This is the continuation of an original fiction piece by baloonacy, formerly known as crazienis. The first part is here.
The Dark Years, Segment 2
After sitting in the tree for 10 cold, damp, miserable minutes, Tom showed up. All the cold seemed to melt away when I saw him. He looked slightly put off, but when he saw me his face lit up. He jogged the rest of the way to the tree and gave me a hand down. We squished across my lawn for the final time, though I wasn’t sad to see it go. It had been the site of many childhood injuries, though they had been my fault because I had had no one else there to blame or even talk to. As I fastened my seatbelt in Tom's truck, his face fell.
"Tommy, what's the matter?" I asked, confused.
"Braden's up to his old tricks again, and this time, he's dead serious. So just be careful, and don't tell him that I'm going to be the one to finish the rite for you, because if he knows, he'll jump the gun and possibly kill you."
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