Red conquered tan, running through lined crevices, it's never-ending trail gliding unaided down my arms, scarlet colored diamonds cruelly embedded themselves into my flesh uncaring of the damage its presence did not only to the surface of my skin, but also to the capacity of my metal well being. My fingers trembled under the horrifying sight trying to make sense of something I normally would have deemed complete insanity.

What had I done? Why was it that anytime something unspeakable happened it seemed to happen only to me?

The excruciating pain, obdurate in its unyielding quest to withdraw every ounce of liquid from my hazel gaze continued to ruthlessly throb throughout my hands, and yet its agony inducing ache was nothing compared to the confusion that plagued my mind. How was it that I was alone in the bathroom? I had been no where near the glass and yet here I stood covered in my own blood. Tears continued to drip like rain trickling down a window pane falling in silence from my trembling chin, my chest quivering as it rose and fell in a panicked procession in my failed attempts to cease the outpour of sadness I felt engulfing me from within.

"It's okay Anna, we'll just get this cleaned up, and you'll be as good as new," Clarice murmured reassuringly, her green eyes were kind as she placed my shaken form on my bed hurrying to get the supplies to stop the trickle of scarlet painting the white tile. "The good thing is that none of these cuts are deep."

She went to grab for my hand only to pause as I still moved to resist her touch.

Green eyes met a terrified hazel, "Anna, I have to touch you in order to clean your wounds. Nothing is going to happen. Do you hear me?"

Her words were spoken gently and yet I still held back. How I wished I could swallow those well meant lies, but a vision of Maria's face, revulsion lining her features surpassed my once naive notions of the beliefs of normalcy the simple act of skin touching used to be, its sight causing me to continue to pull away.

"Anna, that burn has to be painful. You have to want me to put something on that," she replied soothingly. "How did you get burned anyway?"

My hazel eyes as if the weight of the world clung to my long lashes fell from hers looking pass the abundant flow of blood, pass the multitude of tiny cuts towards the reddened burns that until this moment I hadn't even noticed lined my once undamaged skin, the exact shape of fingers. Delicately my bloody hand rose towards the discolored marks that graced my arms, unnerving alarm traveling within me at the realization that my fingers fit perfectly over the inflamed skin. My mind wandered back to that moment I had faced my ominous reflection, her contemptuous gaze, the spitefulness of her tongue... her blistering touch...

"There, the worse is over. I'll put something on that burn and bandage that up and we'll be all set," Clarice exclaimed with a smile, my mind barely registering that not only had she touched me, but more importantly nothing had resulted from the contact.

Only God knew how I wished, longed to return to pass days of my disillusioned childhood. Back to nights when tears soaked my pillow at the realization of my mother's love never seeming to expand far enough to reach Andrea's and my hearts. Back to feeling completely ignored by the one person I ached to have their approval, and yet still everything made sense. And while I hated living with my step father I knew what to expect, what to dread instead of this constant state of confusion, the bewildering unknown I now felt ensnared in.

"Okay, well why don't you get changed? I laid out a beautiful dress for you, and paired with this lovely white cardigan your cuts and bruises will barely be noticed."

I glanced blindly at the knee length floral covered pink sun dress hanging on the door of my closet with distaste before turning back to her joyful green eyes. "Why would I wear that? What's wrong with my normal regulation jogs and tee?"

"Today is special, and you want to look pretty for it, trust me," she evasively commented as she moved to brush the tangles from my curls, an action I longed for from my own mother and yet on the receiving end of it now it only made my distrust in her sudden maternal manners grow.

This sense of not knowing anything that was going on in my life, of having not even a small ounce of control was starting to seriously piss me off, so much so that I yanked away from her touch ignoring the pain I felt at the harsh tug of the brush pulling at my curls so unexpectedly.

"I don't trust you. I don't know you, so why don't you tell me why I should look so pretty today?"

"Anna," she began only to stop at the opening of the door. Another nurse stepped in, her uniform hanging off her thin shape, her red hair making her skin appear that much paler, and her brown eyes intent to avoid my gaze as they searched Clarice's.

"Christopher wants to know what is taking so long?" she whispered; sweat trickling from her brow, fear coming off her body in mouth-wateringly delectable waves.

I felt my darker self stir inside me, hunger gnawing at my insides; its want to obliterate all that surrounded me ate away at my morals. My need to capture the silent sense of panic I felt flowing inside her veins was overwhelming, my common sense screaming at me to tame my wayward emotions in fear of releasing the darkest enemy I had come to face so far... myself.

"Sorry Alice, tell him we shall be there shortly."

I watched their exchange with indifference, their words held such little importance to me, and while the thirst remained unquenchable as it always would be I forced myself to ignore my unwanted bloodlust, my mind already busy trying to penetrate Clarice's. I could feel myself slipping inside her thoughts, sorting pass the superficial surface every person allowed the world to observe and yet when I tried to dig further everything seemed to go black. Clearly something was different about her and it wasn't just that blue glow surrounding her figure. There was a block I couldn't seem to surpass, a barrier guarding her thoughts as if she knew of what I could do and had come prepared. And it seemed the harder I pushed pass her mental obstruction the harder I was propelled from her thoughts all together.

My head began to ache from my strenuous if not fruitful efforts, my quivering hands pushing back my curls to caress my temples.

"Are you finished?" Clarice asked, amusement tugging at her full lips. I froze wondering if she knew exactly what it was I had attempted to do.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you finished rebelling. It's just a dress Anna. It won't kill you to wear it," she joked while moving to lay some shoes out beside the bed. "I'll give you a few minutes to change then we have to go," she said already walking towards the door.

"What are you?" I whispered, completely terrified at what it meant to finally meet the one person that could resist my powers.

She paused at the door, smiling, "I'm no different than you are Anna."

I could tell that her words were said to bring comfort but they instead did nothing to ease my increasingly growing sense of trepidation.

.........................................................

I knew the petrifying feeling of facing a judge, jury, strangers, loved ones; their eyes piercing into me, already classifying me as guilty because in their narrow-minded intelligence to place me in the role of inhumane monster allowed the search for truth to end, allowed for the unexplainable question of cruelty to be resolved. The fact that my claim of innocence might have a ring of truth remained insignificant when compared to my own damnation pleasing the masses.

I had faced that unjust feeling many times since my conviction merely to have it repeated the moment I entered Christopher's office, only this time instead of gaps blurring the clarity of the past I knew exactly what happened, exactly why I was guilty.

"Okay, we'll try this again Anna. Where is Mick?" Christopher repeated, irritation plainly dripping from every word that fell from his thin lips. His brown eyes held the anger he restrained, and yet the flushed skin, and pulsating vein lining his neck revealed his fury easily while clearly making a mockery of the so called concern for my welfare he had tried to imitate earlier as I had taken a seat before him.

Behind him stood yet another armed officer, this interrogation scene becoming oddly routine between Chris and me. The only thing to change since the last time we had spoken was that this cop obviously wasn't Officer Daniels, and the fact that Maria stood off in the background. Her lone figure oddly quiet, her grey eyes still vigilant as they stared back into mine, but most importantly it was not the fear I saw consuming her gaze that seemed to hurt me it was where she chose to reside. Her stiffened form remained on the opposite side of Christopher's huge oak wood desk, directly to the right of his brown leather chair, unambiguously opposed to me.

While as always I sat alone.

"I don't know where he is." A lie.

Christopher let out a sound that was a cross between a weary sigh and a humorless laugh, his hand rising to run through his already tousled hair, "You know we never had these kinds of issues until you arrived here."

I met his gaze unflinchingly, "What do you mean?"

He rose quickly, his body leaning menacingly over his desk to glare back at me, "You know exactly what the hell I mean!"

"Christopher," Maria placated, her hand on his shoulder seeming to calm him, to force him to return to his seat.

With wary eyes I watched him take a deep breath, his hands quick to adjust his red tie as if its fit was choking him when it was plain to everyone that it was just a nervous twitch, "Anna, all we want is the truth. Mick came to take you back to your room, and then what happened?"

"I don't know," I mumbled noticing the growing angry flush rising in his cheeks.

"It's becoming blatantly obvious to us all that anytime you don't want to admit guilt you play the memory card. Just how long do you think that will continue to work? How long before I call the judge that placed you here and tell him any chance at recovery is completely useless with you?"

I trembled with unexpressed fear on the inside and yet remained unbreakably calm externally, "You are the doctor. Maybe you're right, maybe something inside me is too damaged to repair."

My vision blurred with pent-up remorse and quickly I dropped my gaze to the dull beige carpeting until I could shove them back behind the locked door my mind had compartmentalized my emotions in. This was not a time for weakness, for guilt, and yet when I raised my head back up hazel clashed with Maria's gray gaze. Finally she caught a glimpse of the Anna she always knew to be inside me even when it had seemed evil had completely eradicated my former self.

"No one is too far gone that help can't be received," she whispered into the silence causing all eyes including my own to stare at her.

"Well, while that's all sweet and noble the body count at this institution is swiftly rising," Christopher scornfully inserted, his distaste for me making his lip curl in disdain. "First the four attendants at your mere arrival, Brittany, Brody, poor little Harmony," he listed, each name causing the rise of another finger on his hand. "Then there was the sudden resigning of your first doctor, and the mysterious attack on your last; who up until this point still has trouble remembering what happened that day, that is if she ever will. Oh, and let's not forget the literal insanity that claimed the mind of our nurse Holly Summers, who remains staring at absolutely nothing, completely catatonic... and now this."

"Why don't you blame me for the earth quakes and world famine while you're at it," I mocked.

His thick brows furrowed over furious eyes, "this is no joking matter Miss Cortez."

"No it's not, and clearly you do not see a smile on my face, but even you have to see the absurdity of your own words. I was attacked and knocked out way before any of those people were hurt."

"Yes, by some unknown assailant that you can never seem to recall. Aww, that pesky memory thing again," he ridiculed ruthlessly. "Or could it be that you are the one behind it all while somehow conveniently fiddling with cameras making it appear that you're completely innocent, and that you and you alone remain the only living victim."

"Careful Christopher, your paranoia is starting to show. Wouldn't want to end up in a room beside Holly, now would you?"

He jumped to his feet, his expression livid, "Is that a threat!"

Shock widened the shape of my eyes at his sudden outburst before they moved pass Christopher's furious form towards the officer behind him, the man's hand quick to take hold of the gun still resting on his belt.

"That's enough!" Maria screamed, quick to place herself directly between us. "This is getting us no where. Christopher return to your seat, and everyone please calm down," she appeased, her eyes not leaving the officer's until his hand came off the gun before finally she turned to stoop before me. "Anna, where is Mick? What happened after he came to get you?"

"I asked for you," I whispered.

"And he said...," she prompted at my sudden silence.

"He said he would take me to you," my brows furrowed as if I was struggling to recall when really everything was clear as day and what I really struggled with was how much to reveal, "there was a needle in my arm. He said something about his uncle being innocent, and then everything went black."

She glanced back at Christopher before turning back to me, "That's good Anna. Do you remember anything after that?"

"I woke up alone. It was dark. My head was pounding, my clothes were dirty, and I remember the ground shaking. I was scared. I couldn't see anything, and I felt for a door tripping over fallen debris until I made it to the stairs. And then came back here."

"And that's all you remember happening?" she asked softly, her tone sweet to the untrained ear, and yet her eyes unbelieving of every word I spoke.

"Yes," I lied, my eyes dead as they met hers.

"Well obviously something else happened," Christopher interrupted; his tone exasperated, annoyed, and yet oddly mollified, "I mean it was clear Mick believed his uncle Andy to be innocent of any wrong doing. He certainly said it plenty of times, but to go after one of the patients... And you have no clue what happened to him?"

"I'm afraid not," I lied while avoiding Maria's probing gaze, hating the way she easily saw through my falsehoods.

"What about the bruises, the blood they said that covered you? How do you explain that? Some have said that they looked defensive as if you had sustained them in a scuffle," the cop interjected.

"As I have said I don't remember everything. All I know is what I have told you. There was a lot of falling objects that night my body bruises easily, and I think it's easy to say I sustain cuts daily here."

I felt their eyes fall to my newly bandaged hands, distrust still lying in their gazes. "Someone told us those marks on your neck which today are miraculously almost healed last night were much worse, that they appeared to be in the shape of fingers. As if you were strangled?"

"Well someone," I let the word someone linger, my eyes moving to Maria watching her guilty gaze fall from mine before I returned to the cop, "was obviously mistaken, but funnily enough I find it odd that a person you believed to be the victim of strangulation is now on the receiving end of an interrogation?"

His smirk held little amusement, "Depends on the situation. I would take hold of a person's neck too if that person was harming me and there was nothing else I could do, and as it's been said you are always the only surviving victim."

My crossed legs shook with impatience, the heel of my white sandals moving restlessly, "am I in trouble for something, or can I return to my room?"

"That was actually my thoughts exactly. Room confinement seemed to be the best solution all around until we get to the bottom of this but," I watched Christopher pause before sighing, infuriation eating away at him, "But thanks to a generous donation that resolution will not be possible."

"A generous donation?"

"It seems your parents are coming to visitation day this morning."

The normally consistent rhythmic thumps stilled inside my chest, hope as fragile as crystal, so easy to disintegrate with the slightest of pressure stubbornly started to grow from within, its delicate grasp twisting its way around my tenuous heart, as it always did where my mother was concerned. In all the time I had been institutionalized I had heard not one word from her. Not one phone call, not one visit. And if I was being perpetually and yet brutally honest it hurt intensely to know that the only parent that remained living detested the very idea of my existence so much so that she no longer cared of what became of me. Although that awful night still remained blank in my mind, a constant black void of frustratingly bleak nothingness I knew that deep inside I would have been happier if my mother would have at least screamed at me, yelled at me for what everyone irrefutably assumed I had done. Anything would have been better than those hauntingly heartrending eyes, those condemningly accusing looks, the fright that clung to her, and the way she continued to callously avoid having anything to do with me. I; her once preciously sweet, forever laughing, naively trusting child distorted into alleged monster, and no matter how she now refused to acknowledge the words I remained forever... her own daughter.

But in a matter of minutes my mom could be walking through that door.

I felt my eyes leave the conversation around me, travel along the beige carpet, pass the bookcases to the door that separated us and the hallway as if I contained the power to will her form before me only to find that once my eyes rose Andrea's glaring face unexpectedly starred back at me. I jumped in my seat at her sudden appearance, the hostile anger apparent on her features.

"Anna, do you see someone there?" Maria asked, concern causing her to kneel back at my side.

My eyes reluctant to leave my sister's livid expression had to be forcibly removed as I turned my head back towards the nurse. "No, of course not."

Another obvious lie that she quickly saw through.

"Because if you see someone there you should tell us?" she whispered her words eerily similar to the past and yet now I knew better.

Why should I, because she showed so much fucking concern for what happens to me so far? Because they just wanted to help?

I leaned in unnervingly closer, loving the way she quickly distanced herself as crimson transcended its usual shade, its red rim flaring in the impulsive exhilaration of her terror before they swiftly returned back to their habitually constant hazel, "I... said... I... didn't see anything." Then completely dismissing her cowering form, and her rather pathetic fear I turned towards the others, "Can I go now?"

"Of course. Clarice will take you back to your room. Room confinement will be in effect until your parents arrive. I'm sure you can understand why," Christopher replied, that phony smile back on his lips, his distracted mind already miles away from my incommodious existence, Mick's disappearance all but a distant memory.

I rose to walk towards the door but Maria's entrenched hold on my arm stopped me. Clearly I had underestimated her overly righteous sense of morality for it overrode her fear of me, and yet I noticed she was careful to touch the sleeve of my cardigan and not my actual skin, "Anna if there's ever anything you need to talk about you can always get in touch with me. I'll still be here."

The door opened, Clarice patiently standing in its entrance, Andrea now no where to be found as I turned back to my former nurse coldheartedly shrugging off her hold, "there is nothing I want to say to you. You're on the third level now not mine, so take your false sense of concern and shove it up their asses because you made it blatantly obvious whose side you were on."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, "Sides? I only want to help you Anna. I didn't choose a side. I just wanted to find Mick, and to make sure nothing happened to you today in this meeting."

"No", I said vehemently, "you choose a side when you decided I wasn't worth caring about. When you decided to leave me," I whispered, the once impenetrable dam that held back my overpowering emotions remained but now almost at breaking point. With my head held high, and the unsteadiness of my legs I was forced to conceal I walked towards the exit ignoring Maria's poignantly heartbreaking pleas for me to stop.

Clarice's chatter was like a distant hum of annoyance as we continued back to my cell. She had no real need for me to actually answer her, just some unknown impulse to interrupt the stifling silence.

"I'll come back for you soon. Your breakfast is on the table," she commented before enclosing me inside, the sliding of the lock into place sounding more like a gunshot within my pounding head.

I stared at the tray, looking at the now cold unappetizing eggs and toast with disgust before walking towards the mirror to brush my curls.

"You shouldn't go."

Andrea's sudden appearance from behind startled me, my hands unsteady as I continued the movement through my long locks, "You shouldn't sneak up on me."

She ignored my comment, "Whatever delusional scene you have playing in that mind of yours isn't going to happen."

I placed the brush on the dresser, turning to face her, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about Anna!" she screamed, her hands twisting me back towards her incensed face when I went to turn my back on her. "You were always the one dreaming that mom would change, but I always knew better. News flash! She never will!"

I feverishly yanked my arm from her grasp, my anger for once matching her own, "you don't know that! Why else would she come to see me?"

"Anna, you've been gone for months and who has been there for you? It certainly wasn't her!"

"Yeah, and half the time I could say the same thing about you, my so called precious protector," I spat out at her viciously.

Her face froze before it slowly crumpled with constrained shame, "You know they wouldn't allow me to help you! I'm not even supposed to be here now!"

I laughed humorlessly, "and yet here you are against there wishes to scold and warn me of things you know nothing about, but when I truly needed you, had screamed for your help you held yourself back, and now you tell me I should take your sage advice?"

Tears trickled down her cheeks, her desperate eyes pleading, "You have no idea what it's like to be me! To watch you being hurt knowing I could do nothing to prevent it! But I'm telling you now I will stop at nothing to make sure you are not hurt from this point on even if that includes keeping that bitch from your side!"

My eyes mimicked her own sadness, "how can you say that about your own mother?"

"How could you not?" she countered.

"Anna, it's time to go down," Clarice said in the doorway, her eyes directly trained on Andrea, as if she also could see my sister's irate expression.

I quickly wiped away the moisture that trailed my cheeks, walking to exit the room, "don't worry, I'm ready."

I turned to glance over my shoulder but as always Andrea had already vanished.

......................................................................

"Oh, I have to help with a few more things Anna, but if you just take these stairs they will lead you outside towards the tables we have set up for today. You'll see some nurses and patients already outside enjoying what will probably be the last warm day before fall," Clarice said gently before leaving me abandoned, utterly alone in the hallway my unwanted thoughts my only company.

I couldn't understand Andrea's injudicious anger, her unwarranted abhorrence towards our mother. A woman who had birthed us into this world, a woman until recently I hadn't remembered had indomitably done all she could to give us a better life even if she had done them partly for self-seeking reasons, her actions resulting in the downfall and complete devastation of our father.

My fingers pushed open the stairwell's door, the only source of light being the lamp the hung from above, no outside windows lined the white walls, and the height of the staircase to the ground below was almost dizzying. A foretelling shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the overwhelming amount of stairs I'd have to travel in order to get to the door that would lead me outside. My hand shook uncontrollably as I gripped the banister trying to convince myself of my own meager bravery so that I could find the hidden courage to at least release my hold on the door that would enclose me inside. I cagily glanced back up at the fragile light knowing from unwanted experience exactly how easy it would be to have it extinguished, and what lied zealously in wait if that was ever to happen.

"Anna, you can do this. It's just a few stairs," I whispered unconvincingly to myself, my breath peculiarly coming out like smoke in the suddenly chilly air.

Even with fear clutching my rampant heart I felt my fingers slowly pry from the wood of the entrance, watching a trailing of moisture follow my movements at the desertion of my sweaty palm from its surface. Then quickly I found myself alone enclosed in the silence, my fanatical panting the only noise I could hear. The light that once seemed so resilient began to regrettably flicker; the smell of rotting flesh flowed pungently through the air, its scent seeming to burn the very hairs of my nose as a tiny trickle of liquid drizzled from the ceiling directly atop my cheek.

My deadened hand took on a violent tremor as it rose to dip a tip of my finger along the wet trailing that crept the length of my cheek, horrified at seeing the thick scarlet substance that seemed to line my palms so often. I heard the scrap of nails, listening as a loud straining noise abruptly bounced off the walls as something beyond the appropriate weight took hold of the hanging lamp causing its weak light to swing chaotically back and forth along the walls. I heard a distinctive snap of one of the bolts that held the lamp in place give way falling helplessly down the many staircases just as my legs finally gained feeling back into its muscles, and what was once fear transformed into adrenaline as I tore away from the door thundering down the steps.

The lamp finally fell smashing into a strewn disarray of sparks just behind my feet as I moved quickly trying not to notice that familiar pounding of nails following my wake, or the unsteady pounding of my petrified heart. They proceed after me swiftly as if traveling along shadows snatching at my curls; strands of it becoming their sick trophies, scratching at the uncovered skin of my legs while loving the horrified screams I belted out at their pain inducing touch. I kicked out at nothing; punched at thin air listening as they cackled at my distraught tears, but never did I decrease my movements. It was only as my hand gripped the door finally immersing myself in glorious sunlight, their atrophy, shriveled forms shrinking away from the brightness as if it's mere touch would corrupt their inner dark core, pollute the internal cruelty that motivated their every thought, was that I realized there had been no real sense of danger in that stairwell at all. In the safety of daylight I stared back at them; their deformed bodies, their small talons, those forever blood thirsty red eyes knowing these demons were never going to kill me. Their intent was only to invoke my fear.

These weak underlings were half the size of the ones I had fought off in the past.

Their presence was merely a message to me, a comprehensible, indisputably transparent act of cruelty just to show me that even with the power to kill so many of their kind I still remained no threat to them.

These creatures who found revolting gratification in my sorrow; my fright were sent just to heartlessly toy with me for their leader's own spitefully joyful amusement, something I unknowingly in my pathetic attempts to break free had easily given to them.

"Excuse me, but have you seen my daughter Irene? She was supposed to meet me today," an older man spoke interrupting my fears, rescuing me from my thoughts as the door to my nightmares closed shut. Still shaken I turned towards his worried brown eyes, a look of haunting confusion lined his wrinkled features, his hair what little remained atop his head was completely white, and yet while his expression remained lost his brown slacks and white button up shirt remained starched and wrinkle free with the care of a man that took pride in his appearance.

"I'm sorry, I don't know an Irene," I whispered dazedly while moving quickly away from the door barely noticing the astonishment on his face, or that hastily he followed my footsteps.

"It's just that she's never late, and I'm beginning to worry about her," his heartfelt concern made me think of my own parents wishing that even one of them cared half as much as he seemed to.

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere," I reassured him, while glancing leisurely around the small groups of people that surrounded the well kept lawn. "Maybe you should ask-."

"Anna," Maria interrupted me coming up to me from behind. "Sweetie, who are you talking to?"

"Oh, I was only speaking-," I started while turning from her to the man to my right, and yet as I looked back to where he once stood no one remained there. No one stood in that spot at all.

"Anna, are you okay? Your legs, their bleeding?"

I looked down at the small scratches that lined my calves; tiny paths of blood ran down my legs to trickle over my white shoes.

Where did he go? He was just here, I was sure of it and yet now...

"I don't know... I feel tired, dizzy," I whispered my mind searching for unattainable answers, tears coming to my eyes.

"Then why don't you sit here and rest a while. I'll go get something to clean those cuts," she reassured me while easing me into the awaiting white lawn chair.

My eyes appeared almost golden in the brilliant, incandescent brightness of the sun. It had rose high into a cerulean blue surface no dark looming clouds daring to interrupt its peaceful beauty only minuscule white inflated billows drifting gradually by, the teasingly playful wind accompanying its movements toying idly with my curls. The air's gentle stroke against my skin was wonderfully chilling beneath the warmth of the sun's touch as I watched from my position as graceful weeping willows from a not too distant forest that surround the lawn rocked and swayed as if dancing along to silent musical notes carried in the wind.

I allowed my eyes to close, to escape the horrors that chased me, thoughts that plagued me, enjoying this rare moment of freedom knowing that if my doctors or the police had anything to do with my sentencing I would never be permitted this allowance again.

"You know she's here, right?" Andrea said interrupting my serene thoughts.

"Who?" I asked not bothering to open my eyes.

"Who else Marie! Our dear mother!" she yelled impatiently. "She's been here for over an hour and she hasn't even asked to see you."

My eyes popped open at her malicious words, "Do you take pleasure in trying to hurt me?"

"Of course not, I'm trying to protect yo-."

I rose to my feet forgetting for the moment about my scratches, the monsters chasing me, the disappearance of the man only I could see, my mind currently only on my older intrusive sister. "Well you can't protect me from everything. Sometimes you just have to let go."

I watched her smile sadly, her fingers rising to tuck her blond hair back behind her ears, "yes, I'm beginning to see that. She's over there near the drink table."

I turned to where Andrea pointed; my feet slow as they moved closer towards the one person whose affection I truly could never seem to earn. Someone whose love should have come unconditionally and yet since that night I felt like something distasteful my mother seemed to want swiftly swept away under a rug. And that's where I was. Hidden, forgotten, and finally out of the way.

"Mom," I whispered watching shoulders with skin tones so similar to my own stiffen at the mere sound of my voice. The wind blew her silken waves around her expertly made up face, its color as dark as a raven's wing; its glossy inky blackness I seemed to inherit. Her fingers increased its grip on the flute of champagne as her other hand rose to clutch the expensive pearls that lined her neck as she slowly turned towards me, her black shift dress blowing against her legs as hazel eyes slowly filled with shame and disgust drowning the earlier happiness from her pupils, eyes that were an exact replica of mine. "Mommy, you came."

"I have to go," she hurriedly inserted before moving quickly towards the crowd.

"No, mom wait," I frantically screamed, my tears falling from my cheeks, my legs quick to follow her in pursuit.

"Marie, I can't deal with you right now. Let it go," she said over her shoulder, her feet never stopping their movement away from me.

I noticed several people watching our exchange from the sidelines and yet the only faces that stuck out to me were Maria's sad expression, Clarice's bewildered watchful gaze, and the clear I told you so obvious in Andrea's smirk.

"Mom please," I pleaded desperately, my emotions taking over my normally rational way of thinking as my fingers reached out to touch my mother's hand. My fingers interlaced with hers watching as at last she turned towards me, her eyes horrified, her mouth falling open and then everything and anything that surrounded us quickly seemed to disappear.

I gasped, my eyes opening blinking hysterically to clear the blurred edges that seemed to consume everything surrounding me. Glancing around I realized I had come home again and now sat in what appeared to be my mother's bedroom. There behind me stood my mom's enormous bed; its blue comforter spotless, not a wrinkle dared grace its surface. Her closet overflowed with contents of designer clothes, expensive shoes, and posh handbags all organized in an over-obsessive methodically military fashion. Not one thing remained out of its place.

I rose from my seat on the white chaise that rested near the darkened window moving quickly towards the vanity, my black lace evening gown rustling along my shoeless feet as I sunk regretfully on the cushion before me taking in the vast amount of exclusive makeup, the costly perfume that lined its surface, tears falling down my cheeks as I removed my precious diamonds.

Ruby encrusted pins were yanked from my scalp uncaring of the pain caused at their harsh removal as a massive weight of fallen dark waves enveloped my shoulders cascading down my back.

I glanced up at my reflection, my mother's face staring back at me; her makeup ruined and still her beauty unchallengeable. "Take a good look. This is the life you dreamed of. Carmen, this is what you wanted," I whispered pathetically, the words barely able to slide off my tongue, my heart caving in with my hidden emotions. My hand quickly grasped my glass of umber therapy, its burning liquid overflowing the crystal's sides at my jerky movements, the ice clinking as I hurried to swallow its contents before pouring another.

My hand rose again to look at the time, the sight of the late hour in its gold plated surface doing nothing to lessen my need to drink, and then slowly I heard the door open, my husband sneak his way inside. I knew I should instantly correct myself for the great Mayor Stevens never had to hide his transgressions from me, not that he would ever dare to flaunt them before the public eye, but as always he made it plain he expected perfection from me at all times for it was what the public expected.

"Where have you been?" I questioned bitterly the alcohol loosening my tongue, my eyes watching him through the mirror as he continued to enter the room. His blonde hair was disheveled something I knew it never dared do in the front of cameras, his black slacks wrinkled, his white shirt unbuttoned hanging off his muscular chest, that damn red tie he claimed was lucky hung carelessly from his neck, his own conceited pin attached to its fabric.

His green eyes were mocking, his cruelly full lips sneering, "Why, dear wife that almost sounded like a demand."

The alcohol seemed to give me artificial courage for I turned hateful eyes towards him, malice lining my every word, "dear husband," I spat out, "that's because it was! It is almost five in the morning and the party ended four hours ago! Where have you been?"

The smile slipped from his lips swiftly as if I had imagined its existence, an evil look overriding his normally condescendingly false sense of charm, and instantly I rose running for the safety of the bathroom. The long fabric of my dress made speed difficult for as soon as my hands reached earnestly for the grass knob his palms had already grabbed my hair, yanking it back with such force tears spilled over my lids my head helplessly falling back towards his grip.

His face leaned in dangerously close to my own, whispering, "You are nothing more than a whore I dressed up to play the part of my wife. You are a glamorous nonentity to smile before the camera and give off the illusions of a happy family, not to form opinions about anything I do."

His hand released my waves, his fist brutal as it bashed repeatedly into my stomach. The air left my lungs, my mouth gasping, my hair falling around me like a shield as I collapsed on the bed trying to remember how to breathe without this undeniable shaft of pain erupting in my stomach from the motion. He hit me in places that bruises never showed, his ambitions to rise above his current position always at the forefront. I wept pitifully curling into a fetal position knowing he laughed at my tears, scorning any sign of imperfection, any sign of weakness.

His sudden unyielding grip on my neck caused my eyes to widen, my breathing to cease, "You will not question me again, is that clear?"

My lungs burned from lack of oxygen, my vision blurring, "Yes."

"You will follow my orders without compliant?" The pressure on my neck increasing.

"Yes," I choked.

"Good, then we understand each other," he said, his tone sadistically sweet as his lips covered my pale cheek before finally right before I could feel myself loosing consciousness I was released, air rushed into my waiting mouth, the sound of my coughs filling the room. "Clean yourself up. You look a fucking mess," he remarked casually as he continued undressing, walking towards the shower.

I touched my tender neck gently while trying to wipe away the moisture that blinded my sight, "Carmen, this is what you wanted," I repeated, my voice too hoarse for every word to come out completely, my eyes full of unexpressed hate gazing at that horrible tie, the distinctive smell of lilacs drifting from its surface. Quickly I added adultery to his growing list of sins.

Mayor Stevens a man of the people, a man the epitome of morality, the Newspapers claimed...

Those fucking reporters lied.

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(Okay guys, so what do you think so far? I was going to make this longer because I had some stuff to go with it but I stopped because I know some of you are like, really ten pages lol I never even notice how long it is that's how into the story I am sometimes. I know my upload is super late so I guess it's a good thing I'm uploading now lol. I really need your opinions to know if I'm headed in the right direction guys, so always comment and currently I am done with all my art projects so expect another upload very soon... but don't quote me on that lol.

So this was just a small taste into Anna's family life. Everyone seems to have hidden secrets. Don't miss the next chapter its sure to be simply electrifying (hint hint) lol.

So you know the deal....

Always comment (because I don't know what I'm doing right or wrong without your input lol)...

Vote if you liked it (Totally hope you did)....

Add it to your library (Always looking for new fans lol)...

But most importantly always come back and wait for more...

Until next time...