After Brooke consumes her crunchy toast and swallowed her orange juice, she clears her plate, then waited for her friends to finish. 

Her smooth brown hair slithered diagonally across her chest. Brooke's solemn eyes gaze at her dirty plate. 

Her hand turns the faucet knob, letting the steamy liquid gush into the large tub. The visible condensation reminded Brooke about moist fog swarming around her.

Chills caressed Brooke's spine, rendering her senses. And just when she was about to give in, the monster opened its powerful—

"Brooke," Nessa stood near the sink, looking at her friend's paralyzed face.

Realizing that she left the sink on, an anxious Brooke deactivated the faucet.

"Yeah?" she asked as if nothing happened.

"Are you okay?"  

A nervous smile appeared on Brooke's lips.

"I am fine," Brooke insisted. 

Nessa stares at her for an hour. Although she does not have Caleb's mind-reading abilities, the girl knew it had something to do with Brooke's horrible vision.

"Maybe I can wash the dishes," Nessa proposed, taking the plate from Brooke's hands. "Just sit down and relax."

Brooke tries to protest when Johnny and Caleb politely took her back to the dining table. 

They were finished consuming their hearty breakfast; however, the boys wanted to sit down, so they can digest.

Sitting beside Brooke, Johnny asked, "Can you draw me a picture of what that girl looks like in your vision?" 

She did a slow nod before taking out a small notebook and pencil from her purse. Caleb and Johnny watched as Brooke sketched the outline of the little girl's face.

Her memory was a little foggy; but even so, she penciled, erased, and shaded in every detail until the artist is satisfied with her work.  

"Here." Brooke pushed the notebook in front of Johnny, so he can take a closer look.

The light pencil strokes constructed her blond hair; the girl's lips formed an innocuous smile, but her dark gray eyes tell a different story.

"Whoa," Johnny smiled, passing the small notebook over to Caleb. "You're a natural."

Brooke blushes at the compliment. "Thanks, I guess." 

Taking a hold of the journal, Caleb grin. "We can use this for our investigation."

After Nessa was finished washing the dishes, she approached her friends.

"Use what for our investigation?" she inquires.

Sighing, Caleb passes the notebook over to Nessa who breathes, "Whoa, did Brooke drew this?" 

"Yep," he beamed proudly. "She's the best artist in the world."

Soft red burned her cheeks as Brooke kissed Caleb on his right temple.  

"This is the girl you saw in your vision?" asked Nessa.

"Yeah." the young clairvoyant nodded. "We can use this to ask people if they know her."

Johnny's lips formed a doubtful frown.

"I don't know, Brooke," he muttered. "People won't take us kindly because we're freaks." 

Nessa crossed her arms. "If Brooke wants us to find the girl in her vision, we'll do it."

Caleb bobs his head in agreement. His comforting hand slithered around Brooke's and held it for a long period.

"Look, Brooke is an amazing clairvoyant." began Johnny. "But I am just afraid that something bad might happen to you guys."

In an instant, the dining table becomes quiet. Nessa eventually hands Brooke back her notebook, whereas Caleb abandons his chair.

His feet shuffle across the floor, but for some strange reason, Caleb alienates himself from Johnny.

Even though the boys are close friends, Caleb fears that Johnny would go right back to hating him if he invades his personal space. 

"Johnny, nothing bad is going to happen to us." he frowned. "We're just going to look for the girl and return her to her parents. What could go wrong?" 

*   *   *   *  *
Angry winds ruffled her clean hair as Nessa locked the door behind her. The salmon pink sand sloshed their ankles like warm maple syrup. 

Floating above their heads was grumbling, storm clouds grumbled, but not a single drop of rain splashed on the children.

"That's odd," said Caleb, gazing up at the sky. 

"Is it going to be raining outside?" 

"No clue," Brooke replied in an unsure tone. "But if it does, we need to find shelter and quick."

Squinting at the storm clouds settling above the beach house, Nessa asked Johnny: "Is it too late to put on our rain jackets?"

Johnny did a tired sigh. "I don't know. Maybe we should—"

He was interrupted when he caught a glimpse of a dead Kraken laying face down on the moistened shore. 

Covered in abrasions, lashes, and exuding wounds, the Kraken's tentacles were gnawed by black flies and writhing maggots.

"Ugh, that is disgusting!" Nessa groaned.

Even Caleb turned his nose in contempt. "We shouldn't leave the Kraken on the beach."

Brooke nods silently. Her feet tread across the sand as she gazed at the monster's slashed eyes.

"As much as I am relieved that thing is dead," she started to say. "I couldn't help but feel sorry about it."

Johnny expressed an exhausted sigh. "Maybe we should let the cops handle it."

His little sister Nessa scoffs a laugh. 

"You think the cops can deal with a Kraken?" she snorts. "Oh please, those pigs are so full of themselves."

To catch up with her, Brooke executes a graceful yet nimble saunter across the white pavement.

"What do you mean by that, Nessa?" asked Brooke. "Not every cop is dirty."

Nessa rolls her eyes. "Haven't you heard of Rodney King, Brooke?"

For those of you who haven't heard of Rodney King, let's just say that his story is not a pleasant one. 

You see, Rodney King is a construction worker who was severely beaten by an army of police officers. A witness who saw the conflict recorded the event, but two of the officers who injured King had been acquitted.

As a result, the Los Angeles riot had begun. 

People looted stores and threw Molotov cocktails at police cars until the city was cleaned with fire and smoke. 

Treading past two women in skimpy summer clothes, Brooke did a sigh. 

"I have heard of the Rodney King incident," she responds with an impatient grunt. "And I find it awful that those assholes beat up an innocent man."

Johnny agreed. His majestic sword bounces across his straightened back.

Seagulls stretched their white wings, hugging the salty gray sky. And despite the dismal weather, the beach was peaceful.

There were no feet wading in shallow waters or beach towels resting on the sand. 

But the only thing that ruins the children's day is the stench of rotting hot dogs coming from the metal trash can. 

"Ugh, I hate hot dogs." Brooke scowls as she walks past the trash can. 

Nessa adjusts her white tank top strap on her left shoulder. 

"What's wrong about hot dogs?" she pouted. 

"Hot dogs are made of meat. I like meat."

"Well, I don't." Brooke retorts. "There is nothing savory about processed meats being roasted in a dirty barbecue grill."

Johnny smirked, "I never knew you were a vegan." 

Brooke is many things, but she does not care for milk, meat, or eggs. 

At the age of four, Brooke had witnessed a farmer taking a pig to a slaughterhouse and vowed to eat veggie burgers, tofu, and occasionally drink soy milk. 

"What?" she brushes the lazy breadcrumbs from her babydoll dress. "Unlike you, I enjoy trying new things, Johnny."

Before they broke up, Johnny tried to go a day without eating meat but it was impossible.

Johnny hated vegetables—including broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and spinach. He doesn't understand how Brooke can eat them without throwing up in the wastebasket.

Because the car ran out of gas, the children decided to go to town on foot. Caleb rubbed his eyes in a circular motion, preventing the sand from blinding them.

In the meantime, Johnny wanders behind Brooke so he can check on his little sister.

"Hey, Nessa." he began. 

The irritated Nessa Phoenix glanced at him for a moment. "What?"

"You seem pretty. .off today." Johnny observes. 

"I know," Nessa declared in dismay. "I am just a tiny bit worried about Brooke."

Her older brother sadly watches Brooke and Caleb walking ahead, communicating with each other.

"Yeah," he acknowledges sadly. "Me too."

A red Mustang propelled past them, leaving a trail of pitch-black smoke in the children's faces. 

Fanning the rancid fume with his hand, Caleb did a revolted snort. "Do we have to walk all the way to town?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Johnny nods sullenly. "If you haven't already guessed, the old car had run out of gas."

"Ugh," Nessa thinks bitterly. "I hate walking!" 

Caleb circles his eyes.

"I get it!" he grunted. "Can you keep your thoughts down? They're giving me a fucking migraine."

Nessa angrily punches him in the arm. 

"Will you stop reading my mind?" she growls.

"Ouch!" Caleb whined as he rubs his sore left arm. "Did you have to punch me that hard?!"

Johnny cuts his eyes at his younger sister and Caleb.

"Will you guys stop fighting each other?" he barked. "In case you two had forgotten, there is a little girl who needs our help."

In an instant, the teens stopped squabbling with each other and stayed focused.

"Do you even know where we are going?" Brooke asked tiredly as they walked along the dusty sidewalk. 

"I don't know, I thought you had a clue."

Brooke stops walking for a moment. "Just because I can see the future, doesn't mean I have all the answers!"

Caleb, who trotted behind Nessa, frowned: "I thought that is what most clairvoyants do."

Nessa casts him a funny look. "Where the hell did you hear that?" 

He was about to respond when a gorgeous silver-gray Toyota car pulled over to the curb.

"Two Princes" by Spin Doctors blared through the radio speakers as a privileged white boy took over the driver seat, wearing a navy blazer, khaki pants, and brown loafers.

"Hey kiddies," the driver grinned. "Need a ride?"

He appeared to be in his late teens—maybe eighteen or nineteen. 

His pale blonde hair is groomed, his lips lift into a happy smile, and cheerful blue eyes glimmered at the children.

But when Caleb reads the driver's thoughts, he realized that the guy had dark intentions.

"No thanks, man." Caleb contended, grabbing Johnny's shoulder. "We'll be fine on our own."

The rich socialite shrugs his shoulders and coolly glanced in Brooke's direction. 

"What about you, sweetheart?" he winked at her. "Do you want to hop in?"

Brooke shakes her head in disgust. "Ugh, no thanks." 

A snicker erupts from the driver as he leered at Brooke's legs.

"You sure you don't want a ride, honey?" he called out, ignoring her snide remark. "This car has an air conditioner and everything."

She did a sweet smile and approached the man behind the steering wheel. 

Meanwhile, her apprehensive boyfriend tries to stop Brooke but Johnny assured that everything is going to be okay. 

"What?" Caleb snarled. "How is everything going to be okay? I don't like the way he is looking at my girlfriend!"

Nessa can relate to his resentment towards the wealthy youths. If Caleb, Johnny, or Brooke were in danger, she would slaughter anyone who got involved.

"Just calm down, okay?" she mutters, clutching her dear friend's arm. "Brooke can handle herself."

Caleb looks at Brooke, who peers in the driver's face.

"How many miles does this baby have?" she grins flirtatiously.

"3,000 miles per hour." winked the boy.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" 

"Emily." 

"Pretty name." the male socialite noted. "Do you want to hang out sometime?"

Brooke's smile subsided. "Thanks, but I have a boyfriend."

She flew her hand inside her purse, whips out a glass bottle of pink liquid, then squirted the perfume in the driver's eyes. 

Caleb, Johnny, and Nessa gasped in awe as the driver gagged on the cherry blossom fragrance.

In fact, the gas became so toxic that purple veins begin to pop up from his forehead. The driver begins to cough until his creamy white eyelids drooped over his despicable gaze.

"Damn." Caleb watched the pink gas cloud dissipate on the dashboard. "I can't believe you killed that guy." 

"He's not dead, he's asleep." Brooke sighs as she puts her perfume inside her bag. 

Opening the car door, she drags the sleazy college boy out of his car.

To prove her point, the male socialite snored very loudly.

"Oh great, he snores." Johnny moaned. 

Both he and Caleb helped Brooke place the sleeping driver on the sidewalk while Nessa entered the automobile. 

She shuts the car door, shoves the key inside the car, and revved the engine when Johnny stops Nessa dead in her tracks.

"What the hell are you doing?" Johnny grunts.

Nessa is coolly staring at him. "I am driving us out of here."  

Johnny flashes her a disbelieving scowl. 

"No, you don't," he pointed out. "You have a learner's permit." 

She threw up her hands in the air. "It's the same thing!" 

"No, it's not!" argued Johnny. "Look, I want you to be safe!" 

"And I want to marry Eddie Vedder," Nessa interjected. "But that's not how the world works!" 

After abandoning the young driver on the sidewalk, Caleb and Brooke infiltrated the expensive car. 

Luscious gray cushions satisfied their worn bottoms as the couple quickly strapped in their ink-black seat belts. 

The whiffs of cherry blossom and gasoline stained their sweaty skin, resulting in the children's clothes smelling like dead fish. 

"Guys!" Brooke snaps. "Let's hurry before someone sees us!" 

An annoyed Nessa reluctantly moves her butt into the front passenger's chair whereas Johnny plopped himself in front of the steering wheel.

"Give him the keys, Nessa," ordered Caleb. 

Grumbling under her breath, Nessa tosses the keys over to Johnny, who caught them without looking. 

After that, he took control of the silver-gray Toyota by slamming his foot against the gas pedal.