I'm standing in the hallway now, near my mother's door, holding『Rosegold』by her shoulders. “Alright, I can't have you around for this, please.”

She tilts her floaty little head and responds with two words. "Why not?" She sounds almost whiney.

"Well…that's because…" I pause to think about it. "Because I don't want you scaring her." I settle, nodding to myself. Yes, yes that's the right answer. "No offense but you're not exactly the cuddliest looking thing in the world."

Her sharp toothed smile becomes a frown. Somehow, it's like she can tell that I am lying. "Why are you so afraid of her, JoJo?"

…

Memories of arguments between my mother and I come crawling up my spine. "Why can't I have this?" The childhood version of me calls out to her, a blurry rendition of my mother a few years in the past.

"Because, JoJo." She says, sternly. "That's a doll toy. Dolls are for girls. And you're not a girl. If your father was here, what do you think he would say?"

I would later press her on this subject that very same day. And the very next day I went to school with a ripe bruise on my cheek and a memory that will never fade.

Dolls are for girls, and do not back-talk your mother.

…

"It's uh…. It's complicated." I tell my stand, waving my hand dismissively.

Her frown in my mind stays, but the rest of her disappears from my sight. "thank you…" I whisper in a weak voice before walking the rest of the way down the hallway.

“Hey mom?” I call out, knocking on my mothers door once I've reached it. I hadn’t noticed, but at some point it was opened, now sitting slightly ajar. When I touch it, the door opens just a crack more. It reveals my mom sitting on the side of her bed, holding something in her hands. “ Oh, ma?” I call out again, opening the door a little further.

She doesn’t respond, seemingly just not hearing me.

“Hey?” I call out once again. “I’m coming in.” I say, making my way inside and walking to the side of the bed, behind where she’s sitting. When I come around to see her, I see that her eyes are open, but unfocused. She's mumbling something to herself and staring at an old photograph of Dad. Her hand covers his half of the frame.

“Mom.” I say one final time before I reach out to touch her shoulder. Just before I make contact with her, she jolts up and spins around all wide eyed at me.

“JoJo!” She says, startled, clearly broken out of her daze. “I didn’t hear you come in, you startled me!” Her hand goes fluttering to her chest for a moment as she calms her breathing.

“Ahh sorry about that, I tried calling but…. Hey, do you mind if I go to the park?” I ask, getting right to the point for her.

“Oh… Um… No. Just try to be back before ten, if you will. I have the rest of the weekend off, so I'll be making dinner tonight and I want you home for it.” She says, shaking her head a little, seemingly dispelling whatever daze she was in. A moment later she puts the photograph into a nearby drawer, shutting it right after.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” I say back to her, turning around but staying by her side a moment more. A little war starts going on in my head over whether or not I breach the topic I've been thinking about all day since last night. I realize I'm just gonna simmer on it endlessly unless I try. I need to know more about Dad's death. I never knew it was something suspicious.

I turn back around. But now my mother is facing me, words clearly on her lips. "Hey, JoJo?" She asks, leaning forward and taking my little right hand to pull me down. I sit on the edge of the bed with her and she pulls me into a hug. I'm a little bit stunned out of what I was trying to say next. "I want to say I'm sorry." She begins, and I immediately feel weird about it. "I yelled at you a lot last night." She continues after a moment. "And I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. It was a long day for me over at the station, and I really let the stress of the day overwhelm me. I snapped at you a bunch and it was really unnecessary. Your professor had me on the phone and I was honestly just at my wits end and I took it out on you a little. It wasn't cool of me. I'm sorry. I really love you, and a mother shouldn't yell at her child like that." She's so apologetic with me. The more she talks the more emotional she gets. Her eyes start sparkling as though they might break into tears at any moment, but she blinks them away with efficiency.

She's overwhelming me with her apology. Prostrating herself in a fear of losing my positive image of her. If I still had any lingering feelings of upsetness after what happened that day, I surely wasn't allowed to keep feeling them now.

And then she goes on. "I've been thinking about your father a lot lately. And what he would think of us if he was still around to see." She lets go of me before putting me out at arms length. "I think he would be proud of us. I think he would be proud of you for the young man you're blossoming into….. but" oh no. "You really need to get a better handle on that temper of yours. The professor was really upset about what you said, and I'm honestly surprised you had it in you to go that far." She rolls her eyes, thinking. "I wish your father was here today to help me teach you how to control yourself better. A temper like that is a man's trait to have, and I just don't know whether or not I have the right tools in me to help you with it." She shrugs, frowning at me.

And then she goes silent, just like that. But I'm honestly at a bit of a loss as to what to respond with. I absolutely was not expecting a random emotional dump. I wasn't prepared. "I'm um. I'm sorry?" My first instinct is to be apologetic.

She shakes her head. "There's no need to be sorry. I made sure to take care of things with Mister Donneham after breakfast this morning. He says he's willing to accept an apology, so long as you're willing to give him one." She says as she smiles at me, all motherly like.

"I'll uh… I'll be sure to give him one." I say and nod my head, partially retreating into myself mentally. I don’t like being told I have a man's traits, and the rest of her words seem to end up just washing over me as she goes on and on. Telling me things about expectations and how I have such great potential if I don't squander it. And something about how she wants me to pray more. Talking to god is always a good way to get my head out of the gutters. But really, I can't find it in me to pay attention anymore.

Because I realize that she always gets soft like this very shortly before she explodes. A big wall of apology and love always happens just before a storm, and with how hectic the last days have been, I don't know if I'll entirely be ready for it.

Snap! "Hey, are you even listening to me?" My mother's frustrated voice penetrates my mental barriers, snapping me out of my daze with a flick of her fingers. "Really? What's wrong with you today? I'm trying to be nice here and you really can't even find it in you to pay attention? Geez. Way to make a mother feel appreciated." She snides, turning away from me. My heart jolts in my chest and I reach my hand out for her shoulder. She jerks away from me when I make contact, too upset for the touch.

"I- I'm sorry!" I almost plead. Please don't get mad at me! "I just- I was-" I fumble with my words like crazy. But I forcefully steady myself and swallow.

"Mom, how exactly did Dad die again?"

She turns and faces me. The anger drains from her face instantly. It's replaced with confusion. One emotional point to another with no in between. "It was… he died of leukemia, remember honey? He…he got so sick, and spent a few weeks away from us in the hospital before passing. We didn't get to see him because the doctors said he was contagious." She explains. I've heard her say this one before. But the real question is whether or not I press her on this lie.

'Do it.' I hear a little voice whisper next to my ear.

"But mother…. Leukemia isn't contagious." I say this and she goes pale.

"I- well, yes. You're right. But, uh… the doctors thought it might have been something else at the time before they… before they figured it out." She states, clearing the subject immediately and pressing forward towards me. "Why are you even asking me about this, anyway? I thought you said you didn't like this subject that much, anyway. Is there something on your mind lately that you're not telling me?"

I pause.

Yes mom, because last night I watched a petrified human fall from the sky before watching you from the bushes as you drop a bomb of information I was never expecting. My father might have been murdered. Murdered by a stand user. Which is the very thing I have recently become. And now there's some kind of creepy ghosty thing following me around all the time and I honestly don't even know what she really is! I don't know what the hell a stand is anyway!

My stomach curdles and I can almost imperceptibly feel my skin turn to porcelain beneath my clothes.

"No, no mom, there's not." I state, resolutely. If she can lie to me I can lie to her too. It makes me sick but I feel excited while doing it, like I could get away with anything.

"You know you can tell me anything, JoJo. I'm your mother, you can trust me. I love you." She reaches out and puts her hand on my shoulder, but I jerk myself away and stand up.

"I have to use the bathroom!" I quickly say as I dart out the door of her bedroom, rush down the hallway, and clamber into the bathroom just in time to make it to the toilet before I throw up.

…

…

…

It takes me a good minute to wash the taste of bile out of my mouth in the bathroom sink. I always hate it when this happens! I get anxious over something so quickly and I guess my body just can't keep up with it. And I get sick. It's annoying, it's so annoying.

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The water is cold when it splashes over my face, the feeling of the cool liquid grounds me. I feel it, and I let the feeling hold me in place, refusing to let myself sink back into the reaches of my own head.

Deep breaths, JoJo. In. Out. In. Ouaahh!!!!

There's a floating skull just above my shoulder in the mirror when I look up, with arms that form into the air and gently wrap around my neck. A smooth gray head presses her cheek to mine and I swallow my fear in an instant. "R-rosegold!" My voice breaks. I should be used to her randomly showing up already, damnit! Don't be afraid. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you think it's a little ironic?" Rosegold asks me, pulling her cheek away from mine and turning to look at me with an eyeless face in the mirror. "She says a strong temper is a man's trait. But have you ever met anyone angrier than her?"

I gulp. "I… I haven't."

Rosegold's mouth droops open slowly, the line on her face growing bigger and bigger until a long sleek tongue comes rolling out. She drags it slowly up my cheek, the point of her tongue nearly breaking my skin when it slides across. Her tongue is dry and cold, though I'm sure it should be wet.

I just stare at her dumbfoundedly in the mirror, her arms tighten around my neck and I nearly lean into the contact. It's tight and it's the closest thing I've gotten to a hug from someone other than my mom in probably five years.

"What are you, Rosegold? How do you know these things about me?" I ask the thing in the mirror. I won't waste this opportunity.

"I don't really know," she says, turning her face to look at me and smiling soooo wide. "All I have in my head are your memories." She taps a finger to my cheek, slowly slipping the tip of it inside the corner of my mouth, her long hand wrapping around my face slowly. "And my instincts" she finishes, bringing up the other hand to start the same procedure. Soon enough she's pulling my mouth apart, showing my teeth to myself in my mirror as her own smile grows big enough to show the rows of hers. “It's impossible to tell where you end and I begin.”

The corners of my mouth are pulled into a crude smile. And her fingers are tasteless.

"You should try smiling more, User." She says, leaning in and whispering in my ear. "You look much prettier that way."

Her fingers start to fizzle away into sparkling nothingness, the touches on my cheeks disappearing as she falls apart into the air, gone from the bathroom and leaving me alone once again. I shudder, the phantom feeling of touch is still raw in my mind.

"Shouldn't you know why I don't?" I ask myself in the mirror, my own hands still on my face to make myself smile. "Boys aren't allowed to be pretty."

I say it like I'd ever have some chance at that, anyway. My sunken eyes in the mirror make me incredibly ugly.

…

Knock knock knock. "You've been in there quite a while, JoJo." I hear my mother's voice from behind the locked door. She can't get me in here while it's locked. "I'll… I'll let you have your alone time for now, but you can't stay in there forever. It's already getting late and I don't want you out past ten." She says into the silent wood door before I hear her turn on her feet and walk away.

I feel so far beyond replying to her right now that I press my entire ear to the door just to listen for the lock on her bedroom to click shut all the way on the other side of the house.

I feel like gravity loosens up on me the moment it does.

I sigh, leaning back against the bathroom sink. The edge of the table digs a little bit into the skin on my back. "Rosegold." I say and raise my hands. The ghostly visage of a doll with sharp teeth comes flowing from my hands, materializing outside of me with her palms in mine. I hold them.

She tilts her head at me as if to ask 'yes?'

"Go look." I say and motion towards the door. Rosegold beams at me. It's creepy. But I think she's just excited to finally do something useful for once. Though i’m not entirely sure how I know that.

My stand pulls back into me and I step towards the bathroom door. I place my palms flat and I feel the whooshing feeling of her pulling herself out of my body like a second skin, perfectly intact. Her materialization finishes only when she's on the other side. Tangibility going from translucent hologram to solid doll right where I want her. This gives me ideas for later.

"There is no one here." She says from the other side of the door. I breathe out slowly and unlock it. I open it to find her floating, arms dangling down out in front of her limply like a ragdoll caught with a fishing line somewhere in her torso. She bobs silently in the air.

"Good." I tell her and nod. "Let's go now." And she agrees.

…

On our way towards the door, I remember to grab my phone off its charger. I won't forget this time!

But the feeling of a hand, nearly like my very own hand, places itself on my shoulder and pulls me back through the threshold of the doorway before I can even make it one step outside.

I would fear who it is, but I know that it is my doll. And I refuse to continue being afraid of my own dolly.

"Wait." She instructs, and I do. Turning around slowly to see her almost break the sound barrier in speed as she launches all the way across the house into the kitchen and back in an instant. All but completely silent, save for a slight rustling of some papers on the kitchen table. She has something in her hands, crinkled up. "Here." She says and puts out her hand.

I put out my own, confused, and she drops a few crumpled dollar bills into my hand. "For you." She says, allowing her form to melt back into mine.

I know that she stole this from my mother's purse on the table. But I can't seem to find it in me to care as I turn and make the rest of my way out the door.

'Good Doll.' I praise her in my head, and I can almost imagine her smile.

…

…

I push open the front door to meet the mid morning air. And it feels just a little chilly, which is good for hoodies. And that's exactly what I wear! All… All the time. Hoodies and sweatpants. Every day of almost every week.

What? Guy clothes are lame and unstylistic, so why not comfymax instead?

Plus it keeps me warm.

The door clicks locked behind me, and I breach past the stone front step to my house. Stepping out into the wet grass, cold little blades of damp green lick at my ankles, and my shoes sink a little bit into the mud with every step. But all while walking across the muddy yard, a little fiendish ghost comes tumbling out into the air along with me, avoiding all the coldness the ground has to offer.

“Oh no no you don’t!” I call for her, reaching out and grabbing her by the ankle. She’s pulled to me effortlessly, as she is completely weightless. What, is she hollow in there or something? “You can’t just go flying around like that!”

"What? Why not?" She asks me, almost whining. "This is the first time I've ever felt sunlight, you know!"

That has me paused for a moment. "Wait, really?" I ask before quickly shaking my head to dismiss the thought. "Hey, don't get me off topic. What if someone sees you? I'm really not interested in causing the next big commotion if someone spots a floating…. Whatever you are."

"But they won't!" She says, frowning. "Haven't you seen how fast I am? I'll stay out of sight, you can trust me!"

"Yes I've… I've seen how fast you are. But that doesn't take away from the fact that you're at least five feet tall and full of sharp teeth! You can be as fast as you want but the first person to see you's gonna scream." I tell her, letting go of her like a balloon and crossing my arms.

But instead of floating away, she just crosses hers too, always mimicking my pose, but for reasons all her own. "Fine. But I'm getting really tired of having to be put away all the time. I want to do something fun soon. You can't keep me locked up forever."

"Trust me, I really don't want to keep you like that either. I want to see what you're capable of, but we just can't do that here." I say, putting my arms out towards her. "You'll get your time to shine, I promise. Why don't we head to the park? That should give you enough room to fly around, provided that there aren't many people around."

Rosegold watches me, tilting her head up and down just slightly as though she's looking me over. "You better not be lying to me." She intones before reluctantly putting her arms out too and falling into me.

"Oh, I would never do that." I say to no one in particular.

…

…

Together, or alone, really, I make it to the park in short order. I headed straight there in the daylight without missing a single turn. It takes me like barely fifteen minutes. Much less time than it took for me last night when I was walking circles around my own head. But unfortunately I come to see that the place is totally crowded. There's at least thirty people in total all standing around chatting or walking their dogs or jogging or- well it's safe to say it's gonna be a busy day here at the park. There's even a little ice cream stand placed up on a little grassy hill towards the front end of the park's entrance. I might have to go back to that later, but right now, I pretty much abandon all my plans and jump ship.

Grumbling frustratedly to myself, I mutter a curse word under my breath and stuff my hands into my pockets. Resolving instead to find somewhere else to go for now.

I hate it when there are crowds. There's just too many people looking at me to feel comfortable. To many angles they could watch from. It makes me feel paranoid or anxious. I hope Rosegold will forgive me, but I'm gonna go get a coffee first instead.

Maybe by the time I get back there'll be less people around.

In either case, I turn heel to go somewhere else instead. Down the chilled concrete sidewalk towards the closest coffee shop that I know by heart. It's only a few streets away anyways. No more than another ten minute walk. My impatient stand should be able to handle herself until then.

I wonder what she's doing when I can't see her.

My idle thoughts wander as I make my way towards the shop, happy to use the twenty dollar bill I got on something nice and sweet. I think I deserve a little treat, maybe?

Yet, as I'm on my way there, on the other side of the street across the road, I see a fairly old man with two signs. One professes his claim that the revelations are coming, and that now's the right time to get with God in your heart, and the other tells a much sadder story. That he's a poor old blind veteran with a damaged leg, that he can't walk properly and needs any help that he can get.

These are usually conflicting things, aren't they? I haven't met a beggar with a religious complex before. It's probably good if I steer clear of this guy, I've never really had the best experiences with religion, even after my mom fell out of it in the last few years.

But… I don't know. Something about him just draws my eyes. A bit of a magnetic pull. But not in the way that I'm attracted to him…no it's something else. Something deeper in my chest. Almost a fear, which turns to allure. There's something wrong with him, but I don't really want to know it.

So I stay on the other side of the street without crossing until much further. As I go by, his head seems to track me. Like he can see me, but his eyes aren't exactly on me. They're just at me. Pointed more at something just behind me than on top of me. How strange.

Nonetheless, a corner cut and he's out of sight. The aura I was feeling has vanished, and I'm coming upon the coffee shop real soon.

But it's just then that a hand grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me into a dark alleyway between houses.

"You said you would take me to the park!" My doll shouts at me the moment we're out of earshot from the street. She's looking really pissed this time. Uh oh.

I throw my hands up defensively. "I'm sorry! There were just too many people around! I was only gonna get some coffee before I go back, honest!"

"You said you'd take me right there! You promised!" She whines, her patterned voice breaking into something resembling a cry. I can tell she's sad and frustrated with me. I can almost feel it too. Somewhere from inside of me.

"I know I know, and I'm sorry. I just… it's scary, alright? There were too many people around! You don't know what it feels like!" I try to reason with her but it falls on deaf ears. No one seems to understand my anxieties. Not even my own mother ever did.

"No!" She points angrily at me. "You're the one who doesn't understand what it feels like! I have to be locked away inside of you, looking out at this wonderful world always through your eyes! I want eyes of my own, I want to do things! I want excitement!!" She says, pushing past me and floating towards the street. "I want to steal more things. It feels good to get away with it." She describes, and there's a jump in my heart when I know exactly what she means.

I pause and watch her get closer to the edge, just before where anyone could see her. She points out off at something in the distance. "Like from him."

I lean forward to see a little better and notice that it's the blind man from earlier, hobbling down the roadside with his cup of money in his hand.

I shake my head. "No, no you can't steal from him." I say and pull her back towards the darkness.

She whines. "Oh yeah? Why not! We just stole from your mother and it was fine!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "That was-. it's different, okay?"

"How different." She asks, turning towards me.

"He's blind. He's disabled. He's… he's a veteran for Christ sakes. He doesn't deserve bad things happening to him." I explain, working my hands in the air for emphasis.

"How come you think you know what he does and does not deserve? He could be a very bad man for all you know!"

"It doesn't matter if he's a bad man or not!" I almost yell at her. She backs away silently in the air. "There are just some things you don't do, okay? You have to have a semblance of morality in this world or else you're only ever gonna be a bad person!"

"What happens?" She asks, pressing forward again towards me and putting her hand out to point accusatory. "What happens if you know you're not supposed to do something and you still do it anyway?"

"I- I don't…" my voice breaks. "I don't know…"

"Oh but you do." Rosegold slithers towards me, slowly, silently. "You know the answer to this question better than anyone else in the world. You're the most familiar with the consequences of your actions. What happens?"

Pinpricks poke at my eyeballs and my emotions jump from zero to sixty in an instant. "You drive everyone away from you. Every important person in your life. Every single friendship, until you're left with nothing. You'll hurt them, and then they all leave you." A hole opens up beneath my heart in my chest. And it just keeps getting bigger and bigger until-

"You sure seem to have a lot more experience with that than any real friendships. Looks to me like you burn everyone around you until they are gone. How come you think you know what's right from wrong?" She reaches out towards me and places her hands on my shoulders. They start to sink into my body through my clothes and my flesh and my heart. The hole starts filling up. My anxiety starts to vanish as it's swallowed away by the cotton feeling of a hug from the inside out.

"And it's a very very good thing you have me~" My Rosegold says to me, her final parting words before she disappears from my sight but not my mind. "Because I'll never ever leave you alone again." A crooked smile, and then nothing.

A chill runs down my spine as I swallow the lump in my throat. Cold and dry. It's the feeling of a realization.

That she's right.

She's right. I pretend like I know what I'm talking about, knowing right from wrong. But she's right. I have no one because I deserve no one. I wouldn't be in the place I'm in now if it weren't for that fact.

And I feel it, somewhere deep down and squirming in my chest. Am… am I just evil?

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have any spare change?" A voice calls out from behind me and I nearly jump straight through my skin.

I zip around to find that the blind man from earlier is here, standing at the edge of the alleyway and watching me. Holy shit, did he see any of that? How did he know I'm here? Did he follow us??

Wait, what did he say?

"Miss?" The guy intones again, looking all around me with these pure white eyes. I can't even see his pupils.

Okay who am I kidding, this guy definitely can't see at all. Who does he think he's calling miss anyway!

"Uh uh- uh yeah, here." I reach my hands into my pockets and pull out the few crumpled dollar bills I have. "Take these." I reach out and drop them into his hat. There! An evil person wouldn't donate to the poor, now would they?

But instead of looking happy for the money, the guy's smile just turned into a frown the moment he heard my voice. Something feels wrong about him now. Like he's angry with me and I don't even know why. But he doesn't say anything more as I quickly turn heel and walk away. I'm going to do my best to avoid this awkward confrontation, and I'm really not interested in learning more about what his second picket sign displays.

Not really my cup of coffee.

(End Of Chapter Three)

←To Be Continued.