she had seen loitering near the rockery been staggering sideways like a drunken crab? Jemmiah had at first put it down to exactly that: she'd been intoxicated before and could well remember that spinning sensation, watching as the world slipped by - horizontally. The chances were that they'd been taking a nip of something a little more powerful than An-Paj's medicinal alcohol! Now however Jemmy wondered if it wasn't down to a different kind of intoxication altogether. "Garbage!" Jemmiah bit her lip, looking at her chrono and wondering if she should chance going back to Sal-Fina's apartment…then again did she really want to spend any great length of time with the evil woman? Shaking her head, Jemmiah decided she could afford to stay out for at least another five or so hours. "I'm going to prove that all this weird stuff's not down to the LTW's! It's all a big load of coincidences strung together making it look like something bigger. I mean, two of the bulbs I tried to grow in pots back home didn't so much as shoot! Okay, so I planted 'em upside down, but hey, the principle's the same! I bet none of the plants I scattered around the gardens have flowered. Those bulbs that Quillan saw weren't mine…and there are no LTW's anywhere that have caused any harm." There was only one thing for it. She'd hang around by the bushes where she'd planted a small clump of the bulbs and stay there for at least a couple of hours. If she remained unaffected then it would prove it was just her imagination. If it proved otherwise then she'd probably die, knowing her luck. But in a Quiggy-less world filled with the likes of Sal-Fina and Sophie that hardly seemed important. The experiment might just prove to be worth the risk. Reaching into her shoulder bag for her trusty diary, Jemmiah made her way towards the tall ferns and long, green stems, breathing in the scented and heady air. If she were going to observe properly she would need to record her thoughts. Then afterwards, if Sal-Fina ever left her in peace, she could reflect over those observations at length. Trying to discover the truth was one thing…but what was she going to do about it if the plants really were to blame? Seating herself, the Corellian settled herself down for a long wait… ENTRY FORTY TWO: All I can say is I'm glad that Master Jinn's not here to see this. I don't think anyone else has worked it out yet but every day I go to the gardens and every day these rampaging children go running about as if their shirts were on fire… I believe my fears were well founded and that some of the LTW's have flowered and from what I can see are spreading their pollen all over the place. It smells really strong…I'm sitting not far from a clump that's come up but I can't see what's so bad about it because apart from feeling a little dizzy it hasn't affected me at all… Swirly. Everything was all swirly and pretty and…pink. Not just pink either! All manner of wonderful colours curling like trails of smoke, mingling amongst one another in a slick of painted sky and clouds! Millions of tiny zip-zips - a nectar supping butterfly-like creature - swarmed above Jemmiah's head in the most incredible display of aviation the Corellian child had ever witnessed in her life. A beautiful, gentle zephyr caused by the fluttering of their tiny wings made Jemmiah's hair to stream backwards from her forehead whilst she marveled at the spectacle above. This…this was amazing! Simply spectacular to behold! Was it any wonder that Qui-Gon was so fond of gardening if this was what happened? The sky sort of resembled a giant psychedelic trifle made up with radioactive fruit topping, thought Jemmiah in admiration. Even the clouds looked like orange floss…it was so tempting to just stretch out her hand and reach up to the fluffy, feathery strands; but usually Qui-Gon was quite strict about snacking between meals. Not that she called the reconstituted powder-in-packets that Sal-Fina gave her as a proper meal: by the time Master J came back she would probably have died of malnutrition. It was just so appealing! Why, she was just about hungry enough to eat a scabby Bantha… It was odd; Jemmy paused to reflect, that a Bantha should choose that specific moment in time to materialize upon Master Quillan's lawns. Nor was it an ordinary Bantha, but a huge, hairy beast the size of the temple spire itself! Wasn't it just incredible the things you saw when you were least expecting it? If only Qui-Gon could see it, he would surely be impressed! Although perhaps he might be less thrilled about the way it was tucking into Quillan's favorite orchids…oh, dear! The old man was bound to find out and then there would be absolute hell to pay. After all, he was her Bantha. She'd been the one who'd thought him up…who'd brought him to life. There was something about the mournful way he sat chewing at the long, green stems that reminded Jemmiah of her own situation. No friends, nobody to speak to (Sal-Fina didn't count) and the weight of the galaxy bearing down on already burdened shoulders…this Bantha was the metaphorical representation of her life, she decided, although she wasn't sure if the large heap of dung left on the lawns was part of the statement or not. As the flowers rapidly disappeared into the creature's mouth Jemmiah decided that it was probably better to have an imaginary friend that ignored her than real ones who did exactly the same… "You're making an awful mess!" Jemmy sighed at the phantom Bantha, knowing that he was both real and yet at the same time an illusion thought up by her drug-addled brain. He was real to her: that was all that mattered. "Still, I guess Quillan's lawns will turn out nice, huh?" The Bantha eyed her balefully as the last of the flowers disappeared down its capacious gullet. "Look, I thought you up. The least you can do is talk to…hey!" Jemmiah spotted the display of dancing Florizan green flamingos billing and cooing on the edge of the lower fountain tier. "Now THAT is soooo amazing! Shoozer, where's my holocam? This would look incredible - just think, Ben will never believe me when he gets home! Oh, kriff take it, imagine them being away at a time like this? I've never seen anything like this before in my life!" Jemmiah was not the only one in the gardens who seemed to have noticed the strange phenomena judging by the somewhat puzzled expression on the face of one jedi master who was being steered for his late afternoon constitutional around the gardens. Briefly Jemmy wondered if she was imagining him too, yet one glimpse of her chrono (which seemed to be doing its damnedest to melt all over her wrist like a rubbery fried egg) confirmed that it was indeed time for Quirida-Xac Montal's daily airing. At the controls stood the ever dutiful yet habitually concerned looking Knight Kizzen; clearly uneasy as to the reason that his 'patient' was peering up into the sky in such animated fashion. So, the young man hadn't seen what was going on about them? It hardly mattered: Quirida-Xac had! The rather odd duo passed through the "weeping trees" that stood with bended boughs of silver, trailing foliage, looking for all the world as if they were two, naughty school children hoping to evade detention for heinous misdemeanors too hideous to mention. No doubt Master Berlingside had told Kurtas to take the old man out for a prolonged, refreshing turn in the gardens, which didn't necessarily coincide with the knight's own idea of quality time. Master Montal, from the little she had seen of him over the past few days, had looked thoroughly bored. If the two of them had formed a pact to cut corners on Dex's instructions then small blame to them… "I think," Jemmiah muttered to herself, "he's spotted the zip-zips…yes! He has!" She opened up her diary and began to type frenetically what was going on all around her, fingers moving so fast that she hardly had time to wonder if she'd made any errors. Kurtas still hadn't seen the butterfly creatures but Master Montal appeared utterly entranced by them as they circled his head, reaching incredulously out to touch the delicate, translucent wings. "Woweeee! They're attacking him! Oh, this is great! I think they're trying to pick him up by the ears and fly with the old Nerf! That's what he gets for grabbing them!" Now Kurtas really did look alarmed, and Jemmiah could see why. From his point of view the old man in the repulsar chair was rocking frantically about from side to side and making lunges at things that didn't exist! While everything was shiny and wonderful, glowing and shimmering like a sunset haze in the desert, Berlingside's former padawan could not even begin to see it. Yes, he looked a lot more concerned…especially when Master Montal suddenly grabbed control of the repulsar chair with the force out of Kurtas' sweaty grasp and powered it up towards the sky! "Go on Master Q!" Whooped Jemmy, punching the air as the old man shot up like a rocket in search of his butterfly friends. "Good for you! Kriff, I didn't think he could get so high on one of those things…must remember that for future reference!" The Corellian beamed, staring up after the jedi, rubbing the crick out of her neck. Force, he was flapping his arms like a bird! "He can move when he wants to, can't he!" Jemmiah burst into hysterical laughter as Kurtas ran a few steps towards her, utterly dismayed. "I have soooo got to add this to my diary! I'm gonna record it forever and ever and ever! I'll still be laughing twenty years from now!" Uh-oh. The comlink was coming out. Soon the fun would be all over. Jemmiah watched as Quirida-Xac did a rather foolhardy loop-the-loop, narrowly missing Jemmy's Bantha and tearing all the petals from Quillan's flowers in the process, leaving a large trail of confetti in his wake streaming down like ticker tape. What a day to remember! The flowers were dancing (the ones still with their petals intact), the Bantha was stampeding all over the lawns leaving big foot-shaped indentations in the grass. Initiates were screaming and hurling themselves all over the place - they were even hanging from the trees! Jemmy didn't care one bit…it was all so much fun, she felt her heart might burst with the excitement of it all! Why couldn't every day be like that? Now she understood why people felt the need to take anti-depressants…now, she thought more soberly, she understood why false reality was such a terrible thing. After every high, the low as real life came seeping back would be even more unbearable than before: drugs, the ultimate quick fix, were not the answer. Now… She felt rather sick. There was An-Paj tearing across the lawn, with the lumbering Healer Xadaani trying her best to keep up with him. Not far behind was the extremely dashing looking padawan Gethin Territ. But handsome is as handsome does, as Qui-Gon always said, and both Gethin and Ferdi seemed to be facing great resistance when trying to get the initiates down from the trees. "An-Paj," Jemmy recorded in her diary, "is trying to pull Quirida-Xac down with the force and he's not having any of it! It's like a game of tug-o-war with an invisible rope and Master Montal's winning at the moment. Go on, sir! We can't have these healer types win!!! Yes, he's making a run for it…over the Woodthorns…everyone chasing after him…An-Paj is determined to get his man…oh, whoops! Master Montal's crashed! He seems deliriously happy about it though so he can't be hurt. Quillan's NOT going to be happy when he sees the repulsar marks all over his lawn in big figure eight shapes!" As the make-believe, hallucinated Bantha attempted to charge Ferdi, the lightheaded Jemmiah felt a pair of perceptive 'healer' eyes alight upon her from a good, long distance away, and threw herself down on the ground. She knew it had to stop sometime…the most fun day she'd ever had in her whole life…and yet she didn't want it to; not yet! Gethin was sitting - literally - on two of the initiates to keep them from climbing up the trees again…it just wasn't the usual sort of thing you got to see in the sensible and orderly world of the jedi. And all because of those stupid plants she'd buried in the gardens… "I think I've been spotted!" Jemmy wrote, flattening herself against the grass as she did so. "I'm going to lie low amongst the LTWs and then maybe nobody will find me…" |
| It Takes One to Know One Part 8 - by Jemmiah |
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