Chapter 13 by Fathiah Zarafi

Time seemed to tick by slowly as my impending doom approaches. There was no way I could escape now; I was on the second floor. Even if I jumped down the window, my ankle would buckle under the pressure and I would lose my walking ability completely. Their voices grew louder as Mary Anne and Tristan entered the house, not yet noticing the gaping attic door. I gazed around the room frenziedly as my fight-or-flight instinct took over my body. With flight out of the way, I did the only thing I was able to. I hid in the closet.

The sense of déjà vu hit me instantly. Flashes of the faithful night of my family's deaths stumbled into my mind as I recalled being in the exact same position. Only this time, Father was long gone and unable to protect me. I bit my lip anxiously when footsteps began ascending the stairs. A startled gasp followed shortly after.

"Mom, Adele's gone!" Tristan shouted. I heard her rushing up the stairs before screaming in anger and frustration.

"I can't believe this!" she shrieked, "How can little brat escape again? Did you tie her like I told you to?"

"Of course I did, Mom, I'm not stupid," he replied hotly.

"Well don't just stand there, find her!" Mary Anne barked. The house soon grew quiet as doors slammed and engines rumbled to life.

I didn't know whether to remain where I was hidden or try my luck at yet another escape attempt. I closed my eyes and inhaled a few deep breaths in order to remain clam and regain the strength I needed to overcome this. The images of my family flashed behind my eyelids, along with Chayton's. I knew I had to fight for them and for all the hardships they had been through, especially Father. My fingers gripped the saw tightly in my hand as I slowly pushed the door of the closet open.

My heart couldn't possibly beat any faster as I ran towards the front door. My hand palmed the knob but a thought made me halt all actions. If I escape through the front yard, I could stumble into Mary Anne or Tristan coming home. So I resolved to divert my route and sprinted to the back door. I was already in the backyard after prying the door open but I suddenly found myself face to face with none other than Tristan.

We both froze as we gaped at each other in shock. I was the first one to snap out of the stupor and rushed back inside. My heart thundered wildly as I raced to the front door. I felt the cool metal of the knob in my hands but I was yanked backed forcefully by my hair.

"Let me go!" I screamed in pain as I tried to escape Tristan's clutches.

"You are getting on our nerves!" he growled, dragging me back. The roots of my hair felt as if they were going to separate from my scalp when his grip on my hair tightened. I slashed my saw blindly at him and he cried out when the blades cut through the skin of his arm. Tristan's clutch on my hair automatically loosened and I ducked away from him instantly.

"Get back here!" roared Tristan.

My breaths were coming in heavy pants as I threw the door open and stumbled out. I had just reached the green lawn when my neck was suddenly restricted and tugged backwards. I clawed at the piece of cloth wrapped around my neck, gasping for air. In the process, I accidentally dropped the saw on the grass when I reacted on instinct. The heels of my shoe couldn't catch a grip on the wet grass and I was pulled back to the house. Tristan slammed the door behind us with his foot before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"Do that again and I swear to God I will kill you with this cloth," he threatened. I struggled to breathe as the cloth squeezed my airway.

"You—won't kill me," I choked out. Truthfully, he wouldn't. Not without Mary Anne's permission. His face scrunched up in anger as he struggled with himself. The cloth around my neck tightened further and I could see black spots dancing across my vision. I opened my mouth to inhale whatever air I could possibly take in but nothing came out except for chocked gasps. Tristan finally loosened the cloth and I collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. Each inhalation of air burned my deprived lungs. My vision tunneled for a few seconds before finally reverting to normal.

From my position on the floor, I noticed the rug Tristan was standing on. Thinking quickly, I pulled it from underneath his feet, causing him to lose his balance. Tristan came crashing down onto the floor while I leaped to my feet again. Once again I found myself running towards the back door since Tristan was blocking the front exit. I heard the front door opening followed by a startled choke from Mary Anne. My feet pushed faster as I desperately reached for the door.

A loud blast filled the room. I screamed and fell to the floor, clutching at my calf. Crimson blood was oozing out of a wound, staining my jeans and the ground below. Raising my head, I saw Mary Anne standing by Tristan with a gun pointed at me. Her gun slowly emitted smoke. She had shot my leg.

"You have been such a naughty girl, Alyson," she sneered in a sickenly sweet voice. I tried getting up to my feet again but the pain that shoot up my leg caused me fall once more, gritting my teeth in order to contain the impending scream.

"Save your breath, sweetheart," laughed Mary Anne. "You're not going anywhere with a crippled leg."

I kept hushed as she roused Tristan who had lost consciousness briefly when he hit his head against the coat rack.

"Tristan, wake up dear," she lightly smacked his cheeks. Tristan woke up with a grunt, rubbing at the back of his head. As soon as his eyes met mine, he sent a deathly glare at me. His jaw even ticked in anger.

"Can you carry that nuisance over there to her room? I shot her leg so she won't be able to walk anymore."

Tristan smirked darkly upon hearing his mother's words. "Gladly."

He advanced towards me and before I could protest, he had thrown over his shoulders. "Get your slimy hands off me!" I protested but to no avail. My poundings and kicking did nothing to him. Instead, he slung an arm around my legs to halt their movements.

Tristan kicked the door to my room open and threw my down on the floor. Stars burst into my vision when my head connected against the hard wood. I couldn't suppress the moan of pain that escaped through my lips.

"That's what you get for knocking me down," Tristan said nonchalantly. I leaned on my elbows and glowered at him.

"Where did your spine go, Tristan?" I mocked. "Are you even aware of all the secrets your precious mother has been hiding from you? Do you even know who you are?"

"Shut up," he spat, clenching his fists tightly.

"Do you know that we're related?" I paused, gawking at his reaction. Tristan's eyes widened momentarily before he quickly masked it. "Yeah, your father is my father. I wonder why Mary Anne never told you this."

"Shut the hell up," Tristan warned venomously through clenched teeth. I knew I was getting to his nerves so I egged him on further.

"Do you know that Mary Anne had an affair with my father? She even begged him to leave my mother. Talk about desperate, huh?"

"Shut up!" he roared, charging at me. I braced for the impact of his body clashing against mine, but nothing came except for the shouts of Mary Anne.

"Tristan, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Tristan regained his senses and panted heavily to control his rage. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned to Mary Anne.

"She was telling lies about you, mom!" said Tristan. Mary Anne's lips drew in a thin line as she ignored her son. Tristan looked at her in shock.

"Mom, tell me it isn't true," he gasped out.

"Oh go guard the door!" Mary Anne barked in response. Tristan looked as if he was about to defy his mother's order but after a few short breaths, he tore the door open and trudged down the stairs.

Mary Anne turned her attention to me. She had her gun clenched in her palm, the muzzle thankfully pointed to the floor. My gaze followed her as she moved to the desk and threw a thick bundle of papers on it.

"You see that? That is the paper work where you will sign your agreement to transfer all your inheritance to Tristan," Mary Anne explained. She stalked towards me and pulled me to a standing position. I groaned loudly when the pain from the gunshot wound resurfaced.

"Sign it," she ordered. I shook my hand free from her clutches and held on the edge of the table for support.

"You're so stupid if you think I'm going to sign that," I laughed.

"You're so stupid if you think you're going to live," she retorted. I heard the unmistakable click of Mary Anne cocking her gun before feeling the sensation of cool metal pressing against my temple.

"If you kill me, you won't get a single cent of my money," I stated calmly. "Even if you do pull that trigger and cover up the cause of my death, you'll go in and out of court, trials after trials before you have the chance to get your grubby hands on my father's property."

Mary Anne's face twisted in anger. I saw her raising the gun above her head before bringing it down directly on my face. A whole new level of pain spread over my cheek as I plummeted to the floor. I tasted the familiar metallic taste of blood that ran down my mouth. Mary Anne elevated her hand once more to strike and I closed my eyes to prepare for the assault.

"Freeze!"

My eyes snapped open immediately. Mary Anne's hand froze in mid air as she slowly turned around. I knew that voice but my mind was tired and slow after the attacks.

"I said freeze! Put your hands in the air! Drop your weapon to the ground, now!"

The gun flopped onto the floor with a hard thud as she did what she was instructed to. I glanced around her to witness the salvation to my misery. James had his gun pointed at Mary Anne, clad in a full suit. He slowly approached Mary Anne and kicked the revolver away from her reach. His eyes finally landed on mine and saw the state that I was in.

"Do no move!" warned James once more before crouching down to inspect me.

"Are you okay?" he questioned concernedly. "Are you seriously hurt anywhere?" Before I could answer, Mary Anne suddenly roared and ran towards James. Caught of guard, he was thrown back when she tackled him. The force of the impact caused James to be thrown out of the window next to him. Glass rained all over me as I stared in horror to what I had just witnessed.

"James!" I screamed, "No!" I scooted over to the broken window, ignoring the glass that penetrated through my clothes and scraping my skin.

"Do not even think about it." Once again I felt the cool metal, this time pressing against the back of my head. "If I go down, I'm taking you with me."

Tears were falling down my cheeks shamelessly, stinging the open wound that was left earlier. My eyes closed on their own accord as I anticipated the pull of the trigger that would ultimately end my life. True to the old folk's tale, my life did flash before my eyes. Father, Lucy and Sarah appeared behind closed eyes. Chayton's sunny smile and warm personality made its way into my mind's eye too. What saddened me the most was the fact that I will never get to experience life with Chayton.

Please don't forget me.

The trigger was pulled.

I tumbled to the ground, crying out in pain that had stretched across my left shoulder and down my arm. I buried my face on the floor, sobbing out in pain as it washed over the whole of my body. My left arm was weak and I could feel blood trickling down the length of it, pooling on the floor.

"Adele, run!"

My head snapped up upon hearing that voice. With much struggle, I swiveled my neck around to witness Chayton holding Mary Anne down. He looked at me in desperation, pinning down her hands with much difficulty considering her size was much bigger than his.

"Go, Adele! Run!" he demanded.

I used the desk as a lever and struggled to my feet. With only one arm, it took me a huge amount of effort to pull myself up. It was a much greater effort to maintain my balance. I swayed on my feet a couple of times before I caught myself on the wall. I witnessed with wide eyes when Mary Anne pushed Chayton away and reached for her gun. Her movements were as fast as lightning; I suddenly found my roles reversing with Chayton. He was kneeling on the floor and had a gun pressed against his head. Mary Anne's face was furious and crazed.

"You know what would be better? Me blowing off the head of this boy," she laughed maniacally. I averted my eyes to Chayton; he was mouthing words at me. I frowned as I tried to process them. Swat. Five. Minutes. The SWAT team was coming in five minutes. Gazing at the gun digging into Chayton's temple, I knew I had to distract Mary Anne somehow. I refused to have anyone dying in my arms again, not anymore.

"Wait, Mary Anne," I called out, "Before you do anything, think about why you're doing this."

"Why?" she guffawed, "I despise you. Let me rephrase that; I despise the blood running in you. I had suffered so much because of your dimwitted father. There is nothing I enjoy more than killing his spawn."

"No, you don't. You loved my father and still do. You're just still bitter about the fact that he broke your heart and build a family with another woman."

"Stop talking like you know me!" shrieked Mary Anne. She shoved the muzzle harder against Chayton. He winced at the pressure but the bravery on his face never wavered.

"I don't but your letters have told me enough," I said carefully. "If you loved my father like you claimed you do, why didn’t you wait for him? Why did you accept Ronald's proposal in the first place? You broke his heart too."

I could see the tears glistening in her eyes though she fought to keep it at bay. "I was forced into it. It wasn't my choice! Your father shouldn't have walked away that night; he shouldn't have left me to rot in this dump!"

My ears picked up noises downstairs. Mary Anne was too overwhelmed to notice and I decided to pressed further. I gulped loudly before continuing.

"He loves you too but you need to understand. My father accepted the fact that—" I paused mid sentence when I noticed a tiny red laser on her chest, "that you two weren't meant to be. Now it's time for you to understand it too."

"I've understood completely," she cried histerically, "I carried his bastard child for nine month! I even betrayed Ronald for him! Isn't that enough to love me?"

Mary Anne cocked the gun and secured her finger around the trigger. Chayton's eyes widened and I lurched forward to stop her. "No, Mary Anne, please—"

My protest died on my lips when Mary Anne suddenly lowered her gun. My gaze followed hers when she dropped her eyes to her chest. Blood slowly trickled down her chest, seeping into her pink blouse. Mary Anne gazed at the flowing crimson in disbelief before collapsing on the ground. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her quivering form. Her frantic eyes met mine and I could see the regret and sadness in them. For the first time, I felt pity towards the woman. I was brought out of my thoughts when Chayton wrapped his arms around me gently, careful to avoid my wounded shoulder.

"Come on, Adele. Let's get out of here," he spoke softly, steering us away. "The police will clean up the mess."

I was still in shock as I limped around Mary Anne's whimpering self. Chayton supported most of my weight when he slung my good arm around his shoulder and took tiny steps to avoid injuring me further.

"I'm so glad you're okay," murmured Chayton, pressing his lips to my hairline. I could only offer him back a weak smile. True to his words, a group of SWAT members rushed up the stairs and into the room. They adorned ski masks, body armors and had shot guns perched on their shoulders. I silently wondered where they had been ten minutes ago or I would have been free out this misery.

My mind was so blurry from the loss of blood that I didn't register the angry shouts of the police. Suddenly all the pain of the bullets Mary Anne fired at me diminished, only to be replaced by another set of agonizing pain. I could no longer hold myself up; I slumped to the floor abruptly. The pain slowly extended from my back to the rest of my body. I was too weak to even cry out. I vaguely heard Chayton's frantic calls of my name and his face was a blurry mess in my vision. My eyes focused on the river of crimson surrounding me before everything faded to black.

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Chapter 12 by Fathiah Zarafi

Mary Anne had delivered a plate of bread and butter during the day. As much as I refused to take in food coming from her, I knew I had to replenish my energy. I may need it a lot to escape tomorrow. The bread seemed normal and harmless as I inspected it under the light. It was a bit awkward trying to eat with your wrists bounded together but at least it was better than having to eat straight off the plate like last time. I didn't expect myself to ravish it like I hadn't eaten in a week but despite the small meal, my stomach still growled in hunger. Once the bread had completely cleared, I pushed the plate away.

Shakily, I got up to my feet and headed for the blocked window. I peeked out through the cracks of the planks into the outside world. Perfect view, I mused to myself, I can see the whole front yard from here. It would make my sneaking out easier. The time must have been around midday; the sun had risen to the middle of the sky. With nothing else to do, I began pacing around in the small space. My walking cast emitted a heavy thump with each step I took. I glared at the white plastic wrapped around my leg; if I weren't careful, it would get in the way of my escape. The cast wasn't exactly made for running.

I settled myself on top of a brown trunk with a heavy sigh. However, I immediately yelped in pain when I felt a prickling sensation on my bottom. I got up, ready to throw away whatever it was but was stopped once I grabbed a hold of it. It was a broken picture frame. Inside was a picture of two beaming couples. I instantly recognized the smile of the young brunette gentleman; it was Father. Clinging to his arm was Mother and she had her head on his shoulder while grinning at the camera. Next to time was a man adorning thick glasses and an outdated mullet cut. He had an arm around a younger and thinner Mary Anne. I frowned at the picture and drew it closer to my eyes; instead of her husband, Mary Anne was staring lovingly at Father.

I gently placed the picture on the floor. Did Mary Anne—had feelings for Father? Everything was just so confusing. Deciding to satisfy my curiosity, I unlocked the trunk and pushed the heavy lid open. A cloud of dust flew into the air, drawing a sneezing fit from me. With watery eyes, I began digging into the trunk. I pushed the stacks of newspapers aside and saw piles of letters hidden underneath it. There were at least twenty of them, all neatly tied in a bundle. I gently pulled on the string to unravel them.

The first one that I held was dated February 23rd, 1990 and addressed to Mary Anne DeHeart. I tugged the letter out and unfolded it.

Dear Mary,

Julia had safely given birth to our daughter yesterday. She is the perfect miniature of her mother, with thick brown curls on her head and big brown eyes. Lucy Rose is the most perfect thing I have ever seen and I've fallen in love all over again. I remembered that you wanted to name our children Lily and Lavender, after your favorite flowers. Our kids would have been the cutest blonde angels and I would fall more in love with you watching you birth our children.

It is such a tragedy that we have to go our separate ways. I never would have imagined being apart from you, love, but we are powerless against our true destiny. Every night I lie awake imagining what my world would be like if you had come along with me to San Diego. I would feel guilty towards Julia afterwards but I couldn't help it. I was torn to pieces when I came home only to find you engaged to Ronald. Perhaps it was selfish of me to think that you would have waited for me during my time away. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep for days. Luckily destiny sent Julia over to mend my broken self. I owe so much to her, Mary. She had sacrificed so much for me.

This is the last time I'll ever write to you, Mary. Please don't get me wrong; I love you with all my heart and no one will ever replace you in my heart but the birth of Lucy had opened my eyes. Our paramour cannot continue, my love, for I need to focus my undivided attention to the little angel sleeping peacefully next to her mother. It is not fair to her nor is it for Julia. It breaks my heart all over again to say goodbye to you but alas, it is inevitable. So here it is, goodbye my Mary. I trust Ronald to care for you as I had done years ago.

Forever and always,
Jon

Silent tears cascaded down my cheeks without my knowledge. Mary Anne was in love with my father and probably still was. I neatly folded the paper and tucked it back inside the envelope. With a heavy sigh, I collapsed in front of the trunk and leaned my back to it. I didn't understand; if Mary Anne was in love with Father, why did she do all those things? Was it a cruel form of revenge for breaking her heart? Oh Dad, I cogitated, everything is so messed up.

With trembling hands, I reached for another letter. This time it was dated 24th of December, 1992 and it was addressed to Father. The letter was unopened and undelivered. I tore the envelope open and pulled out the paper hidden inside.


Dear Jon,

I know that you have told me to stop writing to you but I have to express my feelings to you, for I have no one else that would understand. That bittersweet night we shared together will continue haunting my memories forever. When you fell asleep after our lovemaking, I lie awake to memorize your beautiful face. You haven't aged a day, sweetheart. It breaks my heart knowing that awful Julia was considering divorcing you. Although I refuse to admit it, a part of me jumped in joy upon hearing the news. Perhaps with you free from that wench's grasp, we could finally have our happy ending.

The real reason I'm writing this letter Jon, is to tell you the truth. When we went out drinking, you were the only one who did such. I didn't even finish that one glass you bought for me. When we made love, you were drunk but I remained sober. We left out protection, or dare I say it, I was the one who had purposely forgotten it. Please don't be mad, Jon. There was this voice in my head telling me that if I did the exact, you will come back to me. I'm pregnant, Jon, with your child and I couldn't be happier. Ronald thinks it is his but I couldn't break the news to him yet.

Please come back to me, sweetheart. We can raise this baby together, just like we've always dreamed of. Julia wouldn't stay angry for long; she knows how much we love each other. Please, Jon. I am nothing without you. If you are worried about Lucy, I can raise her as my own too. Anything to be by your side again. Please say yes.

With all my heart,
Mary Anne

I threw the letters back inside the trunk, furious at what I have read. Mary Anne did this to herself; she took advantage of Father's vulnerable state and—seduced him. Has she no dignity? I shuffled back to the piano bench and slumped tiredly on it. My body felt exhausted and drained, either from the lack of eating or all the confusing information I had just absorbed. Before I knew it, I had drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

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When I woke up, my vision was teemed with darkness. The sun had already set, leaving me blinded in the dark. I threw my hands in front of me to avoid bumping into stuffs as I made my way to the light source but since they were tied together, I ended up bruising my unprotected shin repeatedly. My fingers finally found the metal string and my shin cried out in relief. With a soft pull, light shun through the room.

I decided to begin my hunt for weapons for tomorrow's break out. My first search was in a big box next to the trunk. Nothing was in it except for ratty clothes. The search lasted for hours as I rummaged around the attic. Almost all of the things in here were Tristan's childhood stuff and Mary Anne's old clothes. With a frustrated huff, I pushed away a chest filled with baby toys. My hopes were beginning to fade until I peeled open the flaps of yet another box. I grinned with joy upon seeing heaps of old gardening tools kept in it.

I pulled out a folding saw and traced the blade with my fingers. It was a little blunt but still sharp enough to cut through things. The next agenda I had to fulfill was to remove the cast on my foot. My foot hasn't healed completely yet but I couldn't risk it getting in the way of my escape. I removed the plastic walking cast to reveal the plaster underneath. Using the folding saw, I cut a slit down the cast. Once my foot was free, I ripped a section of Mary Anne's old clothes and wrapped it around my ankle to support it. To test out whether my ankle was strong enough, I strode along the attic. I was a little wobbly and small pain would travel up occasionally but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

I tucked the folding saw into my back pocket and walked to a mannequin I saw earlier. Mary Anne's wedding gown was displayed proudly on it. I tilted the mannequin to test its weight; it was heavy enough for me to drag across the room. With my plan and tools all set up, I once again took refuge on the old piano bench. I needed to accumulate my energy for tomorrow.

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I woke up the next morning with my spirits ablaze. Rushing to the window, I saw Tristan preparing to leave to school. My mind briefly wondered if anybody at school noticed my absence. It was then that I truly missed Chayton and how he lit up my day. I sat down on the floor and patiently waited for the time to pass by. Morning turned to day and day turned to evening. I was roused out of my fitful slumber by the sound of a car engine. I hastily ran to the window and peered out. Mary Anne was backing her car up from the driveway. I smiled to myself. Perfect.

I waited for a few more minutes before acting out my plan. I used the folding saw to cut through the ropes around my wrists before dragging the mannequin to the attic door and placing it right on top. With all the strength I could muster, I began pounding on the door with the heavy mannequin. My arms burned from the weight and repeating movements but I pushed it all to the back of my mind. The sound of metal clashing against wood thundered loudly in the room. It took me a while but the wood door finally gave away and broke under the weight of the mannequin. I sighed in relief as I threw the doll down. I flexed my arms a few times before peeking down the gaping hole.

It was quite a drop down, I noted. I was worried for my ankle, seeing how it was still healing. The folding stairs was fragile and nearly broken in half. It looked like it could come apart with little weight but I decided to take my chances with it rather than jumping to the second floor. The stairs shook and creaked as I went down it step by step. A surprised scream tore from my throat when one step broke under my foot. I grabbed on to the sides for dear life as I readjusted my weight. I resumed my descent slowly and steadily until I reached the bottom without any scratch.

I walked down the hall and stopped by my room to fetch a shoe. What I saw caught me by surprise. All of my belongings were neatly packed into my suitcase and placed on top of the bed. I didn't wait to unravel whatever Mary Anne's schemes this time. Throwing on a shoe for my once casted foot, I proceeded to the door.

I immediately froze when I heard noises coming from outside of the house. The sound of a car door slamming and Tristan's voice drifted in the air and reached my ears. Soon enough, Mary Anne's own voice joined, followed by the sound of the front door opening. My heart thundered wildly inside my ribcage; I was trapped.

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Chapter 11

Shivers swept through my body. The frigidness of the floor seeped through my clothing as I lay helplessly against it. I stared vacantly at the spider webs on the ceiling as I reflect on everything that had happen. Gone were the feelings of aghast and sadness that once overwhelmed me. All I felt now was nothing; a numbness of emotions that washed over me. Perhaps it was the result of being held captive for God knows how long inside the dark basement or maybe because I haven't eaten anything except for a few nibble on a toast. I didn't feel like ingesting anything coming from Mary Anne.

I turned to my side, facing the stairs. My cheek absorbed the cold thus relieving the pain of the purple bruise that had formed by Mary Anne's fist. The lack of energy combined with the freezing atmosphere was slowly causing me loose my grip on what was real and what was not. Whenever I accidentally fall asleep, I would wake up calling for Father. It was not until a few seconds later that I fully realized the graveness of my situation.

My eyelids blinked sluggishly as they struggled to remain open. I couldn't feel much of my fingers but I had no doubt that they had turned blue. Exhaustion took over me and I decided to raise a white flag and stop the raging battle going on between conscious and unconsciousness. Just as I was beginning to succumb to sleep, I was startled awake by a voice. My eyes trailed upwards only to widen at the sight before me. Lo and behold standing in front of me was Father. I beamed at him, thrilled to see him mirroring my smile.

"I knew this was all a dream," I slurred. Father got down on bended knees and traced a finger on my frozen cheek.

"Fight it, sweetheart. Don't let it bring you down."

I frowned at his words. "What are you talking about? Please take me home, daddy. I don't like it here."

Father leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on my forehead. I instantly felt a surge of happiness rushing inside of me. "I have fought for you, Aly, and now it is time you fight for us. I trust you."

My frown deepened, thoroughly confused by his actions. He slowly got up to his feet while his eyes never left mine. I tried to raise myself but I found my body not cooperating. Father started walking away, rendering me in a state of panic.

"Dad, where are you going? Please don't leave me!" I screamed. Father smiled sadly at me, his figure getting smaller and smaller.

"I love you, Aly. I know you can do this. Make me proud."

"Don't go! Daddy, please! Please," I sobbed to the ground as he completely vanished.

A startled gasp escaped my lips as my eyes snapped open. I studied my surroundings for any sign of another person's presence. There wasn't; I was still alone in the dark basement. It was then I realized I had been hallucinating but Father's sudden existence seemed so real. I could still feel his touch on my cheek and his kiss on my forehead.

"Dad, help me," I begged helplessly to the air. His words flashed through my mind in an endless loop. It is time you fight for us. He was right. I would die from hypothermia if I don't do anything about it and I refuse to grant Mary Anne her twisted wish.

With my spirits flared, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. First things first, I had to get out of these ropes. It was difficult trying to find anything sharp but I scooted around on the floor until I managed to grab hold of a broken piece of glass. I nicked my fingers in the process as I couldn't stop the trembling but the pain was welcomed. The pain chased away the numbness that took over me.

I nearly cried in relief when the ropes bounding my wrists gave away. My wrists were raw and red when I brought it to the front. I used the same glass to cut the ropes on my ankles. Blood dripped from my hands when I gripped the sharp glass tightly in my palms. I couldn't feel the pain though as the adrenaline rushing through me blinded it. When the rope snapped from my ankles, I tucked the glass into my back pocket in case I needed it.

I tiptoed up the stairs, careful to avoid the creaking boards. My twisted ankle protested in pain but I had to brave through it. Upon reaching the top, I pressed my ear against the door to listen for any movement outside. When I heard none, I tried twisting the knob. The door opened with a soft click, quite surprising me. Maybe Mary Anne didn't expect me to escape with my limbs bounded.

The sudden gush of warm air sent shivers down my spine. The house was equally as dark as the basement except for the dim light coming from the stairs. I reached for the glass piece behind me as weapon before proceeding down the hall stealthily. I was almost to the front door when I heard rustles of clothes behind me. I instantly dove behind the coat hanger. The heavy coats and jackets draping over it would hopefully hide me. Tristan trudged downstairs clad in nothing but boxers. He went straight to the kitchen, stuffing his face in the refrigerator.

I got out from behind the coats and took the moment of distraction to quietly pry the door open. My body had just slipped past the door when my shoulder was grabbed. I screamed, shoving the glass piece in the direction of my attacker.

"Woah, Adele, settle down!" Tristan gasped out, throwing his hands up to avoid the glass. I breathed hard, still pointing the glass at him. He took a step backwards as a sign of surrender.

"I mean no harm," he whispered. I lowered my hand at his tone. Tristan actually looked sincere and in my hazy mind, I believed him. I learned the hard way that looks can be deceiving. Not even a second later after I had put my guard down, Tristan came charging at me. He grabbed my arm and twisted it around, causing me to drop the glass in a mixture of pain and shock.

"Do not try to escape," whispered Tristan into my ear. I whimpered at the force of his grip on my arm. He pulled me inside and shut the door silently. Right before the door to my salvation closes; I swore I saw Chayton staring straight at us. I brushed it off as another hallucination I was going through.

"What the hell are you doing?" I spat out when Tristan began dragging me upstairs.

"Shut up," he retorted. My walking cast served as a good drag as I dug the hell of my foot into the floor and tried to wrench free from his grasp. Tristan grew tired of my struggling so he decided to sling me over his shoulder and climbed up the stairs.

"Put me down you imbecile!" I screamed but to no avail. I tried to kick him with my cast but before I could, I felt a pair of hands stilling my legs.

"Good thing you caught her, honey," resounded the voice of Mary Anne, "We have to lock her somewhere else."

Tristan shuffled around before climbing up on another set of stairs I didn't knew existed. When we reached the top, I was thrown down haphazardly onto the hard floor. My surroundings were dark but it smelled dusty and old. A soft click echoed in the room and my eyes were blinded by a sudden light. My retinas felt like burning as I have gotten used to the dark basement. I shielded my eyes against the light to catch a glimpse of Mary Anne.

"You are smarter than I thought," she sneered, "We will not have tonight's incident repeating, now will we?"

"Fuck you," I hissed. Mary Anne's smile vanished instantly as she handed a new set of rope to Tristan.

"Tie her hands tightly. I do not want to see this mishap repeating." Tristan nodded his confirmation at his mother's orders. Mary Anne smirked one last time at me before disappearing down the floor. I was left confused momentarily but one glance around the room told me I was in the attic. Tristan twisted my arms behind my back roughly before circling my wrists with the thick rope. I hissed lowly when he pulled them strongly against my skin.

"Why are you doing this, Tristan?" I whispered, "Your mother is a sick, twisted person."

"She's my mother," he answered simply.

"That's it?" I asked, amazed at his nonchalance, "You're going to abet in a murder just because your mother told you to? I thought you had a spine."

I grunted out loud when my face was forcefully yanked by Tristan's hand. He leaned down to me so our faces were nearly touching. "You don't know what we have been through," he spoke through gritted teeth, "We lived in poverty and by the streets like stray dogs."

"What about what my family has been through, huh?" I eked out with his hand clamped around my jaw, "My nine year old sister was raped and left for dead naked on the floor of her bedroom. I held her in my arms as she die."

Tristan's composure faltered a bit and his grip around my face slackened. He averted his eyes briefly before springing up to his feet. His mouth bobbed open and close a couple of times like a fish out of water but no sound was emitted. Tristan drew in a sharp breath before turning his back to me.

"Do not try to escape again," he warned as he climbed down.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I replied sarcastically, glaring at his tuff of blonde hair that was disappearing and the flap to the attic was drawn shut.

I lay on the hard floor hopelessly. My mind began reeling with methods of escaping but it was too blurry to come up with a brilliant one. Perhaps I needed some shut eye considering I slept just a few winks. I surveyed around, trying to find anywhere decent enough to rejuvenate myself. I saw an old piano bench a few feet away from me. My knees were wobbly when I pushed myself up to my feet. Collapsing on the dusty bench, I curled into a fetal position and let my mind drift into a blissful sleep.

Angry voices were the first thing my mind registered as I was slowly dragged away from sleep. Slivers of light entered the room through the cracks of planks nailed to the window. I swung my legs over the bench and perched on it, trying to blink away the cobweb of sleep from my brain. Enraged shouts and yells drifted into the room as my mind finally cleared up. I hastily crawled to the floor and flattened myself against it, hoping to catch the commotion. The conversation was awfully muffled and all I could hear were bits of words thrown harshly around. There were my name, two days, missing and jerk. I immediately knew that voice anywhere. It was Chayton, arguing with Tristan. So I wasn't hallucinating when I thought I saw him last night. My mouth opened, ready to scream for him but I halted when I realized the consequences. Chayton can never outstand two against one. Especially with Mary Anne's slick moves. He would get killed instantly, just like I would. I decided it wasn't worth to risk Chayton's life. I leaned back against the legs of the piano bench and thought of Father. It was the only thing keeping me from buckling under the pressure.

Although I only slept fitfully, my mind was fresh and reeling for an escape plan. If Chayton was correct, I had been held captive for two days which made today Thursday. Mary Anne will have her book club meeting before dinner and Tristan will come home after dinner because of his football practice. Tomorrow was my perfect and perhaps the only chance for me to bolt. I inhaled deeply and prepared myself for the inevitable. Come whatever may, nothing was going to break Alyson Fischer.

Labels: Protected

Chapter 10 by Fathiah Zarafi

It was a couple of hours after Chayton had left, with a pledge to not tell a soul of what I confessed, that James arrived at my room. I was freshly on morphine and nearly dozed off when he knocked on the door. Seeing his concerned face immediately woke me up as I struggled to sit straight. James came to my aid by pressing a certain button on a remote he reached next to my bed. My bed hummed to life and the mattress slowly raised itself.

"Comfortable?" James asked. I nodded as an answer and he placed the remote back where it belonged.

He then proceeded to settle on the plastic chair where Chayton previously sat. James opened his mouth, presumably to ask my well being but I cut him off quickly.

"What happened to—those men?" I lowered my voice even though nobody was near us. I didn’t want to take any chances. James's eyes narrowed, causing his face to look absolutely deadly.

"They have escaped as soon as I got there. Sneaky bastards," he hissed through gritted teeth, "don't worry; the CIA is locating them as we speak."

"Thank you though, for finding me and getting me here," I offered wearily. My thoughts were suddenly consumed by what if's; what if James didn't get there on time? What would've they done to me? A shudder ran down my spine at the image. My eyes averted downwards, only to find James' fists balled up on his lap.

"Don't thank me," his voice contorted painfully, "I barely got there in time. I swore to your father you wouldn't get harmed."

I was aghast momentarily when Father was mentioned. So he had contacted James before meeting his end to ensure our safety. It was a shame how my sisters became a victim of this horrendous mess. The name Ronald DeHeart suddenly revoked in my mind once more and I remembered that it was still unexplained.

"James, you still haven't told me about," I paused, gazing around me before continuing, "Ronald DeHeart."

James' lips tightened in a small line as he stared hard at me. "I can't."

I groaned loudly, throwing my head back in exasperation. My fists mimicked his actions earlier, clutching the white sheets in my fists.

"You have to, James, regardless of whatever your reasons are," I growled lowly, "Don't forget that I am the victim here, being chased around like a piece of meat!"

At first James looked as if he was going to retort against me but after a few deep breaths, he slunk back in his chair and appeared almost deflated. I felt a little smug at breaking down his resolves. I leaned forward and anticipated for his explanation.

"Not today, Adele. I will tell you when we're not somewhere public."

Once again, I grunted out my frustrations. "Now I know how Chayton must've felt," I mumbled under my breath. Unfortunately, James' highly trained ears caught snippets of my words.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," I lied quickly. James eyed me skeptically for a few seconds before slowly getting up to his feet. He stretched, causing a few pops and snaps to resound. It made me wonder about his age, although I knew he was younger than Father.

"I'll see you when you're out of the hospital, kid," he patted my head gently. I waved at him weakly as he shut the door behind him with a soft click. My hand hunted for the remote James had used to manipulate my bed so I could recline normally. Once I was finally comfortable and the pillow all fluffed up, sleep only took seconds to claim me.

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The faces of the men kept spiraling in my dream, taunting me with their evil smirks and foul breaths. I was grateful when I suddenly woke up, the nightmares chased away. However, I studied my surroundings briefly for the reason I woke up, disoriented from the sleep.

Once my brain was finally free of the cobwebs of sleep, I heard the persistent knocking on the door. The small ray of light that leaked from the curtains told me it was already morning, probably nearing noon. The knock grew louder and I quickly gathered myself.

"Come in," I croaked out hoarsely.

I was surprised to see Mary Anne at the doorway with Tristan trailing behind her. My eyes immediately caught sight of the colorful bouquet of flowers in his hand which rather shocked me.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Mary Anne spoke gently. I cleared my throat noisily, pushing my torso off the bed slightly.

"A little sore but otherwise, fine," I answered nonchalantly. Tristan placed the flowers on the side table, arranging it to the perfect spot. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was allergic to all kinds of flowers so I scooted away from it as inconspicuously as possible instead.

"That's good to hear because we're taking you home," Mary Anne smiled. My jaw dropped open in shock. Was she being serious? I was just ran over by a car; it would take me more than two days to be warded at the hospital.

"Um, but why?" I asked uncomfortably, "I thought I had to stay for another couple of days."

Mary Anne began picking at the flowers, rearranging the wild colors and plucking out the wilted ones while Tristan rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"I'm sorry, dear," she spoke silently, "but we just don't have that much money to keep you in this fancy place." I swore I saw her eyes darkened when she said that but I brushed it away. However, I was also confused. James, or at least the CIA, could pay for the hospital bill, couldn't they? My pondering was cut short when a nurse suddenly came in with a pair of crutches and a stack of papers. Tristan grabbed the crutches and hurried over to my side.

"You can get ready while I sign your release papers, okay?"

I wanted to argue against her instant decision but Mary Anne had scuttle over to the nurse. Huffing out my anger, I threw the blanket off of me and reached for the crutches in Tristan's hands. As I was getting up, I felt cool air brushing against my back, my bare back and I was instantly aware of my lack of clothing. My left hand pulled the hospital gown closed at the back while the other searched for my old clothing in the table drawer. Tristan coughed discreetly and I halted my movements.

"Here's uh, your clothes from home. Mom said your old ones were bloodied and torn from the accident," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Tristan helped me to the bathroom to change. It wasn't such an easy task when you only have one functioning leg. He was waiting for me at the outside and handed me my crutches when I exited the bathroom. Mary Anne was done signing the papers by now and we walked, hobbled on my part, to Tristan's truck.

As usual, I was squashed between Mary Anne and Tristan during the long drive home. I clutched the bag of my belongings, silently praying that we would arrive home early. My broken ankle was throbbing with every bump on the road and I needed the painkiller immediately.

My agony was mercifully ended as the familiar sound of crunching gravel reached my ears. Tristan helped me out of the truck as I tried balancing on the uneven ground. My worst nightmare appeared in the form of stairs. It took me ten whole minutes to reach the second floor and I was sweating like a pig by then. I didn't feel like showering with a cast on my leg so I opted to a fresh set of clothing before taking in the painkillers. While waiting for the drowsiness to set in, I made myself comfortable under the covers. Soon enough, my heavy eyelids began to drift close on their own accord.

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I sluggishly blinked the sleep away from my eyes as I slowly rose from the depth of slumber. My room was blanketed by darkness with only a sliver of light entering from underneath the small crack of the door. I searched blindly for my cell phone and was momentarily blinded by the harsh light it emitted. Its small digits flashed 11 p.m. I was startled at the amount of time I had slept; 12 whole hours. Perhaps being chased around in the forest and getting pummeled by a car were more exhausting than I knew. Shoving the phone into the pocket of my hoodie, I staggered downstairs when my stomach rumbled in hunger.

The house was dark except for the soft hallway light. Tristan's room was silent when I walked past it so I assumed everybody had gone to bed. It wasn't such a strange thing for the people here to hit the sacks early; it was a small town with minimal entertainment. I had just entered the kitchen when the contraption buzzed in my pocket. Upon checking it, James' name coruscated on the small screen. I flipped the phone open while walking towards the refrigerator for some food.

"Hello?" I answered, stuffing my face inside the refrigerator.

"Adele, are you in someplace alone right now?"

"Um, yeah I am," I answered distractedly while searching for the leftover casserole. My fingers gripped the wrapped dish and I cheered inwardly.

"Then listen to me carefully," James spoke evenly, "I am about to tell you what you have asked for."

I instantly froze and dropped whatever I was holding before slowly perching on the dining chair. The crutches were placed carefully on the seat next to me. "What is it?"

"Ronald DeHeart was Mary Anne's late husband. He worked with your father at the laboratory, researching for a deadlier explosive used during wars."

"My father made arms?" I questioned, utterly befuddled. All this time I thought he was a normal scientist, working for a hospital.

"Yes, and those arms are supplied to the government," James continued, "They were partners ever since your father graduated college. But one day, your father and Ronald got into a quarrel that ended his life. The new explosive they were working on was triggered and erupted."

"Did—did my father, you know, killed him" I asked in disbelief. My head was spinning with all these information regarding Father's true life. I felt like I was lied to.

"It was the other way around, actually. Ronald tried to—kill your father and in rage, grabbed the inchoate bomb. The bomb was unstable; with only little movements it can be triggered. Thus, it exploded in Ronald's hand, killing him instantly."

"But why would he do that to my father? I thought they were partners?"

James paused for a while before continuing. "We don't know his motives," he stated simply. I was too shocked to emit a reply. What had Father done to make that man so infuriated with him? I remembered the article stating that Mary Anne thought it was a conspiracy.

"Wait, then why was Mary Anne so upset about it?"

"We couldn't tell her, the public, the whole truth. The project your father and Ronald were working on was a confidential secret. Not to mention that if the public knew about the new bombs, a large protest would outbreak."

James words barely registered my mind when my eyes caught a figure moving at the backyard. Frowning, I crept to the window above the sink, careful to hide a good portion of my body away from view. As I got closer, I saw a second figure standing in front, his face directly facing the window but it was too dark to figure out who.

"Hello? Adele? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, engrossed with the scene in front of me, "James, I'll call you back." Without waiting for a reply, I hung up the phone and craned my neck to view the duo further. I could hardly hear pieces of their conversation but judging from the body language, they were having an argument. My curiosity got the best of me as I slowly unlatched the window so the voices would seep through the small crack.

"You have screwed up our plan so many times. How could I ever hire such an idiot?"

My hand automatically flew to my mouth to stifle the gasp of shock when I registered the voice. It was Mary Anne. I leaned further over the sink but was cautious not to make my presence obvious. The lights in the kitchen were still off when I wandered in so I remained hidden in the shadows.

"I told you, the CIA chap caught us before I could kill her!" the man retaliated. His voice sounded familiar but I couldn't remember; it was just at the tip of my tongue. I searched my brain for any memories of him but I was still clueless.

"That's because you and your moronic friend couldn't do it quick enough! I am losing my chances to get rid of Alyson Fischer as time grows. She is getting closer and closer to her uncle. Don't make me kill you too!"

I collapsed to the kitchen floor on my bottom upon hearing it. Mary Anne, she was trying to kill me? But why? Now I recalled how I knew the man; he was the one who chased me in the forest. I felt dizzy, almost lightheaded from the impact of the information. For a second, everything felt surreal. It was as if I was in a disturbing nightmare and soon, I will wake up back in San Diego with my family still alive and this woman nowhere near me. But reality was too harsh to ignore.

My situation worsened when I was suddenly blinded by a bright light. Looking up, I saw none other than Tristan peering down at me in confusion. "Adele, what are you doing in the dark?" he inquired, his voice hoarse from sleep.

I couldn't answer him; Mary Anne had noticed the sudden light and was now rushing back inside. I was frozen in spot with no idea what to do. I knew I should probably be running from her but my brain and legs were as if disconnected. As the sound of the backdoor opening, I was finally snapped out of my stupor. I shot to my feet in haste, masking the expression on my face. Inconspicuously, I pulled the window shut behind me. Grabbing my crutches, I braced for her appearance. Mary Anne's flushed face appeared soon, scrambling to the kitchen. She bore a hardened expression but it quickly faded at the sight of Tristan.

"Tristan, dear, why are you up so late?" she questioned, not yet noticing me. Her stance visibly stiffened when she finally caught sight of me but she masked it with a tight smile.

"Oh Adele, I didn't see you there. I thought you were asleep?"

I feigned a smile while gripping the handles of the crutches tightly in my hand to suppress my anger.

"I was thirsty so I went down for a drink. I'll be off to bed now," I lied quickly. With the crutches settled under my arms, I made my way out of the kitchen with the intention to bolt as soon as Mary Anne went to sleep. Fate however had plans on its own. I was nearly to the stairs when I felt a sharp pain on my head, stars bursting into my vision. I buckled to the hard floor with a grunt of pain. Before I drifted off to unconsciousness by the pain, my ears could make out voices fuzzily.

"Mom, what the hell did you do?!"

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A splash of cold water on my face woke me up instantly. My brain was still murky as I studied the surroundings, wondering what had happened. The faint smell of moss and detergent filled my senses. I tried moving my hands but found it was constricted by a tight rope bounded around my wrists behind my back. My ankles were also restrained in a similar manner. I was wriggling around, trying to get the ropes to loosen when a figure stepped in front of me.

"Don't bother, dear. Those ropes won't come off unless you chop off your hand and feet."

I narrowed my eyes at Mary Anne. She had a small smile on her lips, her blonde hair in a wild mane, resembling a metal patient. I froze when I saw the black gun clutched in her right hand. Her smile widened when she saw where my gaze had wandered to.

"Don't be scared, Alyson. I won't do anything. That is, until my lawyer gives me the legal papers," she smirked. My frowned deepened when my real name slipped past her lips.

"What legal papers? And why are you doing this?" I questioned, desperate to fit the puzzle pieces. Mary Anne slid a chair forward and took a seat, twirling the gun absentmindedly.

"Ah ah, one question at a time," she paused briefly before shrugging, "Oh, what the heck. We'll start from the beginning when your daddy dearest ruined my life."

My nails dug into the skin of my palm when I clenched my hands into fists. I started wondering if she was the one behind the murders of my family. If she was, I would never forgive her till the day she dies a slow, painful death.

"My late husband, Ronnie and I, had a great relationship with your father and mother. We met at college and clicked instantly. They were the best friends we ever had," she smiled distantly.

"You were the one who murdered my family, didn't you," I spat, disgusted at her actions. Mary Anne laughed lightly at me, softly tracing the trigger of the gun. Cold sweat ran down my forehead when I realized she could pull it at any second and my life would be over.

"Oh pish posh, my men did it for me. I would hate to get my hands dirty with a Fischer blood," she sneered, "Anyways; your father hired Ronnie to be his assistant for this new project he was working on. After all the sleepless nights Ronnie spent researching, your bastard of a father killed my husband."

"He didn't!" I yelled, "Ronald tried to kill my father but he accidentally detonated a bomb himself! My father did nothing wrong and it's not fair you to kill me!"

Mary Anne linked her fingers together and leaned her chin on them. Her gun was settled at her foot, just within an arm's reach. "Oh dearie, it is much more complicated than that. You see, I am after your father's money now."

"Are you dense, woman? His money is inheritance only," I laughed but instantly regretted it when her palm smacked my cheek, snapping my head to the left. It was her turn to laugh.

"Oh, honey, sweetie, haven't you figured it out yet?"

I glared at her, spitting the blood in my mouth on to the floor. She leaned forward so our faces were mere inches apart. I wanted to bite her face off.

"Tristan is your half brother," she whispered. My whole body halted in abash at her words. They couldn't possibly?

"My father—you—couldn't possibly," I sputtered out in shock. I was unable to even form a complete sentence. Mary Anne smiled, leaning back on her chair.

"Your father and I went out for a drink. He had a horrible fight with that wench mother of yours. We took shots and one thing lead to another. It was just a one time fling though but mistakes happened."

Tears started crawling down my face shamelessly. I couldn't believe Father had cheated on Mother and with her best friend, nonetheless. My mind started wondering if I really knew my own Father. Everything was just a lie. He shouldn't have done what he did but that doesn't mean Father deserved to be punished by having his life stolen away.

"You didn't have to kill him," I whispered brokenly, "it wasn't his fault alone!" Mary Anne's smile dropped as a sinister look descended upon her features.

"He told my husband about us when I gave birth to his bastard child. Poor Ronnie, he didn't deserve to be betrayed like that. He got into a fight with your father, at the lab of all places and was killed!"

"It was an accident!" I yelled hoarsely, "Get that through your thick head!" Before I knew it, Mary Anne crouched in front of me and grabbed my jaw with her hand. Her nails dug into my cheeks painfully, drawing a whimper from me.

"Ronnie was the only person keeping me standing," she hissed, "I gave up my work at the Central Intelligence Agency to build a family with him."

"You—you worked at the CIA," I gasped in disbelief.
"Of course I do, dear. How do you think I got away with cutting your father up?" she grinned but it vanished as quickly as it came. Her grip on my jaw tightened and I could feel blood trickling down my neck.

"They wouldn't take me back since I have a child now. I was jobless and homeless. Poor Tristan had to endure the cold nights sleeping by the streets, all because of your father's big mouth."

"Well maybe you should get off your lazy ass and find a job!" I spat. From the corner of my eye, I saw her fist racing towards me. It connected against the side of my face grievously. The momentum of her punch caused me to fall haphazardly on my side while my cheekbone throbbed painfully.

"Do not cross me," she rebuked venomously. My teeth grinded against each other in effort of holding in the pain from her assault. Mary Anne knelt in front of my body, clicking her tongue in dismay.

"Don't die just yet, dear. I still need the transfer papers from my lawyer."

"Rot in hell," I eked out with much effort. Mary Anne offered a smile instead before patting my head lightly. She got to her feet and headed out to the door. It was when my eyes followed her movements that I realized she was holding me hostage inside her basement. The moldy stairs creaked with each step she took. Mary Anne paused at the top of the stairs, beaming down at me.

"Well goodnight, dear."

Labels: Protected

Chapter 9 by Fathiah Zarafi

Footsteps echoed in the dark alley way as I waited for Chayton. The hands of time had touched 12 and the soft glow of the full moon illuminated the darkness of the night. My eyes were drawn to the orb like a moth to a flame as I reluctantly recalled witnessing the same vision the night I left for prom. I thought of it as my lucky charm but I was dead wrong. A moving figure caught my eye and my head snapped right. Chayton had just come out of the building through the back door and was now walking slowly towards me with his head bowed. I pivoted my body so to face him perfectly. His boots dragged heavily on the ground, the noise bouncing off the brick walls. Chayton stopped his steps once he was a good foot away from me. Words were lost from me so I hushed and anticipated his next action.

"Look, Adele," he finally spoke up, "everything about you is so—confusing. I really want to help you but I don't think I can anymore."

"What do you mean?" I whispered, honestly puzzled. Chayton lifted his head and beneath the pale moonlight, I could make out an ignited fire in them.

"I have feelings for you, strong feelings and I don't think things will work out they way I want them too if all we have is this thick wall of lies between us."

My stomach plummeted upon hearing his confession. I felt like heaving whatever I had left, repulsed by my own self and actions that had caused Chayton to hate me.

"Please don't give up on me," I croaked out, "You're the only good thing I've known ever since—"

I couldn't say it. Chayton noticed my reluctance and a part of him died down, as if disappointed in me.

"There you go again. Please, Adele, just—don't you trust me?"

"I do!" I nearly shrieked, "You don't understand the position I'm in!" He stepped forward and gently but firmly grabbed my upper arms.

"Then make me understand!"

I tried to. I wanted to scream to the world what I have been through so I wouldn't suffer alone but most of all, I wanted to tell the truth so Chayton wouldn't give up on me. I didn't have the strength to fight the silence. I bowed my head bashfully, unwilling to witness the emotions in Chayton's eyes. I couldn't stop my hearing though as I heard the frustrated sigh escaping from his lips. I dared myself to raise my head but my gaze was met with nothing. Swiveling around, I saw Chayton already walking out of the alley. Shock hit me; was he going to leave me here?

"Come on, I'll send you home," he called over his shoulders. I mimicked his steps and studied his back while we walked to the car. The sadness and guilt threatened to shook my composure but I fought it back with all the strength I could muster. As we got into the car, I tried to catch Chayton's eyes but he drove off as soon as the engine started. I instantly knew that he was upset and I was the cause of it.

The drive home felt longer and stretched on forever. I had my chin resting on my palm, staring at the passing lights. Chayton's reflection on the window would coruscate on and off in synch with the lights and I could make out the tension in his jaw. His eyes would shoot to me once in a while but never fully. For what seemed like the millionth time, I suspired out my discomfort.

He pulled up at my house, the gravels crunching softly beneath us. I wasn't ready to leave yet because I knew that we would change once I step foot out of this car. Chayton seemed to notice my reluctance when he shifted a little on his seat so to face me but still remained hidden in the shadows. I wasn't ready to lose him, not when he was the only thing keeping me from going amok.

"Chayton," I started but he shushed me with a finger pressed to my lips.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is," he eked out. I couldn't control a tear that suddenly escaped from my eye.

With a shaky breath, I threw the door open climbed out, just like he wanted me to. My feet remained rooted on the grass even as Chayton's old car disappeared around the curb. I felt like things were slowly busticating after it started making sense and there was nothing I could do about it. I ignored the yen inside my chest to caterwaul to Chayton so everything would be normal once I wake up in the morning. But who am I to say; nothing is normal anymore, not since that night.

I finally regained control of my legs and started to make my way over the porch. My hand had just palmed the doorknob when I was suddenly hauled back. Déjà vu struck me but I knew this was no Chayton. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream. My feet left the ground when my body was lifted by an arm around my waist. I kicked and flailed but another man grabbed my legs and started dragging me away. They carried me until we entered the thick forest behind the house.

Panic bubbled up inside me as I envisioned what fate lies before me. Flashes of my sisters' naked body sprawled on the floor obnubilated my mind and adrenaline surged through me at the thought of their lives robbed. I wasn't going to let the same thing happen to me. I kicked and squirmed harder until the man's grip on my legs loosened. I took the golden opportunity to land a swift kick on his most sensitive part.

"Son of a bitch!" he screamed, cupping his groin with both hands. With both legs free, I took the other man by surprise when I kicked hard at his shins before throwing my head back until the sickening crunch of his nose smashing against my skull echoed in the forest. I have learned a thing or two since the two months of living hell. Once he released his deathly clutch on my arms, I sprinted away from the groaning duo.

"Catch her, you idiot!" I heard one of them growled out.

I was racing in between trees without any direction. My breath was coming out in harsh pants even as I tried to silence it. I kept tripping often, scraping my palms and knees in the process but the will to live blinded the pain. That is, until my foot got caught in an exposed tree root and I fell in a messy heap on the forest floor. I hastily shoot to my feet but instantly regretted it once pain shot through my ankle. My teeth grinded against each other in order to contain the impending yelp of pain.

The sound of careful footsteps instantly banished any thoughts regarding pain. With nothing left to do, I huddled closer to the tree in hoping that he wouldn't notice me in the darkness. Through the pale moonlight, I could make out black boots carefully stepping around on the forest floor. My hand flew to my mouth to muffle the sobs that threatened to escape.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are, little girly," he sang. I held my breath when he stopped next to where I lay huddled. Once he turned back, I drew a much appreciation air into my lungs.

Still lying on the moth-covered ground, my trembling fingers fetched my phone that was hidden in the pocket of my jacket. Only then did I notice I had a deep gash on my upper arm that scratched right past my jacket but I couldn't care less. I prayed that James would answer the phone quickly for I haven't the slightest clue of where the men were.

"Hello?" sounded the voice of my savior.

"Please, please, please help me," I breathed, "there are men chasing after me." There was a slight ruffling sound in the background while I waited for him to reply.

"Where are you now, Adele?" his voice deadly.

"Somewhere in the woods at the back of my house. They carried me here—"

My words were cut off by a scream that tore from my throat when I was hauled to my feet. I couldn't help the whimper of pain when my weight was put on the injured ankle.

"Don't be scared, girly," he sneered, "I will make this as painless as possible. After we have some fun, that is."

They both snickered; their foul breaths making me gag as it fanned across my face. I could feel blood trailing down my arm from the wound as he squeezed my arms.

"Damn you to hell," I hissed, spitting at their faces in the process. Before I knew it, stars danced in my vision as his palm connected with my cheek. I stumbled to the ground and my tongue tasted blood.

"Better watch your mouth, missy," the one who slapped me taunted, "before I cut off that pretty little tongue of yours."

"You don't scare me," I scoffed, getting up to my feet once more with a support from the tree next to me.

Their sadistic laughs provoked a chill that ran down my spine. Without a second to spare, I started running—half limping—away from them. I knew they could catch me without breaking a sweat; their bodies are twice bigger than mine but I couldn't just back down without a fight.

My ankle screamed in protest with every step I took and tears had flowed down my face. The pain combined with the cold was beginning to crumble my spirit but I held on to the last remaining pieces. The further I ran, the quieter it was in the forest. I thought I had shaken them loose and was about to rest for a while but a gunshot that rang through the silence shook me to my core.

"Come on, missy, you're getting on our nerves here!"

I fastened my steps towards the small coruscate of lights I saw at the edge of the forest. Another shot was fired; this time the bullet penetrated the tree next to me. I began sobbing in desperation to reach the civilization that was at the edge of my fingertips. A few more painful steps and I had reached the shoulder of a road. I snapped my head back, to study if they were still on my tail.
What happened next was played out like a movie and I was watching it from the comfy theater chair. A bright light blinded me, a loud blaring noise deafening my hearing. Before my brain could process the warnings, I felt something hard hit me. I was thrown over it painfully and felt my bones breaking. As my head hit the hard road, I was aware of the throbbing pain and the crimson river that flowed before my eyes. My awareness didn't last long though as the noises of the environment faded into a calming buzz and the pain disappeared from my body. I closed my eyes and imagined our Hawaiian vacation that put a smile on my face.

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Whiteness surrounded my view. I felt peaceful and light, as if I was floating and drifting calmly in the air. There was not a single hurt or bruise on my body and I was happy. I never wanted to leave whatever place I was in but a constant beeping noise interrupted my concentration. I slowly drifted to find the source of the noise but I couldn't see anything; everything was white. I felt like I was lost in the sea of light until my name was called.

Adele. Adele, open your eyes.

Open my eyes?

I pried my eyelids open only to be blinded by the light. The beeping noise was louder than ever and it was coming from somewhere on my right. All of a sudden there was a warm weight settling on my forehead, smoothing away my hair.

"Adele, hey, how are you feeling?"

I waited for my eyes to adjust to the bright light before searching for the familiar voice. My heart skipped a beat when I was greeted with they face of Chayton. I was still confused and disoriented so I shifted my gaze to study the surrounding. The walls surrounding me were white wash and I noticed a heart monitor parked next to where I lay. Only then did I register the smell of antiseptic that burned my nose with each inhalation.

"You're at the hospital," Chayton suddenly spoke, as if reading my mind. Suddenly the memories of the attack rushed through me and my eyes widened with fear.

"How did I get here?" I croaked out. My voice was hoarse like an 80 year old smoker and it throbbed with each word. Chayton leaned forward in his chair and gently rest his elbows on the mattress.

"Somehow you were hit by a car. Mr. Charles was the one who found you and called the ambulance."

Mr. Charles? I recalled calling him in panic but was stopped in the middle when the men grabbed me. The men. Fear shot through me when I remembered the two people who had assaulted me. I needed to know what happened to me; where they still lurking nearby?

"Where's Ja—Mr. Charles?"

"He went home a few minutes ago. You know, he stuck by your bed for all the 24 hours you've been out," he answered.

I softly trailed my fingers upwards and felt the cotton gauze wrapped around my head. Chayton's eyes followed my movements and his face instantly saddened. I was momentarily confused, until flashes of our fight played in my mind.

"What you doing here, Chayton? I thought you didn't want to be anywhere near me anymore," I asked bitterly. Chayton stared at me intensely, making me fidget under his gaze.

"I didn't say that; I told you that I was frustrated with whatever you're hiding from me but I'll always be here when you need me."

I had to look away when the guilt that surged through me. The overwhelming yen to reveal myself once again resided in me as I fought to control it. I made a foolish mistake to study his reaction. When I saw the sadness evident in his features, I felt the last walls I had build crumbling to pieces. I emitted a heavy breath and met his eyes with my terrified ones. I sat up straighter in bed, ignoring the aching of my muscles.

"Chayton, promise me one thing," I breathed, "don't treat me any different after this, please."

"What do you mean?" he frowned. I drew in a shaky breath, closing my eyes to summon the will.

"My name—my real name is Alyson Fischer. My father and two sisters were in my home murdered two months ago. I've been under the Witness Protection Program ever since and—it's been hard for me to cope."

I felt Chayton's warm hand enclosed mine but I refused to raise my head for fear he would see the vulnerability in them.

"I um, I can't forget the way I saw my sisters sprawled naked on the floor of their rooms. My nine year old sister, she was still breathing when I had her on my lap and I held her as she died. My father—um, he fought against the murderers when they went after me. He even smiled at me and told me he loves me."

I couldn't continue as sobs threatened to escape my lips. Suddenly I was enveloped in comforting warmth, which provoked my withheld emotions. I wept silently while Chayton rubbed my back soothingly.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay," he murmured and I let myself believe him.

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Chapter 8 by Fathiah Zarafi

I walked home feeling rather rejuvenated and light. Chayton made such a big impact on me that I couldn't shake off the memories of his voice and touch. A part of me felt bad and pitiful over Aiyana's story, how she may never wake up again due to other people's selfish behavior but another part of me was thankful that her story had opened my eyes towards my harmful behavior. I was wrapped up in reminiscing the moment, the mysterious strip of newspaper I read in the library completely left my mind.

As I stepped inside the house, I saw Mary Anne hunched over the dining table, flicking some papers in front of her. I was curious at first, since Mary Anne was a housewife and the documents she was reading looked more confidential.

"Mary Anne?" I started, "What are you doing?"

At the sound of my voice, Mary Anne jumped from her position and hastily shuffled the documents scattered all over the table.
"Adele, dear," Mary Anne smiled rather tightly, "I didn't hear you coming in. You're home late."

I headed to the kitchen to grab a water bottle while eyeing the yellow files inconspicuously. "I was over at my friend's. What do you have there, Mary Anne?" I asked casually.

She gathered the files in her arms and continued smiling at me which was bordering creepy. "Oh, just some old recipes I was going through," Mary Anne brushed off my question. Before I could ask any further, she scurried up to her room and I heard its lock turning. I couldn’t mask the frown on my face; clearly no recipe, no matter how sacred it is, was kept in a thick yellow document folder. That woman acted so mysterious at times. At that thought, another important thing I had postponed and forgotten ran through my mind. I wanted to do a little research on the newspaper article I came across today.

With that set in mind, I raced up the stairs to reach my room. Just as I arrived at the top floor, I was unexpectedly knocked onto my bottom ungracefully. This was the second time I was in this particular position and seeing it was Tristan who had bumped into me added to my grumpiness. I sprang up to me feet with much difficulty and shot a glare at him. We haven't talked since the incident at the backyard.

"Hey, wait up," Tristan called when I walked past him. I paused at the doorway of my room, eyeing him skeptically. He avoided my gaze and started rubbing his neck, a gesture I had come to know as nervousness.

"What, Tristan? Just spit it out," I snapped. His blue eyes finally met mine although very briefly.

"I'm sorry about the other night," Tristan blurted out quickly, "I was out of line." I couldn't believe my ears; he was apologizing to me? He was sincere, I could tell but I really didn't want to waste anymore time with petty conversations so I just nodded my approval at him before slamming the door shut. I pretended I didn't see the scandalized face Tristan wore.

The purple laptop I brought from home was switched on for the first time in a month. It was a little dusty at first, triggering a sneeze fit from me but it did its job of turning on quickly. I stiffened upon seeing the desktop image that was long forgotten on my laptop. My fingers absentmindedly traced the picture of our last family vacation. My red hair glistened underneath the Hawaiian sun and it blended in perfectly with my peach bikini. Father had on a clichéd floral print shirt that screamed tourist while little Sarah was adorable in her pink one-piece. All four of us had huge grins on our faces; it was the best vacation I had gone to. Little did I know that the rug would be pulled from under my feet in mere days.

The beep from the laptop interrupted my little reminiscing. I shook my head to rid of the memories before focusing back on my task. After connecting to the internet, I typed Ronald DeHeart on Google. Dozens of articles popped up but one in particular caught my attention.

Ronald DeHeart's death: Accident or Conspiracy?

My heart sped up once I clicked on the article. I had to squint my eyes in order to read the rows of words that clashed blindly against its dark background.

Augusta was shocked with the news of the death of its leading scientist, Ronald DeHeart, last week. The media portrayed the tragic death as a horrifying accident which resulted in the explosion of the laboratory. However, kiths of DeHeart were skeptical with the information, stating that the truth was masked behind lies. Mary Anne DeHeart, widow of the late DeHeart spoke to us in hysteric tears.

"Ronald is a brilliant scientist and an observant man. He had never committed a single mistake in the 10 years as a scientist at Fischer and Co. He couldn't have made that experiment explode," said Mary Anne.

"Why is my husband dead while (Jonathan), who was with him that night, was unharmed? Something is not right here."

When asked about her fate as a single mother to an infant son, Mary Anne burst into sobs.

"I am a housewife in a small town; my son is only 3 months old. There is no way for me to find a job. Who's going to support us now?"

Indeed, Ronald DeHeart's death still remains a mystery. Fischer and Co.'s representatives refused to comment on this incident, fueling the flames of our doubts more. Let the flames begin.

I had to re-read the article a few times but my mind refused to comprehend. Did this man die in father's hands? Was it all really a conspiracy or just an honest accident? I couldn't understand why father has never told me about this. I got up to my feet and began pacing the small room; nothing made sense anymore! If only I had someone, just anybody, to tell me the truth for once. As quickly as I thought that, I dove for my phone at the nightstand and dialed Mr. Charles' number. He had given me his cell phone number during my visit to the hospital.

I drummed my finger impatiently on the duvet while waiting for him to pick up. On the fifth dial, I could finally hear Mr. Charles on the other end.

"Mr. Charles?" I started, "This is Adele. Can we meet up?"

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Once the occupants of the house had gone to their respective beds, I quietly snuck out of the house and waited for Mr. Charles at the school's bus stop. The chilly midnight air gnawed at my flesh even through the thick coat I adorned. I pulled the fuzzy hood over my head and silently prayed for Mr. Charles to arrive early before I die of hypothermia. After what seemed like a freezing eternity, I could make out a glimpse of a figure approaching me. As he got closer, Mr. Charles' bearded face could barely be seen underneath the bundle of hat, scarves and jacket on his body. I remained silent until he took on a seat on the cold bench next to me.

"Mr. Charles," I started, "I saw something that's confusing and impossible to comprehend of."

"What is it, Adele?" his voice was a mixture of calm and gravely. I stared at Mr. Charles deadpanned in the eye.

"I read the news about Mary Anne's late husband, Ronald DeHeart. Was my father in any part of this?"

Mr. Charles suspired heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand. I shivered from both the cold and anticipation. Beneath the dim light of the street lamp, the wrinkles on his face were more prominent, especially the lines on his forehead that indicated years of burden and frowning.

"Adele, before I tell you what you came to know, you must learn something about me first," Mr. Charles spoke. From the tone of his voice, I could tell it was a serious matter. I nodded my head as a gesture that I was listening.

"My name real, Adele, is James Fischer. I'm your father's brother."

My mouth dropped in shock. I frantically searched my brain for any indicator that I had an uncle in all the 16 years I've lived, but nothing resurfaced.

"What—but, I don't have any uncle!" I spluttered out. Mr. Charles—James, I don't know what to call him any longer, smiled sadly at the horizon. There was so much raw emotion reflected in his eyes, something that I found truly bizarre since he was always so guarded.

"That's the price I had to pay as a CIA agent," he said softly, "I was constantly changing identities and my home revolves around the world. I had to give up my old life and my family to keep them from harm. I've never even seen my nieces."

We were surrounded by silence fleetingly while I processed the information. I wouldn't lie; it was such a foreign feeling to discover that you had a relative when you've thought that you were all alone in this world. I didn't know whether to feel blessed or afraid.

"Um," I started, "so how did you know about my—situation?"

James—such a weird name rolling off of my tongue—never tore his eyes from the darkness of the horizon. He was still adorning that sad, pitiful smile on his face.

"Your father knew about the dangers he was about to face. He wrote me a letter, asking me to take care of you and your sister if anything happened. I'm here to fulfill my promise to your father."

I lowered my head to hide the onslaught of tears. Father's smiling face filled my mind instantly and I recalled him embracing me before I left for my junior prom. He rubbed my hair and whispered his love to my ear. I thought nothing of his actions that night but as I got home from prom, I was horrified to find that everything was so horribly ruined.

I rubbed my eyes with that scarf wrapped around my neck. Turning towards James, I was about to ask him about the article once more but froze when he reached into his pocket and pulled out his vibrating cell phone.

"Agent Fisher speaking. Uh huh. You've got the evidence? I'll be right there."

He turned to me, his emotions once again masked behind in an act he had mastered over the years.

"Adele, I have to go. Go home now and do not, I repeat, do not inform anybody of me. As far as the town knows, I am just your algebra teacher. Understood?" James ordered. I nodded my head hastily and frowned at his retreating back.

"Wait!" I hollered, "What about the article!"

James looked back but never stopping his steps. He held up a finger, a sign that meant as 'later'. I huffed out my disappointment and headed back home. During the short journey, the effect of James' news finally hit me. My life was a lie; I didn't even know who I was anymore. How much longer was I supposed to carry on living as Adele?

I arrived in my room, trembling with overwhelming emotions. My fingers instinctively reached for the bottle of my sleeping pills but I recalled that I had thrown them out after leaving Chayton's house. So all I could do was lay on the carpeted floor, curled in a fetal position. No tears came, not even emotions. I was numbed to my core and I welcomed it gladly.

*************************************************************************************

I could feel the tenderness of my eyes as I fought against exhaustion during Algebra. Mr. Charles—James, whatever—was still on his leave so the relief teacher was teaching with his monotone voice today. Just as I was about to surrender to sleep, I felt a poke on my side. Turning around sluggishly, I saw Chayton staring at me.

"Hey, are you okay?" he whispered. My answer was cut off by the ringing of the bell. I gathered my books and headed for the door, as did the other students. As I stepped outside the classroom, I glanced back to search for Chayton who had gone missing in the mob of students scurrying out. In the process, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and bumped into someone. I didn't what was with me and running smack into people. My books dropped haphazardly onto the floor.

"Walk, much?" I glanced up to see none other than Gina glaring down at me. As she stepped over me, I heard her whisper to her goons about me being 'a freak'.

Chayton appeared in front of me and helped me to my feet. "That girl got some serious issues," he muttered. We walked in silence to the cafeteria for lunch with Chayton glancing down at me every few moments.

I wasn't feeling up to eating so I sat on the usual table where we sat with Chayton's friends. They had come to accept me as one of them; I didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. Unexpectedly, Chayton sat next to me without racing to the food.

"Adele, tell me the truth," his voice dropped to a whispered, "Are you still taking them."

"No, Chayton," I exasperated, "I threw them out as soon as I got home." Chayton frowned at me in confusion.

"Then what's bothering you?" I decided that playing coy with Chayton was just a waste of time since he could see right through me.

"I'm just," I started but was interrupted by a loud belching followed by high fives from the boys. A loud groan escaped my lips and I threw my head back in annoyance. The fact that I didn't sleep a wink last night drove my patience short.

"God, I really need more girl friends," I complained. Chayton's eyes squinted at my sudden outburst.

"Is that why you're upset? Because you don't have enough—girl friends? To tell you the truth, Adele, girls in this school are kind of trashy. You wouldn't want to hang with them."

"No, Chayton," I sighed, averting my gaze to the fabric of me jeans, "let's just forget about it, okay."

I could tell that Chayton was getting tired of my excuses even though he never showed it. He rubbed his face a few times, inhaling deeply. I kept my eyes fixed downwards to keep from feeling guilty.

"Listen. I have a performance at this coffee shop downtown tonight. Would you like to come?"

My head snapped to his in surprise. "Performance? You sing?" I asked slowly. A smile reappeared on his face, showing off that tiny dimple on his cheek.

"Yeah, have been for a while now. I can't let my mom support me the whole way, you know."

I nodded in agreement, deciding to follow him so it would distract me from reality. "So um, how do you propose I go there?"

"I—pick you up? I'll be there before eight," he offered.

"Sure," I offered him a smile that I wasn't even sure myself.

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I waited for Chayton on the front porch, all bundled up in my coat. Tristan narrowed his eyes uncharateristically at me when I told him I was going out with Chayton. Mary Anne was once again no where to be found and it was a little strange when Tristan wasn't bothered even the slightest about his mother's constant disappearance. I glanced at my wristwatch; five minutes till eight.

As soon as I dropped my hand, I heard the rumbling of an engine and the screech of the tires as it stopped in front of the house. I was suddenly attacked by a wave of memory when my date picked me up for my junior prom. The honking of the car brought me back to reality. Chayton was hollering my name and I rushed to the passenger side.
He glanced at me funnily before speeding off. We rode in silence much to my surprise since Chayton was such a blabber mouth. I brushed it off as nervousness over his upcoming performance. We arrived at Uncle Joe's Coffee House after a half an hour drive. Chayton slung his guitar case as I carefully maneuvered my way on the icy road.

I was mildly amazed at the number of people who had showed up for the shop's weekly Friday night shows. Chayton parted with me to head to the backstage while I took a seat in a corner.

After a few gothic poem recitals and rather somber singings, I was beginning to think that maybe Chayton had fooled me into believing he was performing tonight. I was about to get up and search for him when the lights suddenly dimmed. I glanced to the makeshift stage and said boy was now perched on a stool with his guitar cradled to his lap. As his fingers began stroking the strings, I was mesmerized but his voice was the one that captivated me the most.

Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me now
Don't be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through
'Cause I've seen the dark side too

When the night falls on you
You don't know what to do
Nothing you confess, could make me love you less

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you

So, if you're mad, get mad
Don't hold it all inside
Come on and talk to me now

Hey, what you got to hide?
I get angry too
Well I'm a lot like you

When you're standing at the crossroads
And don't know which path to choose
Let me come along
'Cause even if you're wrong

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you

Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you
I'll stand by you

And when, when the night falls on you, baby
You're feelin' all alone
You won't be on your own

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you

I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you
Yeah

Won't let nobody hurt you
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you
Won't let nobody hurt you

I'll stand by you
No, no, no, no, no
Take me in, into your darkest hour
And I'll never desert you
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you

Tears that I thought had long dried danced at my vision. He stared at me during the whole song with an unreadable expression on his face. I lowered my head when the tears spilled over the edges of my eyes. The song showed the loyalty and compassion that only Chayton could offer. I knew he will be expecting some explanation afterwards but somehow, after listening to him, I wasn't scared anymore.

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