Lila woke up at about 6 am. Well, she was up pretty much all night, since she had be experimenting with crystal meth. It was like the stuff the doctor gave her, but better and quicker. She figured she wouldn't have to sleep much. She had way too much to do. Too many things to figure out in her life.

The only problem was that she had run out of her stash at about 4 am. She decided to take a couple of Adderall to keep her up, then she would meet her dealer, A.S.A.F.P.

She got into the shower and scrubbed herself until she felt as clean as possible. She had this terrible feeling that she could feel bacteria crawling on her. She could feel parasites in her blood stream. It was awful. She should be a clean girl. She was, after all, Lila Webster... of the Webster county Websters. She had no idea this fact meant nothing to anyone outside of northwest Louisianna. Her family had cultivated that county, and their delusions, for over 5 generations. Lila's mother had died during childbirth and her father, Reverend John C. Webster, had remarried to a very close friend of her mother's. Lila always hated her father. She never remembers not hating her good-for-nothing old man.

She got out of the shower, red and raw. She then blew dry her hair and applied too much makeup. She was ready to go. She was getting anxious and she was hearing music in her head. She needed to drive and sing. By the time she was ready to go it was 8:45 am. Her dealer had agreed to meet her at the A and P on the interstate by the trusty camp. It was half way. Her dealer also liked to tease her that she would be headed to prison, for good, one day. She always shrugged him off. "I am a Webster," She would say, and give no more explanation.

Her daddy always said she was crazy. What did he know, she thought. She talked to herself, a lot. She had whole conversations with herself, God and her good-for-nothing daddy, whenever she got into her car. Passersby just thought she was singing. Although, anybody who knew her knew she was crazy.

She had just finished a particularly scathing diatribe on her father as she pulled her silver Accord into the parking lot of the A and P. She had called him a false prophet. The thought of telling her father off made her smile. She had a smile on her face as she entered the store. She was singing a happy tune. She was going to get more. More meth. More of the greatest substance on earth, next to money. She had plenty of money, so she could have plenty of meth. She imagined having all the crystal in the world and that made her smile even more.

She entered the store and saw her dealer, Steve, standing in the back near the cooler. She made the exchange quickly and bought a Yoohoo and a pack of cigarettes. She was on top of the world as she left the convenient store. "Very convenient" she said aloud. She had not locked the doors of her car, since no one around here would dare steal from a Webster.

She slid into the driver's seat, only to find a timid looking escaped convict in the passenger's seat. He was holding what looked like a sharpened spoon in his left hand. It was rattling like a baby's rattle. She wanted to laugh, almost, but she was annoyed that whatever was about to happen was going to keep her from her fix.

She started the car and prepared to drive. He was jabbering on, "Just drive!" She wanted to slap him for not having a better plan. She never left the house without a plan. He was an idiot and he deserved what ever bad things happened to him.

She started to devise a plan. He was too scared. He was not dangerous.

He was going to be very useful to her today. He was going to be her very own "get out of jail free card"... Maybe, even her personal assassin. Oh, God, the possibilities. Maniacal thoughts filled her mind.

She needed a fix. After her fix, she would hone her plan.

This was going to be a good day for Lila Webster, of the Webster county Websters.