"Are we there yet?"

Seth sighed softly and glanced over at his daughter, who was lieing back in the passenger seat beside him as he cruised slowly along the barely illuminated highway. The sleek, and expensive black sports car was barely visible in the dark, moonless night as it made its way towards its destination at an even pace. The driver, Seth, turned his gaze from the road only long enough to eye his impatient daughter.

"Not quite, hon. I told you the drive would be several hours. But don't worry…once we get there we'll have a whole new life. You'll be attending a new school, with new friends, and I'll buy you an ice cream cone when we get into town, alright? Sound good?" She really likes ice cream, he knew that. The thought brought up a memory that seemed so distant. His wife, Clarissa and himself, sitting around his baby daughter as she tasted ice cream for the first time. He remember how his wife laughed when Faith's eyes just lit up in happiness as she first tasted the sweet vanilla. Oh, god how he missed her.

He cleared his throat to hide his sadness, and quickly wiped a blood tear from his eye. There was no way he could let his daughter see that. He turned his blue-eyed gaze back to the road before him, and then quickly turned the music on the radio up a bit louder. It was playing some old band from the nineties called "Powerman 5000". He had never heard of them, but he liked the primal throb of the bass as the singer screamed out some statement about worlds colliding. It helped drown out the happy, yet horrifically sad memories.

"Your going to keep writing, aren't you dad?"

He glanced briefly over at his daughter, whom he now realised was watching him intently with those large green eyes of hers. He nodded slowly and turned back to the road, not being able to look her in the eye.

"Yes, I am. You know its what keeps us eating."

"Dad…come on. We both know we have enough money to live lavishly for years." She rolled her eyes a bit and glanced down at the book in her lap. It was one of her father's, actually. She was one of his biggest fans.

"Well, that may be true. Alright. I just like to write, I'm sorry. And I will continue to write until I die." He smiled a bit at that. That would most likely be a very, very long time from now. He glanced over at his daughter again, but found her eyes closed, and her head down. By the soft sound of her breath, he knew she was asleep. He smiled softly at that, and turned back to the ever on-going road. She had had a long day, and he had had a long night.

But no more. Onward, to a new and better life, in Manchester.