Winter of the Heart
Author's warning: This story deals with death, rape, suidide, and a multitude of other disturbing things. I tried to avoid the graphic, but it's still a bit unsettling.
Cover by Katie
Renee Jackson grew up in one of southern California's many 'privileged' homes. Her family was rich, high-class, and utterly arrogant. Renee, by some miracle, managed not to be spoiled like so many kids in her position were. Her mother had been a delicate, self-absorbed woman, who felt the responsibility of a socialite mother ended with kissing her daughter goodnight and dispensing the occasional cliché disguised as maternal advice. The rest could and should be left to the nanny until Renee was old enough to take care of herself. Her father had cared for her in a stern fashion. He was a businessman, and very busy, but he encouraged her interest in business. He saw in her the makings of a superb businesswoman, and although he wasn't around much, he made time for her as well as he could. When Renee was nine she went on an actual outing with her family. Her mother decided she should be maternal for the day, and ordered the cook to pack them a lunch so they could drive to a real park and have an actual picnic. Halfway there, a drunk driver plowed head-on into their car. Her father, who was driving himself for once, was killed instantly, as was her mother. Renee and her little brother Jack were sitting in the back and escaped all but the slightest injuries. Renee and Jack went to live with their paternal grandfather, a man much like their father. He had no use for Renee at all. He was upset over the death of his only son and inheritor, and set to work immediately preparing Jack to take over the business. He doted on the boy, lavishing him with affection. Renee got the same advantages, of course. She was never neglected, except emotionally. He saw to it that she got whatever she needed or wanted, but beyond that he pretty much ignored her. She was left to her own devices. In high school, Renee was loved by all. She was dazzlingly beautiful even then, with her platinum-blond hair and laughing, blue gray eyes. She was easily the most popular person in her school. The boys were all in love with her, the girls all wanted to be her friend. Though her family was rich and she had everything she wanted, she was never cruel, even to the 'dorks' and 'geeks'. She was everyone's friend and they all adored her. She received all the love she didn't get at home. She got straight A+'s seemingly effortlessly, and was always willing to help anyone who asked with their grades. She had a passion for basketball and was the star of the team from her freshman year on. Most people in the 'in crowd' in high school are universally hated by those who are not. But not so for Renee. Even those who resented her perfection in the abstract could not bring themselves to hate her, even if she did get all the guys and all the attention and all the advantages. Once they actually talked to her, their dislike melted away in the warmth of her smile. Though she hardly needed it, her grades and her athletic ability won her a scholarship to any college she wanted. She picked Harvard, because it was as far from her home in California as she could get. College was little change for Renee. She was still beloved by everyone who knew her, still got the highest marks in all her classes, and was still the star of the basketball team. It was the last game of the season of her junior year, against Yale. They were at 40-41, and two seconds from the end of the game. Tanya threw Renee a good pass and Renee took a desperate shot from the three-point line. And swished it. The crowd went nuts, and her teammates raced out to lift her on their shoulders and carry her back to the locker room for a well-deserved shower. Afterwards, she went out with them to celebrate long into the night. She never touched beer or anything less high-class than good wine, but she knew how to have fun, and people gravitated automatically to her. Finally at two o' clock, Renee called it quits and headed back to her apartment. Her roomie, Lauren, had left awhile ago. She preferred quiet to loud parties and had gotten a headache from the loud music in the club. "Hey, Ray! Walk you home?" Darren Filmore asked her. She smiled knowingly. He had a crush on her. She liked him well enough, but she was serious about her relationships and she just didn't feel like that for him. It would be cruel to lead him on. "That's sweet of you Darren but I think I'll be just fine," she said gently. "Why don't you ask Jen if you can walk her back to her dorm. She's had a lot to drink." Darren looked a little disappointed, but smiled back and went to ask Jen if she wanted his company. She did. Renee looked after them, satisfied that she'd salvaged the situation, shrugged on her coat, and left. It was dark outside. The moon was only a slivery, and it was a chilly and windy. She walked quickly, her heels click-clacking on the pavement. It would have been faster to take a cab, but she had had a deathly fear of cars since her parents had been killed. She could tolerate buses, and had no problem with planes or trains, but she avoided cars nearly at all costs. She started at the coincidence when a car pulled up beside her. The captain of the men's basketball team leaned out the window. "Well, well, if it isn't Renee Jackson," he said with a grin that was almost a leer. Renee shivered a little. He gave her the creeps sometimes. She forced herself to smile frostily. "Good evening, Jordan," she said, and started to continue on. "Wanna lift?" Jordan called after her. She stopped in her tracks and turned around. "No, thank you. It's a lovely night to walk," she lied glibly. There was something…wrong. She smiled again, stiffly and hurried towards her apartment. Four seconds later she heard footsteps behind her and she ran. She was faster, but not fast enough. Jordan caught up with his long strides barely needing to jog. He gripped her shoulder like an iron claw, forcing her to stop. She tensed, frightened. "Get in the car," he hissed in her ear softly. "Please let me go," she said, managing to keep her voice steady. "You're hurting me." His grip moved like lightening from her shoulder to her throat. "I said," he said in a dangerous tone, "get in the damn car." He was squeezing just hard enough to make sure she knew he could crush her windpipe in a second, but not hard enough to actually leave any marks when he decided to let her go. Renee nodded hurried, not trying to talk. Fear was building up inside her like a scream. He pushed her harshly down the sidewalk and all but threw her inside his BMW.
He drove her to a deserted dirt road. Renee had no idea where they were but wish to God she was somewhere—anywhere—else. Jordan stopped the engine, leaving them in total darkness for a moment until he switched on the dim inside light. In that instant of inattention, Renee tried to bolt, grabbing wildly at the door handle. Jordan seemed unconcerned by the sudden movement and she soon found out why. She couldn't get the door open. "Power locks," he explained amicably, running his fingers through his brown hair. "A little pricey, I admit, but I've found them well worth the expense." Renee gazed back at him with the eyes of a trapped animal. He looked her up and down and she instantly felt filthy. "What are you going to do to me?" she managed. Jordan smiled a smile that was as close to pure evil as Renee had ever seen. "Come now, Ray, I know you're not that naïve." He reached forward to unbutton her blouse. Renee instantly raised hand to claw at his eyes while bringing her knee up to ram him in the groin, but he was too fast. In an instant he was on her, his weight immobilizing her knee, one hand at her throat and the other gripped her wrist with force she though would shatter it. She gasped for air. He put his mouth to her ear and whispered in a voice that was a mockery of gentleness. "Don't try it." She felt his hot breath caress her cheek. "I've taken martial arts since I was five," he continued silkily. "I could snap your neck before you could even scream. And no one would ever know. If you fight me, I'll kill you. Later. If you don't…you'll live. But either way, I'll get what I want." He let go of her and she took in great gulps of air. He waited for her to calm herself a little before reach out again to unbutton her blouse. She tensed, her heart racing with fear, but she didn't move. "At last," he said. "You refused me once before. Oh yes, you were too good for someone like me. The lovely Renee Jackson. So perfect, so dainty. So picky. Frosty the Snow Queen. Every time you breathe you break hearts. You broke mine. Nobody breaks mine. I'll have you, though. I'll posses what you deny so many others. Oh yes, Ray, I'll break you like a wild mare and make you as docile as a child's pony." He stroked her cheek with the back of one finger. She snarled at him, wanting to spit in his face but not daring it. He shook his head at her. "Ah, you have need of lessons, my wild one." He kissed her harshly and she struggled only weakly. Helplessness closed overwhelmed her like a suffocating cloud of smoke. She closed her eyes tightly and tears rolled down her cheeks, but she made no sound. Later, when he was done with her, he said, "Get dressed. You got a comb and makeup in your purse?" She nodded, terrified of what might be to come. "Use them," he ordered. "Get yourself all nice and neat again. We don't want you wandering in looking messed up, now do we?" She did as he said, hating herself for it. When she was finished, Jordan nodded approvingly. "Good, you look fresh and beautiful again. Now," he said, putting an obscenely friendly arms around her. "We need to chat." "I know the moment I let you go, you're going to run to the police or someone. So let's get this straight: You're not going to do that. Do you know why?" "Because you'll kill me if I say anything, right?" Renee said venomously. "Isn't that the way it usually works?" Jordan frowned at her. "Ah, Ray, do you think me so unsubtle? I know better than that. You'll count on the police to protect you, and even if they don't, you'd rather risk your own life than let me get away with this. Say, let me ask you something. Your roommate, Lauren. She's you're best friend, isn't she?" "No…" Renee whispered. Everyone knew that she and Lauren were indeed best friends. Despite being complete opposites, the two girls loved each other like sisters. "Please, no…" Jordan smiled depravedly. "You'll risk yourself, but I don't think you'll risk her. So here's the deal. If you say anything, Lauren will pay. Even if the police got to me first, I have friends who, the instant anything suspicious happens to me, will do to Lauren what I have done to you. And, I promise you, they won't be as gentle about it. However, you would remain quite alive and unharmed. Renee's stomach churned at the thought of young, sweet, innocent Lauren going through such a thing. Lauren was two years her junior. She was gentle and soft and kind, always thinking the best of everyone, always finding the good in any situation, always ready to help with everything. "I swear," Renee said shakily. "I won't say anything. Just don't hurt Lauren. I'll do anything." Jordan grinned. "You keep your end of the bargain, and I'll keep mine." He drove her back to her apartment. "I'll be in touch," he said, letting her out and driving off. Renee dragged herself upstairs and crawled into her bed, curling into a fetal ball, and cried until she feel asleep. She awoke in the morning, only a few hours later, to Lauren shaking her. "You'd better get up, Ray. You've got classes." Chocolate brown eyes peered out at her from under chestnut bangs. The expression on her elfin face was worried. "God, you look awful. You alright?" "Sick," Renee mumbled, burrowing under the covers. She couldn't face her friend. "I'll bet," Lauren said. "Sick," Renee repeated. "Not hungover. Just stomach flu. Need rest." Lauren nodded. "Do you want me to stay home?" she asked, concerned. "No," Renee said quickly. "You go to class. I'll be fine. Just need some sleep." "You're sure?" Lauren asked, unconvinced. "I don't have any tests today, so it's not a problem if I skip. You look like you need someone to take care of you." Renee waved her off. "Go. I'll probably sleep all day anyway. Thanks." Lauren agreed to leave reluctantly, and only after making Renee some peppermint tea to soothe her stomach. Once Lauren was gone, Renee managed to get herself out of bed and into the shower. She felt so dirty, and an hour of scrubbing didn't make her feel any cleaner. She burned with shame. The next day she had to go back to classes. She transferred immediately out of the three classes she shared with Jordan, even though it made her getting her double major in economics and business that much harder. She was careful never to be alone for more than a moment, and did her best to stick with groups of people she knew well. After a month passed, she began to think that Jordan might just leave her alone. After all, he had what he wanted, didn't he? Then, all of sudden, as she was darting frantically from one class to another, he stepped out from nowhere. She was so frightened she nearly screamed before remembering herself. He looked at her with dark eyes. "You've been avoiding me, Renee," he said. "Oh, not that I blame you, but let's not have any more of it, alright. Now, I'd like to see you tonight. Pick you up around ten, outside the library? Try to wear something…nice." With that he was gone, leaving Renee in an agony of fear. But she did as he said. She despised herself for it, but what choice did she have? Better her than Lauren. Jordan contacted her about once every two weeks, sometimes more often. Each time, he demanded more. At first he was content as long as she didn't try to kill him. Then he started to insist that she be responsive towards him, even seductive at times. And she did it. God forgive her, but she did it. Jordan had a girlfriend, of course. He doted on her constantly in public. The message was clear: Reese was who he loved. Renee he kept only for the pleasure of having power over her. He owned her and she meant less to him than his toothbrush. She wondered what would happen when he got tired of her. He was often rough, but always careful not to leave marks on her. At least, not anywhere where they were likely to be seen. It was bad, but she endured. She had to. The worst came when he had her sufficiently well 'trained'. He brought two of his buddies along to show them how he'd tamed the untouchable Renee and let them have their fun with her. She never saw their faces and it never happened again. She suspected because they weren't nearly so careful as Jordan and she had bruises to explain away the next day. Her schoolwork plummeted, and her personality changed entirely. She numbed her heart to everything so she wouldn't feel the pain. It only sort of worked. Naturally, Lauren noticed the change immediately, but Renee began to withdraw from her, even to actively push her away. The further Lauren was from her, the better, though Renee knew it wouldn't do much to protect her. Jordan knew she still cared for her friend. More than once, Renee contemplated killing herself, but the implied threat was that if she ended her own life or transferred to another school, Lauren would still suffer the consequences. She couldn't afford to risk it. Jordan let her off later than usual one night. "Let's work on getting your grades up, Ray," he'd said casually. "People are getting suspicious." As she stumbled to her door, a stoner she knew only vaguely came up to her. "Hey, girl," she said, clearly high on something. "Ya look real unhappy an' tired an' sick like. Here, try some a' this. No charge." She held out a plastic baggie of white powder. "Make ya feel all nice inside. Make the pain go 'way." Renee had a strict policy of avoiding drugs and people who used them, but this time she hesitated. "It'll make the pain go away?" she asked urgently. "Tha's right," the girl said. "Ya could chop your own arm off an' not feel nothing. Your boyfriend could say he hates ya an' all your gonna feel is happy an' numb. It's miracle stuff." Renee hurriedly took the bag before she could change her mind. "Thanks," she said. "Doan mention it, honey. An' if ya like it, just let me know an' I can git ya plenty more." Renee thanked her again and hurried inside with her prize. When Jordan called four days later, she was ready. She inhaled the stuff just before he picked her up. True to the girl's word, not only didn't Renee not feel anything, she actually felt pretty good the whole time. What happened didn't matter because she wasn't even in her body. What did she care? Jordan knew she'd taken something. Jordan knew everything. He didn't say anything, just counted it another victory against her. When she came down off the high, she felt wretched, of course. But it wasn't that much worse that a bad hangover, and far better than not having taken anything. Renee resolved only to take the drugs when she absolutely had to. She had that much rationality left. It was a battle of willpower in between, but she was determined that she would not get addicted. She switched around to different substances, hoping to keep from getting dependent on any one. She tried everything she could get her hands on that wasn't strictly hallucinogenic or required sticking herself with needles. Money wasn't a problem. Jordan knew her by now, and he knew she'd try to keep herself as clean as possible. So he started calling her every other day for a month, forcing her to take something more and more often. Then he left her alone for another month, in hopes that by that time she'd be completely hooked. It worked. No one can take drugs every other day for that long without getting addicted. What he didn't count on was the strength of her willpower. He thought he had her totally broken, and he was almost correct. But not entirely. What little was left in her power to control, she controlled with a vengeance. She steadfastly refused to take anything except when she had to. The withdrawal over that month was horrible, more painful than anything she could have imagined. It was so tempting to just give into the compulsion and take something, anything, but she didn't. She couldn't. She wouldn't give Jordan the satisfaction. After that, every time she took something, no matter how small or infrequently, she went through a bad withdrawal. Another thing Renee could control was what she did (or didn't) eat. So she stopped eating. Not entirely, of course. She ate just enough to keep herself alive, but nothing more. She did manage to get her grade up again, solely by throwing herself completely and totally into her work. It let her forget, temporarily, what was happening to her.
At one class, just before midterms, she had gotten behind in taking notes. She was so concentrated on catching up that she failed to realize that the professor had stopped speaking. Suddenly, she felt ahand on her shoulder. "Hello," said a male voice. Renee jumped, let out a strangle shriek, and then cringed. "Woah!" said the name, removed his hand and coming into view. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. You were so caught up in your work that you didn't respond when I called your name." He sat down in the chair next to her, at a non-threatening distance. . Renee allowed herself a sigh of relief. She didn't remember his name, but he was in this class. He sat on the other side of the room, two rows up, and he had always struck her as a nice guy. Though, she knew from experience, looks could be cruelly deceiving. He gave her a long look and she shuddered reflexively. "Are you alright?" he asked, sounding as if he actually cared. "You looked like you thought I was going to hit you or something." His eyes were dark, like Jordan's. But where Jordan's were coldly intelligent and sadistically malicious, his were softly expressive and gentle, sparkling with good humor and clouded with concern. For her. "I'm fine," she said, scrambling to remember how to be charming and gracious. "Can I help you with something?" He smiled, a nice, open, nothing-to-hide smile. "I'm afraid we got off to a bad start," he said in a light baritone. He took her hand to shake it. "Hi, I'm Richard Palmer." She recoiled instinctively, and then hid her reaction with an only half-feigned smile. He noticed, but said nothing. "Renee Jackson," she replied, tucking a stand of hair behind one ear. He grinned at her rakishly, dimples showing. "That's better," he said. "I was just wondering if I could copy your notes. The Window seems to have eaten mine." He gestured helplessly to the window that, through a well-known quirk of Professor Hickman's, was open 365 days a year, rain, shine, or sixty knot winds that blew papers around, and often entirely out of, the classroom. Professor Hickman's class was not, for obvious reasons, a popular one. However, for some inexplicable reason, required for almost every major. No one could quite say why. Renee shrugged and handed him her notes. He flashed her another grin and then proceeded to copy them with remarkable speed. Handing them back to her and bowing deeply, he said, "Thank you, my Lady, for your kindness and unfailing generousity." Renee smiled in spite of herself. "Ah, you have a smile like the sun," Richard said. "Perhaps you would allow me the great honor of buying you a cup of coffee?" Renee shook her head. "No!" She surprised herself with her vehemence. "No, thank you," she amended more softly. She'd actually found herself liking him. Liking a strange man who was obviously interested in her. How could she even think such a thing? Richard shrugged and smiled, his seemingly genuine warmth not decreasing in the face of rejection. "I shall see you tomorrow, then, my Lady." He gave a little wave and turned to go. It was at that moment that Renee realized that while they were talking, the classroom had emptied completely. She would have to walk home alone. "Wait!" she called hastily. Richard turned in the doorway, brushing his light brown hair off his face. "Coffee sounds…nice," she lied. In this case, it was better the devil she didn't know than risk meeting the one she did. Richard's face broke into a smile. "Great! I know this awesome place…" He waited for her to gather up her stuff, looking as though he wanted to help her on with her coat, but didn't dare. He held the door for her and acted like a perfect gentleman all the way to the café. When they got there, he pulled her chair out for her. "Plain coffee?" he asked. "Two sugars, if you please." "Okay! I'm going to have a cinnamon bun, too. They're the best. Do you want one? I'll get you one!" He was off to place their orders before she could protest. He returned moments later juggling two steaming mugs of fragrant brew and two enormous, icing covered cinnamon buns. He set them on the table and took his seat, still grinning. Slowly, carefully, he drew her into a trivial conversation. She shied away from questions about herself, so he talked about his life and let her make comments at her own pace. She found out he was a "wholesome, church-going boy" who wanted to be a writer. That accounted for the immediately apparently romanticism. "You haven't touched your bun," he pointed out, after wolfing down more than half of his. "Oh, I'm not hungry," she said quickly. "Nonsense," he said. "I saw you in the cafeteria this morning. All you had was milk. You must be starved." "Well, the calories. You know," she said lamely. "Calories! You're too skinny as it is. It looks like you're going to blow away! Come on, my Lady. It'll do you good." She shook her head weakly. "Look at it," he said persuasively. "It's beautiful, delicious, enticing. A work of art. Do you know how much trouble someone went through to make that? And they made it just for you. It would be horribly ungrateful not to eat it. Why, in some countries it's a mortal insult to refuse. You could even get called out to a duel for it. Are you really willing the chance it, all to avoid eating one, little dessert." He looked at her with a gravity that was ridiculous, given the topic. Renee laughed. It was only a very small laugh, and it slipped out before she could stop it, but it was definitely a laugh. She hadn't laughed in months. "You're crazy," she told him. But she ate the cinnamon bun. Richard walked her back to her apartments. "Oh, here!" she said suddenly, digging through her purse. "I know I have enough money in here to pay you back for the coffee and roll…" "Renee," he said patiently. "When I said I wanted to buy you coffee, I actually meant it. I won't take your money." "No, I insist," Renee said determinedly. "I don't want to owe you anything." "Owe me…" Richard repeated in disbelief. "I didn't asked you out for coffee because I wanted anything from you! I only wanted the pleasure of buying you a snack. And in addition to that, I got to see you smiled, hear you laugh, and have a nice conversation with you." "And if I hadn't been good company?" Renee asked stiffly. "Would still feel like it was worth your while?" "Yes," he said firmly. "Because I would still have had the pleasure of knowing that you got a break, and that you got some food in that stick-thin body of yours." Renee found her defenses and objections slipping away, and it scared the hell out of her. Richard took her hand gently and she managed not to jerk away. "Thank you, fairest of all ladies, for your company and your smile. I pray our paths may cross again in the near future." He kissed the back of her hand softly, and walked away. Renee ran upstairs and locked her door, heart pounding. It had been so long since she felt this way, she couldn't even remember, really. But no! She couldn't see him again. Anyone and anything near her was at risk, and she wouldn't do that to someone she hated, much less someone she found herself liking the tiniest bit. She trusted this strange man, for no reason at all, and that shocked her. She had better steer clear of him all together. It would better for them both. Besides, nothing could happen, not while Jordan was… She refused to finish the thought. Richard smiled at her every time he saw her, and tried to talk to her, and passed her notes in class which warmed her frozen heart, but that she refused to acknowledge in any way. A week or so later, she found herself alone, trying to get from her apartment to her next class. She was completely vulnerable and, predicatably, she saw Jordan heading for her. She trembled, feeling sick. Then, out of nowhere, Richard appeared. He placed himself firmly between Renee and Jordan, carefully not looking at the other man, but instead insistently and firmly demanding Renee's full attention. Jordan vanished. Renee calmed down. She knew she'd pay for the incident later, but now she was glad he was gone. "I didn't like the way he looked at you," Richard explained. "He's always watching you…like a vulture or a hyena. What's going on between you two? "You shouldn't have done that," Renee told him, ignoring the question. "Are so saying you didn't want me to?" he pressed. "Yes! No." Renee made a sound frustration. "I'm saying you shouldn't have." "Hey, you look really shaken up. How about we blow off our next classes and go for walk. Window shopping in town, maybe." Renee agreed after a little convincing. She wasn't sure she could have faced her next class anyway. Over the next few months, Renee found herself spending more and more time with Richard. He seemed to just show up whenever Jordan was around. Renee wondered if he was following her, and found the thought bizzarely comforting. One day, February 14th, as it happened, he popped out from behind a tree bearing a bouquet of flowers. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways," he recited, sinking down on one knee and holding the flowers out to her. Renee blushed scarlet. "What—" she began. "I love you, Renee Jackson," he said. "I have been in love with you from the first second I saw you across campus, and am absolutely crazy in love with you now. Say you'll be my Valentine, and the world will be ours forever!" His writer's nature was showing again. Renee's heart skipped a beat. She forced herself to say, "No," in a freezing tone, turn around, and walk away. "I know you love me!" Richard called after her, undaunted. "You'll realize it sooner or later!" Renee did not allow herself to dwell on that possibility. It wasn't a possibility. Why did he have to be so wonderful? She didn't deserve it, and she certainly couldn't have it. Wasn't Jordan's torture enough? Did she have to endure Richard's torture as well? For well intentioned and loving though it was, it was torture just the same, the torture of feeling as though she could see and touch her salvation from the worst hell imaginable, but knowing that she would never, ever, be saved. Two weeks later, she found him perched in the tree outside her apartment, serenading her with "It's Only A Paper Moon". His voice was fantastic. "You're making a fool of yourself!" Renee hissed at him. "Say you love me and I'll stop." She didn't want him to stop. "Look, you don't understand." "Explain it to me, then. I'm a very sensitive, understanding, clean-cut man with plenty of prospects, who loves it mother." "I can't!" She was on the verge of breaking down. "Please, stop this. I can't bear it. I can bear anything but this. I can't explain it, so please don't ask. Just don't try to make me fall in love with you…please." Her blue-gray eyes begged him silently. He backed off, hurt but more concerned for her, and more determined than ever not to give up. That night, Jordan said to her, "You seem to have captured the heart of that Palmer fellow. You care for him, don't you?" "Jordan, don't," she whispered. He laughed cruelly. "I'm not going to," he assured her. "You can see him as often as you want. I won't hurt him or Lauren or even you for it. Go on, do what ever you want with him. Sleep with him, even, though I know you won't. Your standards are too high for that, and I don't seem to have broken you of it. But go on, have your fun with Richard Palmer. I won't stand in your way." Renee took this in. "Why?" she asked quietly. He grinned sadistically. "Because, I find it rather amusing. He'll have your heart, even your love maybe. But I, I have your body, your will, and your soul. You belong to me, and we both know it. Anything you have with him will be mockery as long as I own you. And I know how you hate mockeries." Her skin crawled with loathing and she swallowed the lump of despair in her throat which seemed to get bigger with each passing day. She ran all the way home. She knew she should stop seeing Richard. It only caused them both pain, and gave Jordan satisfaction. But she couldn't stay away from him. Richard was the only light in her life, and she couldn't let go of him any more than a drowning man could let go of his one and only life preserver simply to avoid giving the sharks the satisfaction of knowing he was afraid they would eat him. To hell with what the sharks thought, hold on to the life preserver and pray you got rescued soon. Although Renee very carefully never allowed even the hint of a hope to enter her mind. She couldn't tell Richard that she loved him, because she couldn't really admit it to herself. Love was too foreign a concept for her now. It was as distant as kindness and gentleness had become. Though Richard was teaching her those things again, she still couldn't handle the idea of being in love with a man. There were moments when she couldn't handle the idea of being anywhere near a man, even if the man was Richard. Her eyes, however, her haunted, frightened, lost eyes, told him of her love and need as eloquently as any words could have. He knew that, for the moment, it would have to be enough. He knew something was desperately wrong in her life, anyone could see that and he was more observant than most. But each time he tried to find out, he hit a wall that could not be breached. And he knew if he tried, he would only drive her further away until she might never let her secret, what ever it was, go. At least, he thought, he had gotten her eating again. One evening at dinner, Renee accidentally knocked her purse off the table. Being a gentleman, Rich sprang to gather up the scattered contents before she could think to stop him. She he heard him fall silently and then ask in a dangerous voice, "Renee, why is this in your purse?" He held up a little bag of stuff. She looked away, unable to face him. "Renee, this is crack!" he exclaimed. "I know," she whispered almost inaudibly. "But why—" "Richard, it's not what it looks like, okay?" Tears began to form in her eyes. "Please, just trust me. I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. You don't understand." Her watch beeped then. "I have to go," she choked through her tears. "Please, just give me that bag." He shook his head slowly, taking all this in. "No. I won't let you do this to yourself." "Richard," she sobbed. "I need it, I really do. You can't understand this." "I do understand, Renee," he soothed. "I really do. And we can get over this. There are people who can help, if you let them. I can help if you let them. I'm not going to leave you because of this, I promise. But I'm not going to give you your drugs back and let you go off and destroy yourself." His voice was firm. "Richard, you're dead wrong," she told him. "Please, give them to me." "Renee, look at yourself! You're showing all the signs. I love you too much to let you throw your life away." She cringed at the word 'love', like whipped dog. "You can't understand," she wailed again, and ran out of the restaurant, down three blocks, and into Jordan's waiting car.
When she stumbled home, crying with both the physical and emotional pain, and the shame at the way her body had once again betrayed her, Richard was waiting for her at the door to her building, pacing back and forth anxiously. "Renee, I need to know what's going on. At first I thought the drugs were your secret, but that's obviously not it, and it's not like you anyway. You're too smart for that. None of it makes sense. You on crack, Jordan all but stalking you and you taking it, and you actually getting in a car. You're terrified of cars, you told me so yourself. It doesn't fit, and I think you've kept me in the dark long enough…" He trailed off as she stepped into the light of the street lamp and he caught sight of her tear-streaked face, twisted in misery. "Renee…" he breathed, horrified. "What happened to you?" She shook her head. "It's nothing," she choked. "I'm going to bed." "Can I come up?" Something was obviously even more wrong than he had considered. "Lauren's sleeping," Renee protested. "Lauren is in Chile with the rest of her botany class and won't be back until tomorrow," Richard said. "Come on, I'll take you up." He could see it in her eyes that if he even looked like he was going to touch her, she would lose it, so he led her up the stairs without doing what he most wanted to do, which was scoop her into his arms and never let her go. "Now," he said, sitting her down on the couch. "Tell me what happened." It took a Herculean effort for him to keep his voice calm and steady and reassuring, and he was only able to do it because he knew she needed it. Renee found she didn't have the strength to resist his persistent, loving, compassion any longer. She was just too weak and too worn. She broke down into awful, gasping sobs that wracked her whole body. Richard sensed the moment was right and pulled her into his arms, holding her shaking form tightly to his chest and murmuring comforting nothings in her ear. She couldn't fight his embrace, though every rational part of her screamed that she should. She needed it too much to be able to reject it, even if she had wanted to. It had been so very long since anyone, anyone at all, had touched her out of love…it had surely been an eternity. The feeling of warmth and caring was so alien to her now, and yet she craved it so much. He held her until her crying had subsided to a manageable sniffle, and then the story poured out of her. She tried desperately to stop herself from telling him, knowing it was a virtual death sentence for Lauren, but try as she might, she told him everything. Not the details, of course, those were far too shameful and humiliating for her even to remember consciously, much less speak of to anyone. But everything from the moment Jordan had first grabbed her until that evening. Richard was incoherent with rage, uttering words even she had never heard before. "That bastard! I'll kill him myself, I swear it! I would say death is too good for him, but I know that there is a special hell for people like him, with its own little corner where he will have to experience everything he ever did to you from now until the end of time!" He started out the door, literally ready to find Jordan and kill him, forget the consequences. Renee's voice stopped him. "No! You can't!" she said urgently. "You can't do anything! Don't you understand a word I said? They'll kill Lauren if someone else finds out what he's doing to me! If they found out I told you…" She shuddered, the picture vivid in her mind. "Lauren's out of the country," he remind her. "If we go to the police now, Jordan and his friends will be in jail before she even gets back." "But we don't know who they are! They could be anyone, he knows literally everyone in the school. Even the police can't protect against what they don't know." "But I thought you said they—" "I did. They did. But they were masked, Richard. I never saw who they were." Tears began to flow again. He pulled her back into his arms and once again she didn't have the will to resist. "Oh, Ray-nay. I am so sorry. I knew something was wrong. I should have found out sooner. I can't believe I let this go on all this time, and I didn't even know…Oh baby, I should have paid more attention to how much pain you were in, and less to what I wanted. I've been an idiot, and you've paid a higher price than the devil himself should ever have to. I should have believed you earlier tonight, I should have done something…How could I let this happen to you when I claim I love you. You must hate me… I was so wrong." "It's not your fault, it's mine," Renee whimpered, still quivering. "I deserve this, it's my punishment for not being good enough. I hurt Jordan, and I have to pay. I brought this on myself…you shouldn't be upset with yourself." "No!" Richard said sharply, horrified. "Look at me! This is not your fault. You are not in any way shape or form responsible for this, do you understand me?" She nodded miserably, not believing it. "Jordan is a sick, perverted SOB, and he's trying to destroy you. You are not to blame for this. He, and only he, is. He wants to shatter you completely, but we're not going to let him." We. Suddenly, inexplicably, Renee was not alone anymore. The tone of voice in which Richard had said 'we' made it quite clear that he considered her problem, his problem, and that he was not going anywhere until she was safe. It was an overawing feeling. "Here's what we're going to do," he continued. "I'm going to find out who Jordan's friends are. Most of the people he hangs out with aren't that nice, but they wouldn't stand for what he's doing to you. No decent human being would. It won't be too hard to find out who they are, and I did pass investigative journalism with honors. Once I know for certain who they are, you, me, and Lauren are going to go to the police. Together. "We'll get them to put you and Lauren in protective custody, while they go after Jordan and his lackeys. Even if the police are slow, they won't be able to get either of you. And then this nightmare will be over." Renee nodded, scared out of her wits. Richard kissed the top of her head. "My poor love…how could anyone do this to you? How could anyone do something like this to my wonderful, beautiful Ray-nay? "I won't let them hurt you any more. Never again, my Ray-nay, never, ever, again." "I'm so tired," she said in the ghost of a whisper. "So, so tired, for so long." "I know, Ray-nay. Sleep now." "I can't…" she said. "Hush, hush, my darling. Just close your eyes and I'll protect you." He began to sing in his lovely, rich baritone. "When you feel all alone, Let me be the one you call When you feel all alone Let me be the one you call Because there has always been heartache and pain When you feel all alone Let me be the one you call Renee fell asleep in his arms, and Richard stayed awake until late, watching her. He finally drifted off near dawn. They both woke with start around mid-morning when the phone rang. Fearfully, Renee answered. She went white as a sheet, whispered 'yes', and hung up. "That was him, wasn't it?" Richard asked angrily. Renee nodded. "Reese finally got fed up with him and dumped him two days ago. He's been taking it out on me. He wants me to meet him tonight…" She trailed off. "You can't go!" Richard exploded. "Tell him you're sick, tell him…tell him anything! Just stall him until I can find out who his friends are." Renee shook her head sadly. "Jordan's smart, Richard, and he knows me. He'll know something is up, and I…we can't risk it. And he has…he has a power over me. It's a kind of power that only a woman who's been through something like this can understand. I can't lie to him." "But—" She cut him off. "I've been going through this basically every week for more than a year. The only difference between today and yesterday is that now you know. Nothing else has changed. Please, don't make it any harder on me than it already is." Richard swallowed and nodded. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the bag of crack he'd taken from her. "Take it," he said. "It'll keep you from feeling it." Renee took a long look at the bag and then took it from him. She held it for a moment and then tossed it in the wastebasket across the room. "I don't…I don't need it anymore," she said, though her body craved the contents of the bag. They sat there together, all day. Renee basked in the feeling of no longer being alone. When evening came and she had to leave, Richard dared to kiss her for the first time. She jerked away at first and then responded to him like someone in the desert responds to an oasis. He broke it off quickly, knowing that going any further would only make her hate him later. He couldn't take advantage of her present condition. That would be as wrong as what Jordan was doing, in a different way. "I love you, Ray-nay," he said. "I'll be here when you get back." Renee nodded, but still couldn't bring herself to say the words. He looked at her with understanding and she tore herself away. She was gone for hours, and when she got back, she was determinedly not crying. There were rapidly rising bruises down her neck to the collar of her shirt and from her knee up to the bottom of her shorts. Richard guessed there were more he couldn't see and the only thing that kept him from going out and hunting Jordan down like an animal was that it would put the woman he loved and her best friend in mortal danger it. Even then, it was hard to restrain himself. "I'll never go through that again," she said in a voice that was cold steel. "I can't do it, I'll kill myself first. Promise me you'll protect Lauren, okay?" "Don't talk like that…" Richard said. "I'll make sure you don't have to. It's over. You'll never have to let him near you again. You need to go to the hospital…" "No! I'll be alright. I just need a shower and I'll be fine," she lied badly. "He's been rough before…" The truth was, he'd never been that rough before, ever. She wanted to die so badly. It took Richard a week to find out who Jordan's cohorts were. He came running breathlessly up to Renee as she stumbled out of class. "Hafiz Siddig and John Harrison," he blurted out. "That's who they are. They're both on the basketball team." Renee let out a long breath. "I don't think I can do this. But I guess I have to. Alright, let's go explain things to Lauren." Richard nodded and they walked back to her apartment in heavy silence. She pushed open the front door. "Lauren?" she called. "I need to talk to you!" There was no answer. The apartment was silent. "Are you sure she's home?" Richard asked. "Positive. Maybe she's taking nap." "I'll check," he said, heading down the hallway to Lauren's room. Renee noticed that the bathroom door was closed. So that's where she was. But the 'occupied' sign they used wasn't up, and she didn't hear water running. She knocked but there was no answer. She opened the door slowly…and screamed at what she saw. Richard came running. "Wha—Oh my God!" Lauren was lying in the bathtub, in a pool of blood. She'd slit her wrists almost to the bone. Renee knelt by her friend and felt for a pulse at her neck. It was there, but very faint. "Call an ambulance!" she yelled, but Richard was already at the phone. "Come on, Lauren," she cajoled, as she tried to stop the blood flow with a towel. "Hold on, girl." Lauren's lids flickered open at the sound of her voice and her glassy eyes focused on Renee with difficulty. A slow smile of satisfaction spread across her face. "I did it," she croaked weakly. "I didn't think I'd have the courage to do it, but I did. You're free now, Ray…" "Nooo!" Renee wailed, but it was too late. Lauren was gone. Renee grabbed at the first thing she laid hands on and flung it away from her as hard as she could. Soap dish shattered mirror and the shards flew everywhere, some embedding themselves in Renee's face like shrapnel. Little rivulets of blood ran down her cheeks, mingling with the tears and making it look like she was crying blood. Next to go was the hairdryer. It just missed Richard as he came running at the sound of her cry. The curling iron winged him and then hit the wall with force enough to shatter the tiles. Richard reached Renee and reluctantly wrestled her to the ground as she dove for the bloody razor blade. He couldn't her hurt herself any more. The rage went out of her and she collapsed into a quivering wreck, a she should have long ago. He held her shoulders as she wept, her tears and blood mixing with Lauren's. When the paramedics arrived, they tended to Renee's wounds and then called the police to investigate the suicide. They were the ones who found the note on Lauren's dresser. "Dear Renee," it said. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. A year ago you started changing, and I didn't know what do to. You got cold and distant and you were jumpy all the time. You stopped talking to me about anything and you always looked afraid. Finally, it got so bad that I read your diary. I hated to do it, but I couldn't let things go on like that. I can't believe what Jordan did to you. I tried everything to stop it. I even went to him and offered myself in your place, but he didn't want me. He said he's kill you if I told anyone. This is the only way. He won't have way to force you anymore, once I'm gone. I'm so sorry I wasn't brave enough to find out what was happening earlier and stop it. I love you. Lauren." Renee crumpled the letter, anger and pain warring on her face. "Richard, go get the police chief. This ends now."
They took her down to the station to answer questions and make a statement. Richard went with her; he had to answer questions himself. The questioning was hard on Renee. She had to tell the whole, humiliating, frightening story to people she didn't even know, in a strange place. She flat out refused to have a male in the room, and it was a stroke of luck that the DA was a woman. Renee emerged from the little interrogation room four hours later, worn, pale, and in complete emotional shock. Richard went to her, but her body language screamed 'no touching'. "I gave them a statement and deposition," she said blankly. "They're going to arrest Jordan and his friend. They say my word and Lauren's not may not be enough unless they can get one of his buddies to break and turn him in, in exchange for a deal. They say it looks good…they want me to testify." "Oh Ray-nay." "I don't think I can…" "Sit down, darling," he said, guiding her to a chair. "They might have enough evidence with you. And if you can't do it, then you can't, and that's it. They'll have to make due with your statement and depo." He handed her a chocolate bar from the snack machine. "You should eat something. You skipped breakfast and lunch." She waved the food away. "I can't." "Renee…" "I really can't/" "Please, Ray-nay." She forced down half, to please him, but she refused dinner that night. Jordan, Hafiz, and John were caught, brought in, and interrogated. As the police had hoped, both of Jordan's friends immediately turned on him. Between that and Renee's statement and diary, and Lauren's letter, things were looking good for a conviction. But the DA still wanted Renee to testify, to make absolutely sure the case was sealed. Renee agreed, terrified of facing the trial, but more terrified at the possibility of Jordan going free. Leslie Michaels, the prosecuting attorney, was very gentle with her, asking her only to tell the story, from the beginning, in her own words. Renee glanced at Richard for support. "Love you, Ray-nay," he mouthed silently. She swallowed hard and began. She spoke simply and honestly, telling the tale in the most matter-of-fact way she could, and trying to disassociate herself from the words. Somehow, she managed to get through it. The story plainly shocked and horrified everyone in the room. The judge, a kindly, cherub-faced man, shot her grandfatherly looks of compassion. The looks on the faces of the jurors ranged from anger to sickness to disbelief. Two of the women had tears of sympathy in their eyes. "Thank you, Ms. Jackson," Leslie said, touching Renee's arm lightly. The defense attorney was a fat, middle-aged man, who was interested only in getting Jordan off so that Jordan's father would pay him lots of money. He was, perhaps, the only person in the court who wasn't moved by her testimony. His cross-examination was brutal, leaving Renee red-faced with shame, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. He even tried to place the blame for Lauren's death on Renee, until the judge reprimanded him severely. "Jordan treated me like a piece of property, like a toy," Renee said bitterly through her tears. "He raped me, he threatened me, and he tried to get me to kill myself. He lacks even the tiniest shred of human decency. And so, sir, do you." She stared at him, her gray-blue eye ablaze. "Your Honor, the prosecution rests!" Leslie said, in a complete breech of protocol. When court was dismissed for the day, Renee had to walk past Jordan to get out. "Hello, Ray," he said insolently. "You look stunning. Black really is your color." He ran his eyes over her in a knowing way, like a butcher sizing up a piece of meat. It was as though he could see right through her clothing. Renee snapped. She lunged forward and, before anyone could register what was happening, grabbed the guard's gun. Without a conscious thought, Renee aimed and fired at Jordan, point-blank range. The shot sounded deafening, and blood exploded from Jordan's chest. Everything stood still and silent for one instant. Then everything came back in a rush. Jordan fell, a look of shock on his face. Renee dropped the gun as though it were a snake. Everyone was talking. One of the guards grabbed her, and she screamed in terror. "Let her go!" Richard yelled, pushing through the crowd to reach her. "Let her go, let her go!" He pulled the guard off her and drew Renee protectively into his arms, sheltering her from the guards with his body and daring anyone to lay a hand on her. An impenetrable bubble seemed to surround them as the action went on around. Jordan was taken somewhere, the police came, and the bystanders were hustled out. Finally, they came for Renee. "No!" Richard said sharply. "You can't take her…she can't handle it." "Sir, she shot a man," said the stern officer. "We're required to arrest her." "You'll have to get through me first," Richard growled. The officer stepped forward threateningly, and Richard drew himself up defiantly. "Wait a moment, lieutenant." Tall, salt-and-pepper haired Leslie Michaels made her way to him. "The people are not pressing charges." "Ma'am?" "Ms. Jackson was not only provoked beyond reason, but she was obviously not in her right mind. She did not even realize her actions, and still hasn't. The state will press temporary insanity, and require that she get proper psychiatric care. That will be all, lieutenant." "But—" "That will be all, lieutenant." Her voice was steel; it must be obeyed. The hulking officer left. Richard breathed a long sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said fervently. "Is what you did legal?" Leslie shrugged. "I'll make it work. We both know she can't be held responsible for what she's done. The man has raped her literally hundreds of times, threatened to rape her best friend, beaten her, forced her to get addicted to drugs to escape, and driven her best friend to suicide. And then he makes suggestive actions towards her in the very court that's supposed to be prosecuting him. No one in the world could blame her for trying to kill him." "And if he dies?" Leslie shook her head. "Let's hope he doesn't. I don't think I could get her justifiable homicide, but I could probably get her temporary insanity. It would have to go to trial, though, and no one wants that. I can keep it out of court if he lives." She took a long look at the catatonic Renee. "Take her home, Mr. Palmer. I'll take care of everything else." He nodded gratefully and led Renee away. When she came out of it, she was horrified by what she'd done, but not sorry. Not sorry at all. Jordan, sadly enough, did survive. Her hand had been shaking badly, and she'd never fired a gun before. She'd missed his heart by a near inch. Leslie, as she had promised, kept Renee from being prosecuted, on the condition that she got serious therapy. After a week, the trial was continued. The defense, who, to their chagrin, was forbidden from even mentioning that the plaintiff had shot their client, called character witness after character witness. Until, that is, they made the mistake of calling Reese, who quite happily testified that Jordan was a sick, perverted sadist that had been abusive to her during their relationship, that she was not surprised by his treatment of Renee, and that he deserved whatever he got. Shortly thereafter, Jordan was convicted of rape, extortion, battery, and involuntary manslaughter. He was given twenty years. Leslie was appalled by the leniency of the sentence, but told Renee and Richard her hands were tied and that they should just be grateful he was in jail at all. Richard moved in with Renee right after the trial. She was afraid to be alone, and, frankly, he was afraid to leave her alone. They both felt better with him sleeping in the next room. He loved her desperately, but it was a trying time for them both, even with her in therapy every day. Aside from a final withdrawal period, drug were the least of Renee's problems. There were times when she would almost beg to be held, and other times when she would flinch at his touch as though it burned her. He learned never to come up behind her; it frightened her almost into a heart attack. She was constantly on edge, and though she tried not to, she nearly always hid her true thoughts and feelings from him out of sheer habit. At night, he could hear her thrashing about in her sleep, crying and often yelling at some imagined assailant. As time went on, the nightmares got worse, not better. Scarcely a night went by that he didn't have to wake her up from a dream before she injured herself. She sleep-walked often, and Richard was so worried for her safety that he took to sleeping in the hall so that she wouldn't wander off and get hurt. Getting her to eat at all was a struggle. Anorexia had her firmly in its grip and refused to let go. Thoughts of suicide ran through her head daily, and even Richard's presence and love did little to alleviate her feelings of worthlessness, despair, and self-hate. Richard, for his part, felt totally helpless. In some ways, however, her good days were the hardest. The times when she seemed normal, whole…even happy. The times when she was solicitous of him. It was so hard to refuse her, but he knew that at this point she didn't even know what she wanted. And she wasn't ready to have a lover. She might never be again. No matter how much she thought she wanted it, she would hate him later if he allowed his emotions to sway him. Something that was welcome today might become yet another injury tomorrow, and he couldn't, wouldn't, risk it. By some amazing miracle, they managed to make it through the end of their senior year. Renee's studies seemed the only thing that hadn't been affected by the experience. They went to work on their respective master's degrees; Richards in literature and Renee's in economics and general business. Soon after, Richard noticed that Renee was getting thinner again She insisted she was eating, but only rarely saw her have anything more substantial than juice. She was getting better in many way; she didn't cringe much any more, unless she was surprised, and she no longer contemplated suicide. But she was more terrified than ever of being alone, even for a second. And the nightmares continued to grow worse. "What if he gets out?" she asked him one afternoon. "He could get parole, cut a deal, or something. He'll come after me, I know he will. He doesn't forget things, ever. He'll come after me, and probably Reese, too." "Shh, Ray-nay," he said, stroking her hair. "He's not going to get out, love. Is that what you're afraid of? Is that why you've stopped eating?" She ignored his second question. "As long as he's alive, he has a hold on me, no matter where he is, or whether he can get to me. It's…not something you can understand. As long as he's alive, there's a chance he can get out. And what about twenty years from now? That's a long time, but it'll happen. He'll get out and then he'll come after me and kill me…or worse. He'd hold a grudge until hell froze over and twice that long to get his revenge, if that's what it took. But he would never, ever forgo that revenge. I know him, Rich, I can't help but know him. He'll kill me." Richard took her hand. "I promise you, I won't let that happen, okay? I promise. But you have to get some food in you. You're nothing but skin and bones, and it's dangerous, Ray-nay." Renee smiled weakly and put her hand to his cheek. His heart thrilled at the honest sign of affection. She sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll go make myself a sandwich." She disappeared into the kitchen and he smiled fondly after her. Ten seconds later, he heard a loud thump. He was off the couch in the instant. He rushed in the kitchen to see Renee sprawled unconscious on the floor, the loaf of white bread beside her. His heart beat wildly, and he scooped her up to rush her to the hospital. She weighed ninety-eight pounds.
When they got there, Richard was told that Renee was suffering from severe malnutrition, anemia, dehydration, and a plethora of deficiencies, the most notable of which was calcium. Her bones had become so brittle that her collarbone had snapped under even her minimal weight when she had fallen. Richard stayed by her side until she woke up, and sat with her until one of her girlfriends arrived. He kissed her forehead gently. "I have to go," he said. "Don't," she said hoarsely. The tube they had stuck down her throat to get food in her had rubbed the delicate skin raw. "I'll be back. In an hour. I promise." He left before she could talk him out of it. He was gone a little under an hour, and when he returned, he refused to tell her where he had been. For the next two days, he left never left her bedside. He slept in a hospital chair in her room when she slept, and when she was awake he sang love songs to her and wrote her stories to make her laugh, and coaxed her to eat. While she was napping on the second day, Richard snuck a look at her chart. The doctors wouldn't give him a straight answer about how she was doing. According to the chart, she was recovering nicely. At least in the physical sense. His gaze wandered over to the list of medications she was on. His heart skipped a beat and he dove for the call button. A nurse appeared and he snapped at her, "Get a doctor in here! Now." Startled and more than a little intimidated, the nurse did as he said. Dr. Holsen (a woman, as he'd insisted upon bringing Renee in) entered, concern written on her face. "Mr. Palmer, what's wrong?" He thrust the chart at her angrily. "Morphine. You're giving her damned morphine." Holsen took the chart and read it carefully. "Yes, for the pain from her broken bone. It's fairly standard. "Didn't you look at her records, woman?" Richard demanded. "Of course I did!" Holsen said. "It didn't say anything about an allergy or anything like that. She's not allergic, is she?" the woman added rapidly. "She has a drug history! She's clean now, but she's been addicted to crack, ecstasy, and God only knows what else!" "Damn!" the doctor swore, pushing him out of the way and shouting order to the nurse while cursing and mumbling about files that never got updated and what she'd like to do to idiot clerks who endangered peoples lives through negligence. Richard stepped back to let her work, staring at his love's pale, waif-like form in the middle of all the fuss. "My poor Ray-nay," he murmured. "What have they done to you now?" He took her home as soon as he, convinced she'd heal faster in her own home with him, rather than in strange, sickly place filled with dying people, bumbling idiots, and strangers that could appear threatening. Her withdrawal from the morphine was painful, made more so by the natural pain from her crushed collarbone that she couldn't afford to alleviate. Two days after they got home, the phone rang. Against Richards protests, she answered it. "Hello? Yes, this is Renee. Oh, hi Leslie! Well, I'm…not so good. I had a little fall. Oh, no, no, I'll be fine. It's good to hear from you." There was a pause. "He's what?! How?" Another pause, very long. "Oh my God. Yeah…yeah…I see. Thank you for telling me, Leslie. Goodbye." She hung up the phone and turned slowly back to Jordan. "Jordan's…dead. In prison. He was….he was raped, several times Leslie said, and then beaten…tortured, really. His fellow inmates." Richard smiled a ghastly smile of grim relief, not joy. It was really over now. "He'll never get out to hurt you, Ray-nay." Renee looked at him sharply. "Why do I have the feeling you have something to do with this?" she asked. Richard sighed heavily. "No. And yes." She shot him her 'you sure as hell better explain yourself' look. He leaned forward, trying to put it into words. Finally, he said, "There are a lot of criminals who have…standards. They're twisted standards, sometimes, but they're standards. And there are a lot of criminals who are decent human beings. They're in jail because maybe they killed the man their wife was having an affair with, not because they're natural born killers. Whatever they are, almost all of them hate people like Jordan, people are nothing more than sadists. And if they hate sadists, they hate perverts even more. "I went to the jail, and I found this older guy who had killed someone when he was young and was in for life anyway. He has daughter your age. I told him what Jordan had done to the woman I loved. He said that for his daughter's sake, he'd make sure that bastard never lived to see the light of day again. He said he had some friends who felt the same way about perverts like Jordan. "The guards…well, they knew what Jordan was. My guess is they turned their backs at a convenient time, hoping…" he trailed off and looked helplessly at Renee. "Richard…" she said, torn between horror and gratitude. "Look, I know it wasn't right," he said. "But I'm not so sure it was wrong, either. I couldn't let him hurt you, and the very fact of him being alive was killing you inside. It was the only think I could think of to do. And God help me, but I'd do it again." Renee looked at him for a very long moment and then threw her arms (her good arm, any way) around him and buried her face in his shoulder. "I love you, Richard," she said. His heart leapt. She'd never been able to say the words before, always been afraid to because of Jordan had done to her. But that had changed now. She would recover, he knew it. "I love you, too, my Ray-nay," he said, grinning happily. Renee got better rapidly after that. With Jordan's death, the power he had over her for so long was gone. She would never have felt truly safe, truly free, as long as he was alive. But now she was released from her bondage, and she was in control of herself again. No one had anything over her, no one could make her do anything. She hadn't felt like that in more than two years. The struggle with anorexia would always be with her, but now she knew it was a battle she could win. And she now had something to live for, a life to keep fighting for. Once the drugs were out of her system the final time, her desire seemed to be gone as well. She knew, however, that she was now very susceptible to being addicted to any drug, so she was very careful, even with things like aspirin. And cough medicine never again saw the inside of her home. Jordan was the only thing other than cars that she had really ever feared, and once he was gone she basically became fearless. She'd already been through the worst hell imaginable and lived to tell about it, so what else could hurt her? She'd been tested, tortured, and bent. But not broken. In a world where few people have ever been really, truly tested, that gave her a powerful advantage. She was always cautious over course. One of the first things she did was to get a handgun and learn how to use it with deadly accuracy. Richard hated guns, but understood her need for one. She never, ever placed herself in a position of vulnerability, and she never let down her guard except around her most trusted friends (and often, not completely then). It took quite a lot to become one of her trusted friends. She was an expert, however, in making people believe that she did indeed trust them, so that they in turn would trust her and let down their guard so that she could find out who and what they were really. She hard time actually being herself around anyone other than Richard, and an almost frighteningly easy time of pretending to be someone else. If people didn't know her or, better yet, thought they knew her but didn't, then they would have a very hard time figuring out how to hurt her. Renee swore to herself never again to let anyone have power over, in any way, shape, or form. She had her control back and she'd died before relinquishing even an inch of it. This, of course, was an attitude perfect for the corporate world. No sooner had she gotten her Masters degrees (and upon graduating had happily become Mrs. Renee Palmer) than she was offered a stunning starting job with a rapidly growing corporation by the name of Door International. It was a position perfect for both her vision and her insatiable ambition. Her bosses, as a rule, did not like her attitude. They thought she snubbed their authority and felt herself superior. That was quite true. But more often than not, about the time they began to think about reprimanding her or demoting her, she had their jobs. Her determination, wariness, shrewd business acumen, drive, and her 'distrust until you can triple verify' approach to everything soon brought her to the attention of the founder and CEO of the company, Jonathan Doors himself. He marked her from the start as his protégé. He reminded Renee of the grandfather she had never been able to please and the father she had never had a chance to. His very presence drove Renee to excellence, as though she had a compulsion to prove herself to him. But she wasn't afraid to stand up to him when she thought he was wrong about something, and willing to go toe to toe with him until she could prove she was right. And that's what he wanted. After eight years, things were good. Richard had a comfortable job with the paper that let him stay at home and make good money, while writing novels on the side. He loved it. Doors International grew during those years to become the largest, wealthiest, most powerful company in the world. Renee had moved her way up the ranks until she was second in charge of DI. She kept a low profile, wary of the vulnerability of being in the public eye, and made sure her records were so secure that even she couldn't hack into them, but she basically ran the company on a day-to-day basis. It basically couldn't function without her. Renee was happy, and Richard was happy. She did work a lot, and there were many times when he wished she were home more often, but working made her happy and that's what he wanted for her. When he remembered where she had been when they had met and how far she'd come, it made him grateful that she was just healthy again. He couldn't complain. When she came home from a long day at the office, she was tired, yes, but energized and glowing with accomplishment. She might not spend as much time at home as he might like, but when she was home she was cheerful and vivacious and her eyes sparkled. She loved her work, she loved her husband and she loved her life just the way it was, with all the business and the corporate intrigues and empire building. So it was a bit of a turn when she went into the doctor for a routine check-up, only to be told that she was two months pregnant.
Renee had been told some years ago that she would never be able to have children. The damage that the drugs, violence, and anorexia had done to her system was just too great, the doctors said. She was almost certainly infertile. It had bothered her, of course, but she dealt with it. Her life's ambition had always been to be a businesswoman, not a mother, and while she could have wished to be both there was nothing to do but accept the situation. She hadn't thought much about it since. She knew Richard thought about it everyday. He wanted children, wanted them badly, but never said a word about it. He counted himself lucky just to have Renee at all. She was just as glad to avoid the topic together. It was an understandable shock to find herself in the doctor's office, being told that she was going to have a baby. "Will…will my baby be normal?" she dared to ask. "I mean, it won't be hurt or sick because of me…will it?" The doctor gave her a serious look. "We'll have to run some tests. Your situation is an unusual one and I won't lie to you. There's a chance that your history of drug use and eating disorders might affect your child's health. The tests will tell us about any physical deformity, but there won't be any way of telling for certain about any mental problems until birth. Time will tell." Renee nodded, white-faced. "Is there anything I can do to reduce the risk of problems?" she asked. "Any way I might be able to make sure he…or she is normal?" The doctor shook her head slowly. "In part, no. What's done is done; you can't reverse your past. But you can make sure that no more problems arise. Eat well, and plenty. Make sure you get proper nutrition and I'll give you some supplements to take. Get good amounts of exercise, but don't tax yourself. Of course, stay away from any and all drugs. Other than that…it's in God's hands." Renee nodded soberly and left. God, please don't let my baby be hurt because of what Jordan did to me, and because of what I did to myself, she prayed. This has already touched and hurt so many people. Don't let my child be hurt, too. She told Richard the next day, a Friday. After fainting melodramatically, as he believed a proper father-to-be should, he was delighted. She pushed back her worries in the face of his joy, determined not to let anything get her down. Stress could only be a bad thing. Monday morning, Renee marched into Jonathan Doors' office and informed him that she was taking an indefinite leave of absence, beginning next month. "Dammit Renee! You can't do this to me," he roared. "I just did," she told him. "I'm pregnant and have been told not to stress or overexert myself. You can't deny I have the most stressful and difficult job in the company." Jonathan goggled at her. "You're what?" he asked. "Pregnant. Expecting. With child. In the family way. I have a bun in the oven." "How?" he asked, rather incredulously. Renee rolled her eyes. "The usual way. I could draw you a chart if you like, but having seen your son I would have thought you could grasp the concept…" "Be serious, Renee," he said. "You can't be pregnant." "And why the hell not?" she asked, amused. He knew nothing of her previously supposed infertility, close as they were. "I am a woman, after all. Not only that, but I have a husband of nearly nine years and we still have a rather amorous love life…" Jonathan held up a hand with an indecipherable expression on his face. "I get the point. Fine. You take off what time you need for maternity leave. I suppose I understand that, and I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself. But after that—" "After that I'm going to continue to stay home and raise my child," Renee said smoothly. "At least until he or she starts school. The first five years of a kid's life are the most important, after all. And when I was young, my father was never around and my mother didn't care about me at all. I'm not going to subject my kid to that. I'm going to raise her…or him properly. I won't just throw 'em in daycare or hire a nanny. That's no way to raise a child." "Richard works at home!" Jonathan exploded. "He can take care of the kid, and if you want to work fewer hours or something…" Renee was firm. "No. I want to do this. I want to be a constant presence in his or her life at least until he or she's in school. A child needs its mother, and there's no getting around it." "Damn you, Renee, you know I need you! You practically run the whole company. When you go on a vacation, the whole place goes to pieces within a week. You can't just up and tell me you're going to take off six years all of a sudden." He was angry. "You could always fire me," Renee pointed out. "With the salary you've been paying me, we're pretty much set for life as it is, and Richard gets a pretty comfortable income with his job alone. And I'm sure any one of your competitors will be happy to have me when I decide to rejoin the work force." "Don't try it with me," Jonathan growled. "I'm not one of those little idiot you can threaten, and you know it." Renee nodded. "Of course, Jonathan," she said, not really apologizing. "But either way, I'm going to do what I wish. Joshua can take over my job while I'm gone. He'll do it well enough, and it'll be good for him to have the experience. You don't give him enough credit." Jonathan shook his head, mumbling to himself. Finally he said, "At least agree to work from home some. You can do it without taking time away from your…child-rearing, and we might be able to keep the company from going to ruin." "I'll think about it," Renee said. "Now, I'd better get to work. I have some loose ends I should tie up before I leave." She headed out the door. "You'll hate it!" Jonathan called after her. "After three months, you'll be bored out of your skull. You love your job, you won't be able to stand being away." Renee turned in the doorway. "You know, you're not the only one whose life is being upset by this. I had plans of my own that did not include an extended leave of absence. I was after your job, next." She grinned wickedly and slipped out, back to her own office. At the end of that month, once she had everything in as much order as she could manage, she left work. She and Richard went up to their 'little' cabin in Virginia so that Renee could get away from it all. Richard, as a writer, could do his job equally well form just about anywhere. They returned to DC often, for Renee's regular check-ups. Tests showed everything to be normal with the baby, and though it wasn't a complete assurance, it did much to put their minds at ease. They were both overjoyed to find out that it was girl. Renee loved being pregnant. She managed to avoid the morning sickness, and food cravings and mood swings hit her only lightly. She stood in the cabin's master bedroom, looking in the full length mirror at her expanding belly. Richard came up behind her and put his arms around her, rubbing her stomach and resting his chin on her shoulder. "You're beautiful," he said, kissed her cheek. "I'm fat," she corrected, fussing fretfully with her clothing. "Renee…" Richard said warningly. She turned her head to look at him and smiled a little. "Don't worry, love. That was a 'I'm pregnant, cranky, and need to complain about something' kind of 'I'm fat'. Not a 'I'm obsessing again and going to stop eating'." Richard grinned with relief and held her tightly. She kissed him contentedly. Renee went into labor early, but not unreasonably so. She was in labor for almost sixty hours, though the nurses assured her that everything seemed to be going normally. Richard stayed by her side for the most part, except for the times when she kicked him out of the room because it was his fault that she was going through this and she wanted him to die. But he was persistent, and kept coming back. Finally, at 3:45 am on a Sunday morning, Renee's daughter was born. She was a tiny little thing who howled like the dickens the instant she was free. "Let me hold her!" Renee demanded immediately, before they could even clean her off. They wrapped the little baby in a blanket and handed her to her anxious mother. "Hi," Renee whispered hoarsely, in amazement at the tiny life in her arms. She looked up at the doctor. "Is she…?" The doctor nodded, with a smile. "As far as we can tell. She certainly seems as healthy as I've ever seen." Renee beamed and turned her attention back to her squalling daughter. "Hi," she said again. "Hi, Karen Palmer. I'm your mommy."
Karen was perfect. The doctors ran every conceivable test on her and she passed with flying colors. They estimated her intelligence as above average (not surprising, given her parents) and her hearing, eyesight, physical development were all as good as any parent could wish for. And Renee had not even dared to hope for such a jewel. Karen grew quickly, as all children do. She was never a fussy baby, and slept through the night almost from the start. Her personality was sunshiny and happy. She had her mother's stunning blond hair, but in wild curls that refused to ever be completely restrained. Her eyes were bright blue and she'd gotten her father's dimples and disposition. At the age of five, Renee could count on the fingers of one hand how many tantrums her daughter had thrown. Renee, of course, did start itching to get back to work after about three months, but found she could easily do most of her work at home without taking any time away from Karen. She went into the office maybe twice a month to make sure everything was running smoothly, but Joshua proved to be an excellent replacement. Richard was ecstatic to have her at home most of the time. When Karen was just learning how to talk, she had trouble with her 'r's and so when she tried to say her name it came out "Kay-en" rather than "Karen". This was soon shortened to "Kay", and then "Kay-Kay" by Richard. It stuck, and even when she was perfectly capable of saying "Karen" she referred to herself as "Kay" or "Kay-Kay". "Kay-Kay loves Mom-my," she would say in a singsong voice, twirling around the living room. "And Mommy loves Kay-Kay," Renee would finish, scooping the little girl up and twirling her around. Then they would both spin and spin and spin until they got dizzy and collapsed giggling into the armchair. "My Ray-nay and my Kay-Kay," Richard would often say, gathering them both on to his lap, kissing his wife and tickling his young daughter. "A matched set." Kay was neither a mother's girl nor a daddy's girl. She was equally attached to both her parents, and always ready with a smile and a kiss for either of them. Whenever they asked her something like "do you want to go shopping with Mommy or stay and read with Daddy" she would almost always say, "Can't I stay with both of you?". But even so, she treasured alone times with both her parents. Renee was convinced that there had never before been such a precious angel of a child. She was sitting on the couch, reading Kay's favorite book to her in the light of the late afternoon summer sun. They were both laughing because Kay kept saying each line before Renee read it. Finally, Renee shut the book and pushed it away, saying, "You don't need me any more!" She pretended to get up and Kay yanked on her sleeve, pulling her back down to the couch. "No!" she shrieked laughingly. Renee pulled the girl into her arms and kissed her cheek. "Mommy loves Kay-Kay," she said softly. "And Kay-Kay loves Mommy!" Karen finished dutifully, playfully struggling to get away but not really wanting to go anywhere. "All right, you two," Richard said from the doorway, a fond expression on his face. "Supper's ready." Karen grabbed her mother's hand and flew off the couch, dragging Renee with her into the dining room. They all sat, said a quick grace, and dove in. Well, Richard and Kay dug in. Renee sort of played with her food. "I'm not very hungry," she said. "I don't think I'll eat." "Renee, you have to eat. We can't have this again." "Why does Mommy have to eat?" Kay asked innocently. Richard and Renee exchanged looks. "Well, Kay-Kay, if Mommy doesn't eat she gets very sick," Richard explained. "So if I'm not here, don't ever let Mommy skip a meal, even if she's not very hungry. Okay?" "Okay," the girl agreed, watching her mother intently. "That was a dirty trick," Renee whispered out of the corner of her mouth, not really mad. Richard only grinned at her. "Mommy, aren't you going to eat now?" Kay interrupted, still watching her. Renee sighed and held up her hands in mock defeat. "Alright, I'm eating!" she said, taking a huge bite of chicken in full view of her husband and daughter. Kay nodded in satisfaction and went back to her own food. "I've been thinking," Richard said a few minutes later. "There's only a few weeks of summer left. We should go up to the cabin before Kay-Kay has to start school." Karen would be going to first grade in the fall, and Renee was planning on going back to work then, although still working from home in the afternoons when Kay would be around. "Yay!" Karen said around a mouthful of food, only to close her mouth tightly at her mother's disapproving look. Renee's upper class manners had rubbed off on her daughter. "I think that's a great idea," Renee said. "This is the best time of year to be up there, and I think it's time Kay-Kay learned to swim." This time Kay swallowed before exclaiming, "Really? In the lake?" "Yes, in the lake," Richard assured her. He turned back to Renee. "You want to leave tomorrow, then?" She frowned in thought. "Day after," she decided. "Karen's got a play date tomorrow with Jessie and I need to run to the office for a couple things. Mind watching both girls while I'm gone?" "I'd love to." Richard was a favorite with Kay's friends. "We're going?" Kay asked, her blue eyes round as saucers. "Really? I'm going to go pack!" She was half out of her seat before she added, "I mean, may I please be excused?" "Two more bites of veggies and take your plate to the kitchen," Renee said. She watched carefully as Karen shoveled the requisite number of spoonfuls into her mouth, tossed her plate in the sink, and pounded upstairs. Richard grabbed Renee's hand. "Kay ought to be busy for at least two hours, if I know her," he said, leaning forward. "More, because she'll fall asleep halfway through. Maybe we should take the time to…pack." His eyes sparkled at her in the way that let her that suitcases were the farthest thing from his mind. Renee kissed him. "That," she said, putting her arms around his neck, "Sounds like a very good idea. Let's go…pack." "Only if you finish your veggies," Richard told her. She flipped a spoonful of peas at him in disgust and ran up the stairs, daring him to chase her. He did, and that evening they did very little that actually got them ready for the trip. Two days later, they were firmly ensconced in their cozy mountain cabin. The whole family loved it up there, and Richard found inspiration from the beauty of the outdoors. He was typing idly at his laptop, while Karen was playing in her room. It was a lazy Wednesday afternoon. "Listen to this," Renee said, walking in with her nose in the newspaper. "It says here that those 'alien' probes the government's been babbling about for the past three years are landing more and more frequently. There've been twelve reported in North America alone in the past week. They say that if you find one, you should report it immediately and stay far away from it because they contain massive amounts of deadly radiation." She folded the paper and looked thoughtful. "Do you suppose there really are alien probes landing in our backyards, or is all this an excuse to fatten the defense budget?" "Huh." Richard swiveled around in his chair to look at her. "You're so cynical," he said. "And you're a romantic!" she shot back, the same playful argument they'd been having for nearly fifteen years, whenever they disagreed. They both laughed. "Anyway, something strange is going on," Richard said. "You can't deny that." "Never," she agreed. Then, changing the subject. "We need food up here. There is nothing in the fridge and I don't intend to live on nasty fresh trout and berries for the next two weeks. If I don't get some junk food up here, I'm going to starve." "Not funny," Richard said. Renee grinned. "I think it is. Now, are you going to go get something interesting or not?" "As you wish, fairest of all ladies," he said, rising to kiss her hand. "Kay-Kay, I'm going for groceries!" he bellowed, making Renee wince at the loudness. "Want to come?" Karen shot out of her room. "Yes!" she said. "Can we get ice cream?" Richard shook his head, unbelieving. "You and your mom…" he muttered. Renee shot him an angelic grin and followed them out to the driveway. "Be careful," she said, suddenly nervous. "Cars are dangerous…" She'd mostly gotten over her fear, but she was still often antsy about automobiles when Karen was riding in them. "We'll be fine," Richard said, sensing she needed reassurance. He came over and kissed her deeply. Karen, from the front seat, made a face. "I love you, Ray-nay," he said. "Love you, Richard," she said back. "Drive safe." He nodded, getting in the car and backing out. Karen leaned way out the passenger side and blew Renee a kiss. She was wearing her favorite plaid dress, the little lady she was, and had her unruly, white-blond hair in pigtails. "Kay-Kay loves Mom-my!" she sang as they left. They were out of earshot by the time Renee could say, "And Mommy love Kay-Kay," but she called it after them anyway. She sighed contentedly, and started to go back inside. The squeal of tires and the sound of metal hitting metal stopped her in her tracks. "No…" she whispered. It wasn't possible, not again. Heart beating wildly, she pelted down the driveway and on the to the road. She raced up the hill and around the bend, nearly a half-mile, before she saw what she feared most. Their car and a station wagon had collided. Head on. "No!" she screamed, and ran to where her family was. The first thing she saw past the smoke was the driver of the other car. He was dead, and from the look of it, it seemed as though he'd been dead before the accident. She ignored him, and went over to her car. The driver's side was completely and totally smashed. There was no way Richard was still alive. She suppressed her anguish and ran around to the passenger side, where Kay had been sitting. She was trapped beneath the twisted metal, only her upper body visible. She was a mess of blood and oil, with a bit of blond curl sticking out. "Kay-Kay!" Renee cried, stroking the matted hair off her child's forehead. "Oh, baby, baby, talk to me! Kay!" Karen made gurgling sound. "C'mon, baby, don't leave me!" Renee begged. "Mommy loves Kay-Kay, you hear me? Mommy loves Kay-Kay!" Karen managed to half open her eyes. They were filled with tears of pain. She said, in a hoarse ghost of a whisper, "And Kay-Kay loves…" She never finished the sentence. Renee howled with pain. By that time, there was an ambulance on the scene, for they were close to town and it was a well-traveled road. A paramedic put his hands on Renee's shoulders, trying to clear her away. She tore herself from his grasp, not knowing what to do, and ran. She ran as fast as she could, not able to bare being at the crash any longer. She was crying hysterically, and never knew how she made it back to the cabin. When she got there, her global was beeping loudly and insistently. She forced herself to numb her heart, wipe the tears from her eyes and the expression from her face, and answer it. "Renee!" Jonathan said. "Where the hell have you been? Have you been watching the news? My God, it's incredible. A spaceship has just down in the middle of Washington DC. It's huge, and these aliens, they call themselves Taelons, are claiming they want to help us!" He was too agitated to notice the state she was in. "I don't like it, Renee. For one thing, their ship sent out about three hundred random burst of radiation within a hundred-mile radius. At least ten people have been killed from it, and even more people have been killed in accidents caused by the people who got hit by the radiation and didn't know it until they were dead. Car accidents and things." Renee heart tightened at the news. Car accidents. The other driver already dead. Alien radiation. Jonathan, still not noticing, continued. "This smells funny, and everyone in the world seems to be welcoming these creatures without questions, like it's the greatest thing ever. They're already half brainwashed and these aliens haven't been here four hours. We need to organize something, a Resistance against them. How fast can you get here?" It sounded far-fetched, it was so early to be saying anything, but Jonathan was famous for his far-ranging and accurate foresight. It was how he'd become the richest man on Earth. "I don't know," Renee said blankly. "Look," he said, misinterpreting her reaction for shock at the Taelons arrival. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, but I want you to be right here at the founding. This is going to change all our lives, and I'm going to need all your help to fight these creatures. Will you do it?" Renee felt her heart turning to icy hate. Taelons. They'd killed her husband and daughter. Perhaps only second-hand, but it was their fault. Her next words made Jonathan finally realize something else was the matter. "Yes," she said in a strange voice that chilled him to hear. Her tone was almost inhuman in its determined lack of emotions and the bitter look in her eyes was painful to see. For her, Black Wednesday would forever have different meaning. "I have nothing else to live for." Fin.
Back to Morwen
"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace,
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death," he recited passionately and beautifully.
And the world has turned its back on you,
Give me a moment, please, to tame your wild, wild heart.
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't
take anymore
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend your broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone
And your loyal friend is hard to find
You're caught in a one way street
With the monsters in your head
When hopes and dreams are far away and
You feel you can't face the day
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend your broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone
And when it's over you'll breathe again
You'll breathe again
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please
To tame your wild wild heart…
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend your broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone."
Back to the SFA
