Chapter 2 - Memories and Nightmares

She stood on the doorstep, sodden, dejected. She felt the cold stares of the neighbours, hovering like vultures, in rapture at her misfortune, delighting in her despair. As she fumbled desperately with the key in the lock she began to shiver violently. Finally wrenching the door open, slamming it firmly behind her she stood, exhausted in the shabby hall, breathless with fear, her eyes wide and staring. Gazing with dismay at the tattered remnants of her clothes and her missing left shoe, she began to breathe harder. Taking in great shuddering breaths that felt like piercing knives. Her stomach churned as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Everything was still. She lay inert upon the threadbare carpet. Her eyes slid shut. The effort involved in keeping them open was killing her.

"Jenny, Jenny" a voice cut through her revere, shattering the still air like glass. The door was thrown open and a man stood framed in the entrance, his brilliant, blue eyes scintillating in the silver moonlight. Tall. Handsome. Powerful.

"Oh Fred" she moaned in almost inaudible tones, her voice cracking. A flash and he was at her side, wrapping his strong arms around her fragile frame, pulling her close to him. Even though he never said a word she knew he was telling her he'd never let her go.

"Fred" she repeated a hint of desperation in her voice now. Reaching up to caress his face she brushed a stray strand of ebony hair from his eyes, smiling up at him as if he held the secret of life itself. With the utmost tenderness, her drew her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you, you know that?"

"I know Fred."

"It kills me to see you like this, so helpless, where you were once so strong. Everyday you seem to float further away from me and I can't reel you in. I don't want to loose you."

"I can't keep doing this. Running away. You think this is killing you? I'm the one with the knife in me and running only drives it further in."



She fell asleep folded gently in his arms. He sat in silence, running his hands through her flaming hair. She stirred restlessly in her sleep and let out a fitful murmur, "Shh" he cooed soothingly, rocking her gently back and forth until she lay still again. His eyes drifted to the scar on her neck and he relived the night he'd first seen her, the wound still open, tears streaming down her face and yet she had seemed so strong. If he ever found the man who had done this to her. They never spoke of that night out loud but often when she whimpered softly in her sleep he suspected that she was replaying the events in her dreams.

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