Ange rushed to Vanity's side when he noticed from the corner of his eye that Vanity looked faint. "Vanity!" He called, but she hit the ground before he could reach her. He was thankful the carpet was soft. Ange didn't notice or care if his father did anything. Ange just picked Vanity up, bridal style and began to walk her out the room, all the while hearing his father call,

"Tu es horrible!"

His father's voice faded farther and farther off into the distance. Ange felt as though he were moving in slow motion as he walked down the stairs, back the way he came. He'd certainly done it now. Well, he and Vanity, anyway. They would certainly be on the run from everyone. Ange would probably go to jail, Vanity, back to the hospital. It was over for them now, their lives were probably over.

The more Ange thought about it, the faster his feet began to move. Until he found he was sprinting out of the house and into the streets. His heart began to race and suddenly it was as if he could hear the screams of his mother coming from every open window on the block for miles. He continued to run with Vanity in his hands, eyes darting from place to place, hearing his mother's cries, seeing her face in every shadow. It felt like there was no escape. Nothing more he could do. He had his mother murdered and his father was mourning.

He had nothing more to live for. He ran into the shadows of foliage and dropped Vanity behind a bush. Ange leaned against a tree to catch his breath. The whole thing was not planned through and he didn't think about what he would do now that it was over. Beads of sweat formed on his temples and he began to panic.