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though it was mine. I didn't voice any of those thoughts aloud though. Theo hadn't made any sense last night, but one thing he had been was a little scary, would he hurt Sonya if she knew too much about what he was?
    "Theo Peters is a jerk," I announced suddenly, a knee jerk reaction to my fear for Sonya's life.
    "Well he did act a little bizarrely, but maybe you just freaked him out, that's all," Sonya offered.
    Oh, he'd been freaked out. The kind of freak out that said you-threaten-my-world-order.
    But then, he had said he still wanted to protect me in my driveway last night. Maybe the freak out was a little worried-for-my-wellbeing too.
    Confusion, thy name is Casey Eden.
    The conversation took a more 'normal' turn then, much to my relief. And before we knew it, the shop doors were open and customers began to arrive.
    The day progressed as any normal Friday did. No surprises, if you count the fact that Theo didn't turn up for his afternoon snack a foregone conclusion, everything followed its set path. As I locked up the store and stowed my keys in my jeans pocket, I almost believed it was all a dream. Almost. The plants whispering warnings of taking extra care as I passed them on the walk home made the veracity of the dream idea fail.
    I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. Everything was surreal. Everything was so wrong. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders as I placed my key in the lock of my apartment door. Sonya wanted to go out on the town and take my mind off unnatural goings-on, but I just couldn't face it. It was impossible to pretend everything was normal. I just couldn't fake it anymore.
    The only thought in my head as I let myself into my flat, was curling up on the couch, surrounded by my pot plants, and eating a tub of chocolate ice cream. It sounded like a solid plan.
    One step inside my door and I knew my plans were shot.
    The lounge room was destroyed. Cushions slashed and stuffing strewn all over the place, the couch tipped over, the TV shattered and in pieces on the floor. Letters and papers from my writing desk in the corner were haphazardly thrown about the floor, some scrunched up, some torn, most of it beyond repair. The kitchen looked about as bad as the rest of the place, glasses broken and shattered in piles on the linoleum, drawers pulled out and tipped upside down, spilling contents all over the floor.
    But none of that mattered. Not a single vandalised piece of my possessions mattered. Because every plant in the house had been yanked from their pot and stomped upon. Shredded leaves and snapped branches, trodden into piles of soil on the carpet. The flat was destroyed, but replaceable. The plants were gone for good.
    A sound so pained I didn't realise I'd made it slipped from my lips. Of all the things a burglar could do, harming my plants cut the deepest. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out this wasn't an ordinary home invasion. Smeared across the cream walls in mud was a message.
    Leave the city, Gi and you might live.
    Stunned, I stared at the words for longer than reasonable. Was this written by the man who said he wanted to protect me?
    No. I didn't accept that. Theo could have killed me last night, but even the thought of taking my head had left him reeling. In agony, distraught, devastated. Had it only been an act?
    I wanted to believe Theo hadn't done this. Part of me said there was no way Theo could have done this. But I was so confused, so lost, so out of my depth here. Not only was I doing strange, unnatural, inexplicable things. Not only was I changing in ways that made absolutely no sense at all; green eyes, soothing plants, a connection I had never noticed between them and me. But I was also fighting to understand Theo.
    To understand this.
    Had Theo done this? Destroyed my flat, my possessions? My plants?
    If not him, who else? His Guard?
    Fear skittered along my spine and left icy pinpricks in its place.
    I was panting through the disbelief and