You don't belong here.

I'm not sure how to classify this. I had received a call from one of the priests at the church. He found out that I am Dante's brother through the rumor mill. He asked me, I mind you this is strange even for me, that I would assist him in an exorcism. Why ask me?

I had just settled a date with Cindy and if I have to call her to cancel because of this messy business, I may not hear the end of it. We have planned this date for nearly a week and I was looking forward to it.

Pegasus had helped me with some much needed shopping for clothes and I was actually looking forward to wearing my new long coat, vest and ascot.

Work had to be done so I had confirmed that I would be there.

Of course Cindy wasn't too thrilled with it but she agreed to pick me up at the cathedral once the task was completed. The only other reason she agreed to it was the pay. Apparently, some demon was feasting on children's dreams that rendered them mindless and they would later die.

Being a father myself, I couldn't allow this to continue. Children dying creates a problem that irritates me. The demon was easy enough to subdue. Thankfully, it didn't consume enough dreams to grow any more than it had.

The date went fine, though there was the chance I had misstep. She took great care to correct me. I think she enjoys it. I allow her to.

Out of curiosity, I had checked my account. Technically, there was no body to find and no death certificate was released, the bank held on to the sizable trust fund that I had before I had faced Dante through my foster parents. It had 14 years to grow.

Upon my relief, and my surprise, the 400,000 I had in there grew substantially over the years at a 3% interest rate standard. It left me a grand total of over 2 million. It was only supposed to mature over the course of ten years to pay for college and related expenses. The bank seemed happy to hear from me. I had to make the trip to prove my identity before they could discuss anything further. Much to the financial officer's surprise, I hadn't aged a day in my supposed 32 years of life. I told him that I keep to a strict diet and left it at that. It wasn't a lie. Just not the entire truth.

Since the bank was out of town, Cindy had to drive me. She was as shocked as I was only she showed it more than I did. I was able to pay her back for her kindness and she wouldn't have any of it.

We went dancing that night in the club in Blakerton. I stayed away from drinking. It does terrible things to me and I don't have the tolerance that I used to. I did have one rum and coke, which was good, but a bit strong. It was in Cindy's nature to talk to people and some had gotten the wrong idea about her. I had to step in to change their minds. I said no words, I simply walked over and kissed her then after the kiss, I shot them a glare. Needless to say, they didn't stick around. She was a bit upset at me for doing that, but I saw no reason to speak to drunks when my words would have fallen on deaf ears.

Neither of us were prepared for the trip back. Her tire had blown out and I had no idea how to change it. We had to call a truck to help us. It's just one more thing to add to my list of things to learn. I'm banned from Cindy's kitchen for the same reason.

Significant strides have been made on my emotional control. Since the second day, I have begun to monitor myself. It may seem soon, but there is no way that I am allowing anyone to analyze me. As someone once stated, I needed therapy. Sanity is only subjective to the person that views the world by standards. I will never fit their standards and therefore would be deemed unacceptable and committed. As if I would allow that.

Which begs the question; what is sanity?

Today, I managed to find a cello from a woman that was throwing it out after he husband had left her for another woman. I talked her into giving it to me. She willingly did so without question. Such instruments are hard to come by in our line of work.

While I could play Dante's bass, I wasn't in the mood to touch any of his instruments. They were his and I am only the guest. While he may be my brother, there are boundaries that we must maintain. He wouldn't care. I wanted something of my own and this cello would establish myself once more.

There is something to be said about the melancholy tone of elegance and grace that I find relaxing. While I do enjoy the same music as my brother, I can't stand playing it on an instrument. I find myself losing control too quickly. The energy required wears on my patience.

Sometimes I wish that I never had to deal with these imbalances. Even my martial skill isn't enough to satisfy.