Dustin fumbled with the string of the guitar and swore as the cord came out jarring and deafening.

"Guys I think that will be it for the day," Linda said, taking matters in her own hand.

They were at it for the past three hours and it was obvious that things on Dustin's part weren't going to prove futile. She knew also he didn't want to have to face the questions that were building up in everyone's mind. She could see the shared questioning glances, as well as the puzzled looks as they watched him fumble time and time again, missing beats and falling flat as he loses concentration.

"Thanks for coming, I'll get intouch with tomorrow's rehearsal details," she told them as they piled out.

After the farewells and they were alone she closed down the metal shutter and shut them inside.

"You need to talk about it," she said, getting to the matter. "It's eating away at you, you're not concentrating and with you being like this, I am afraid the Band isn't going to perform at it's best."

Dustin who now sat in the far corner of the room poking at the tile with a drum stick raised his head and stared at her through the ink tinted array of fallen hair that fell down his forehead. His eyes were pools of pain and his attractive jovial face was covered by a mask of sadness.

He looked away from her and she made to go to him but she stood her ground and offered a listening ear instead.

He sighed then spoke in a voice laced with emotions he had hoped to bury. "I know you know that Misty killed our dad when she was 15 years old," he said. "It's no secret and to everyone she is the little girl who saved her brother from their abusive drunkard of a father."

The overwhelming desire to close the distance between took her prisoner and before she could resist she was going to him. Why did Misty have to be so selfish now when in the beginning she was the selfless saviour that allowed Dustin and her a second chance at happiness, in finding people who genuinely loved and cared for them. She took his hand and comforted him as sisterly as she could, it ripped her apart to see him like this.

"When our mother died our world changed. It changed our father and he became a broken heap of nothing. He could barely keep himself together much less look after us, soon we were left to fend for ourselves.

I started stealing so that we could eat and one night I became too sick to do so. With no beer to numb his pain or render him blind to his children he became extremely vile and bitter. He told us he never wanted us and if Sheila had only listened she would not have been dead and gone leaving her unwanted brood behind.

He shouted at me and pulled me from the bed telling me to stop being a sissy. I was nothing but a weak worthless boy, he screamed. I was too weak from being sick so I just fell at his feet taking the onslaught of His verbal abuse.

In a barely sober state he started kicking me saying it was best I was dead. As the pain that crippled my body escalated and the weakness that left me helpless left me to think that this was my end, Misty cried for him to stop hurting me but he only continued. I was broken and bloodied when Misty found a vase and hit him to the side of the head. It however only staggered him for a moment and brought his attention to Misty."

His voice was now laced with unshed tears and bitter memories. Linda watched as he took a calming breath as she fought the turmoil of the past. He cleared his throat before he continued.

"He pitched her to the ground and started ripping at her clothes telling her she was a little bitch and he was going to give her what little bitches deserve." His hand trembled in her clasped one and she squeezed it in support and comfort.

Linda heart pounded in her chest at the revelation that was unfolding around her and she wished that she could wipe away that part of his life. If only it was as easy as blowing out candles and wishing upon a star she would have done so without a moment's hesitation.

"He raped her before I could find the strength to take a piece of the broken vase and plunge it within his neck and put an end to the hurt that the man who was our father was causing her.

I vowed never to let her hurt like that again. I felt every minute of her torture as if it was I who was being violated and deminished.

As I crawled next to her and curled her up next to me ,she made me promise never to tell what had happened. I am now breaking that silence with you because I fear for Misty. I know she is going to do something dreadful. I can feel it."

Linda stood in silence as she let everything she was just told wash over her and gave her clarity as to why Misty was such a forceful selfish being. This was her way of protecting herself, of finding her worth that was ripped from her by her father.

All Misty ever knew of love was pain and betrayal. Somehow she felt that somewhere in the midst of her friendship with Lisa and Karin, along with Erin she was being betrayed. All these mixed up emotions and past hurts that were buried and never exposed to be dealt with were now a driving force to something dangerous.

She trembled as a dark realization surfaced in her mind.

"Dustin I believe Misty is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder PTSD. I also believe if we don't get her some help soon, something terrible is going to happen."

Dustin stared at her and said softly.

"It has already started."

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Question: Is Misty too far over the edge to be saved?