The Ravaged Angel

by The Black Maiden

"She stands with her back to the wind, a broken soul, and not one sin. Words screaming through her head are clear, and none can silence the awful din." All alone, she resides. She refuses to feel, but memories come back to her in the middle of the night, memories she wanted to forget. Her name is Ram, she wasn't Regina anymore. The Threshold has no place for emotions. (MANGAVERSE)

Good evening!

This is part one of what I hope will end up being a series. A series of one-shot stories based on Black Rock Shooter: Innocent Soul, in which I dig deep into each character's backstory. And since she is my favorite character, I've decided to start with Ram.

The picture is once again done by my best friend/sister BrookRiver, editing once again done by The Omega Mega 1. I love you guys!

Edit: I should probably have mentioned that these stories will be posted in separate one-shots. So following this story probably isn't such a good idea. However if you follow me as an author it should update you when the next part is out!

Warning: Extreme angst ahead, as well as child abuse, death, heavily implied rape, infant mortality, and violence. Do not read unless you have a strong stomach, or you want to end up moronically depressed later.

That being said, I'll see you at the end.

---

She stands with her back to the wind,
A broken soul,
And not one sin.
Words screaming through her head are clear,
And none can silence the awful din.

---

The girl with horns observed the plains before her. Her seat on the rooftop gave her a substantial view over the Threshold, granting access to the thousand-yard planes that spread like seas before her. Beneath her, figures of young girls flashed and spun, weapons clanging and eyes glinting as they trained hard and steadily for battle.

The horned girl straightened up a bit as she heard heavy, uneven footsteps behind her, determining the only one person it could be, and smiled just a bit as she turned. "You followed me."

The man, if he could even be called that (he looked more like a giant tiki head with a misshapen body attached) looked at her with concern. "It's not like you to disappear."

"Are you being serious?" She chided, her voice a bit jocular. "I like to disappear. I always disappear."

"Not for this long and not during a conference." He replied. "What Jiou said…did it offend you?"

"You worry too much, Ouru." She sighed. "Nothing he could say could upset me."

Ouru remained silent for a moment. "You have changed much since you first came to the Threshold."

"Have I?"

"Yes." She heard him chuckle. "I remember a girl who at the beginning, was scared of her own shadow. A girl who wouldn't hold a sword and never told me why. Now look at you." He laid a lumpy hand on her shoulder. "You have truly put the past behind you?"

"Of course." She replied, not wincing under his touch. "My life held too many memories, all of which were filled with emotions and sentiments not at all necessary for my duties here." She smiled back at him. "There's no need for emotion in this world."

"If that is true, my young apprentice," Ouru countered "explain to me why I hear you crying at night."

She became startled then. "…When did this occur?"

"Once in a while, the most recent being two nights ago." He knelt beside her. "I can hear you; sometimes only soft tears and whimpers, but sometimes your sobs echo in the halls like a haunting ghost." He looked at her sympathetically. "You dream of it, don't you Ram?"

Ram took a breath, as if to calm herself. "I wish to remind you, teacher, that though there are very few places of privacy in this tower, my room is one of them. What goes on inside is my business and mine alone." Then her expression softened. "Thank you for your concern, but I'll be perfectly fine."

While Ouru looked unsure of her answer, he nodded in response, stood, and left her alone once again.

Once more Ram looked out over the Threshold's empty plains, but this time a heavy sadness seemed to weigh down her chest. She struggled to breathe, in her wake digging up old memories of a past life that she had almost completely forgotten.

---

The dark little town complimented perfectly the blackness of the night sky. No stars were shining, as none could be seen behind the blankets of red clouds, turning the entire world a shade of dark crimson. Streetlights added to the grim mood by casting solemn glows on small patches of the street, making it so only a few feet at a time could be seen by any passing car (which there were very few of), their headlights cutting through the darkness like the eyes of ghosts. From inside dark and crumbling houses, babies cries could be heard, and from the tiny white hospital building, from inside the hall, echoing from a tiny white room, screams were audible.

On the bed, a young girl of sixteen lay in terrible agony as she struggled under the weight of her labor pains. The screaming, however, was not coming from her, but from her mother, shouting at the doctors to do something to stop the bleeding, crying that her little girl was going to die, and cursing the unborn child's father for doing this to her. The girl's adult sister was also screaming, but she was screaming at her mother to be quiet, for she was agitating the young girl even further. The young girl, however, was not screaming. She was whimpering, whispering prayers under her breath, but she did not scream. Her dark skin, the color of hot chocolate, was shiny with sweat, as was her black hair, still braided. The girl, Lynne Warren, was in terrible pain, but no, she did not scream. She refused to scream.

As the arguments went on, Lynne began to feel her breath becoming short. As she struggled to keep her chest rising and falling, her memory took her back to the days she'd spent with him…

Oh, the man she'd loved, how she wished he was here with her. The man who'd called her his Aztec princess, and claimed that they would be together forever. But when summer came, so did the news of her pregnancy, and like that, he was gone, as quickly as he'd come.

Now she couldn't feel her legs, and the rest of her was slowly becoming numb as well. Lynne felt her heart sink as she realized what was happening, as she realized that, at the end of this, she would not be there to watch her child grow up.

Oh well, she thought, perhaps it was for the best-

And then, with a burst of pain, she heard the doctor shout something, and a baby's cries hit the air. The sound of it made Lynne's heart break, and she felt tears escape from her eyes and dribble down her neck. All the while her mother and sister praised her, telling her she'd done wonderfully, but she could barely hear them anymore. All she could do was stretch her arms out, and plead in a whisper "Let me see my baby."

The doctors complied, and her baby girl was placed in her arms, already dried off and separated from the umbilical cord. The baby still whimpered, but seemed to cease when she caught sight of her young mother, and she gave her a toothless smile.

The baby's appearance was not something Lynne had expected to see; all the people in her family had dark almond skin, black hair, and brown, sometimes even black, eyes, but this child-this beautiful child-had skin and hair the color of freshly fallen snow, and around her black pupils, irises of bright blood red.

Lynne barely had time to enjoy her child's beauty, however, for the nurses began to panic at her lowering heart rate. She felt her arms growing heavy as her vision went dark around the edges, and she whispered "Her name's Regina Warren." She managed to look at her sister. "Remember that."

When her sister nodded, Lynne relaxed. She felt her body becoming numb as she starred down at her sweet baby girl, and whispered with her last breath "I love you, my little angel."

---

Regina would have been considered smart for a four year old.

She knew how to dress herself. She knew how to tie her shoes and how to put her clothes away, and she even knew how to go to the fridge and make herself her own dinner.

She would have been considered smart, had her Aunt Eve and Uncle Rolando noticed that she could do all these things by herself.

Regina never blamed them. They had many other children themselves, and they were very busy, so she never got mad at them for forgetting to take her to school, or forgetting to pick her up, or forgetting to make her dinner or breakfast, or even forgetting her birthday. No, she never got mad at them. They couldn't have done it on purpose.

Sure, Aunt Eve sometimes gave her looks of disgust when she said something, and sure, Uncle Rolando sometimes took her off the seat in the dining room and sat one of her cousins down on it, and sure, sometimes the two of them would lock the door when she went out to take the trash out, and she would have to spend the night in the backyard tree house, huddled up to keep out the cold and the spiders, but these were just accidents, weren't they?

After all, Regina liked being alone. Or, she supposed she did, she was always alone.

She would sit in the back of the classroom at school, where none of the other kids would notice her. The teacher hardly noticed her, either, no matter how high she raised her hand, no matter how anxious she looked; she somehow managed to even slip off the role sheet more than a few times. When all the other kids went out to recess, Regina would always stay inside and read her book, because no one would ask her to go out and play with them.

There was, however, one day where the teacher had a meeting during lunch and thus could not be there to watch over any students who wanted to stay inside the classroom, so Regina had to take her book and go outside to read, where all the other kids were playing.

As she sat on the bench, which was cold and hard and smelled like dog pee and old gum, she looked round her at all the other children, running around and playing with their friends.

Suddenly her book seemed less interesting as she watched the children playing. They looked like they were having fun. As she watched them, their distinct laughter hit her ears, and it was a delightful sound, happy and joyful.

She wanted to laugh. She wondered what the appeal was. Was it fun?

She looked over and spied three girls she knew playing a game of hopscotch, and thus, she left her book on the bench and slowly, on stiff legs, made her way towards them tentatively.

When she reached them, she stood a few inches away from them and waited, anticipating them to stop at any second and look at her.

When they didn't, she cleared her throat and said in a soft voice. "Hello…"

Now they stopped, turned, and looked at her, their eyes slightly narrowed.

"My name's Regina…" She added quietly. "Can I play with you?"

The girls stood still for a moment more, before they went back to their game as if she didn't exist.

Assuming they must just be shy, Regina went around to the other children, asking each one in small voices if they would let her play with them. Some children would stare at her for a few moments, before they would go back to what they were doing, and others wouldn't even look at her at all, completely disregarding her as if she were a ghost on the wind.

Finally, when she had exhausted all other options on the play ground, Regina looked around her at all the children playing, threw her head back, and screamed in aggravation, as most children are known to do. She balled up her fists and scrunched up her face, tears welling in her eyes as she did, and when her voice was exhausted, she looked about her to see the damage she'd caused.

Nothing had changed. None of the children had even looked her way. Each and every one of them had disregarded her, as if she were nothing but a cloud floating in the air, something you wouldn't give more than a second glance to.

Regina sat down on the bench again. Her book was still there, but it no longer looked as interesting as it had before.

She put her head in her hands and cried.

A bird flew past her, looked back, and then continued its flight, not stopping once.

---

If the incident at school hadn't changed her, what happened when she got home definitely did.

She walked home again, this time in tears, still from the incident at school and not at her uncle forgetting to pick her up. She made her way down the wet sidewalk as it continued to lightly drizzle, her fair white hair becoming more soaked by the minute as she continued on.

She reached home, tried the door, found it locked, and went around to the side window which was always open and went in that way, first tossing her book bag inside and then hauling herself up through the tiny space.

However, this time, she went to her secret spot―the tiny closet under the stairs, like from her favorite book Harry Potter―and cried for hours instead of doing her homework like she should've.

Finally, around nine o'clock, she emerged from her hiding place, reached for the trash bag sitting by the door, which seemed even heavier than usual today, and dragged it outside. She managed to pull it behind her to the can without it tearing open as it sometimes did, and throw it in without the can tipping over, as what sometimes happened, so she tricked herself into a good feeling for just long enough to get back to the door and find it locked.

She went around to the window and found that locked too.

Panicking, she ran around to the back door, desperately jiggling the doorknob, and found that all entrances to the house were sealed.

Had it been any other day, she would have simply gone into the backyard tree house for shelter, but tonight Regina was agitated, and her mind began to play tricks on her, conjuring up the treys to look like monsters or the shadows to form into scary men with axes and knives.

Regina screamed and pounded on the door, crying "AUNTIE! AUNTIE! HELP ME! AUNTIE! HELP ME! AAAAAAAAAAUUUNTIE!"

Suddenly the door opened, and before Regina could feel an ounce of relief, she saw her aunt's hand collide with her face and push her back down the steps.

She hit the ground, hard, her head smacking on the step with a loud crack. She cried out in pain and struggled against the throbbing as she attempted to sit up, but before she could, something-it felt like a vase- was thrown at her, and she fell back again.

"Get away from me!" She heard her aunt scream, and looked up at her through blurry vision. She saw a brown bottle of something in her hand, and her clothes were messy, but aside from that she couldn't tell much about her condition, other than the fact that she was very mad.

Her aunt raised the bottle. "You're not Lynne!"

Regina got to her knees, still dizzy. "Auntie, please let me in…"

"Get away! You're not Lynne! You're not Lynne!" Her aunt continued to scream. She threw the empty bottle at her niece, which hit her smack in the face, and slammed the door, locking it.

Regina felt miserable. She wanted to curl up into a ball and die, but instead the slight movements made her retch and vomit all over herself. Her wet clothes made the cold seep through even faster, and as she cried the tears froze on her face.

Slowly, Regina stood again ad made her way into the backyard, climbing up the stairs to the tree house with great difficulty, as if her limbs were made of lead and sand. She did reach the top, however, and curled up on the floor of the house, arranging her smelly clothes around her to try to block out the cold, although they did little to help.

Laying there on the cold hard ground outside, half naked and covered in vomit, while spiders investigated her and began to make webs in her hair, Regina realized that those time when she was forgotten were not accidental, that she did not like to be alone, and that, if no one could see her or acknowledge her or hear besides if they were scolding her, then who was to say if she existed at all?

---

Regina was only sixteen when she caught sight of him, and she swore to herself that he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

His name was Jerome Camulus, the son of a rich politician and businessman, who had political standings, companies and citizenship in 30 different countries. But that wasn't what drove her to him.

What attracted her was the way he smiled, how tall he stood, and the soothing tone of his voice that had just a hint of a British accent mixed with it; soft and low and calming. He was tall and very, very thin, but his indigo eyes were deep and strong, and when he glanced in her direction, she thought they would suck the air straight from her lungs.

And surprisingly, he knew her.

They didn't go to the same school, for he was already studying at a private university and she was still stuck at that shoddy excuse for a high school, but she was clever and smart and loved to read, and more than once, apparently, he'd seen her snooping around the library, looking for any piece of literature that was worth her time to read.

Upon discovering this, the two began a mutual acquaintanceship, which soon turned into a friendship. It was refreshing to Regina to find someone else who shared her love of such reading material as he did. Most people at her school were still locked in their digital lives and never took the time to evaluate the words on a page. Not him, though; his own words were like poetry, his voice like a melody, his head like a maze filled with mystery, and she longed to get lost in it and never find her way out again.

"What's your favorite?" He asked her one day as they browsed through a collection of eighteenth century novels.

She looked up. "Favorite?"

"Your favorite book." He clarified.

Regina chuckled. "It's so hard to pick just one." She admitted. "I started reading chapter books at such a young age, that when I got older, certain books just weren't…involving enough for me." She sighed. "I've never been a big fan of Twilight or anything supernatural, but I can enjoy a good romance if I'm in the mood. So…" She smiled as she pulled a blue covered book off the shelf "Between you and me, I'd have to say Jane Eyre."

"Interesting." Jerome gave her a smile, and Regina swore her heart had caught fire. He continued strolling through the shelves of books, turning away from her to examine a different row. "I've always been a fan of Dickens' works. Although even then, Great Expectations has always been a favorite of mine."

"Really?" Regina leaned against the shelf. "The idea of a young poor boy becoming rich enchants you?"

He nodded, giving her another heart-warming smile. "Of course. I'm not like most rich children; my father taught me that if I wanted my inheritance I'd better damn well work for it, in those exact words!"

Regina giggled a bit. "You're committed then?"

"Of course. Besides, I've been told I have a knack for public speaking."

Regina wanted to tell him that the sound of his voice was all he needed to enchant people, and perhaps he could be another Robert Frost, but all she could do was smile and nod.

He too smiled, and turned back to the selections at hand, while Regina cursed her slow tongue and knowledge of class structures. After all, a prince marrying a common girl only happened in fairy tales.

---

She didn't stop seeing him after that day. Maybe if she had, she could have prevented heart break.

The library had a garden; one of those gardens that seemed to have a time stream completely different from the rest of the worlds; one of those gardens with flowers that always bloomed and looked beautiful, even on the cloudiest, rainiest days. Actually, the garden looked most beautiful on cloudy days, and since their town got quite a bit of clouds throughout the year, this was perfect.

On these days, Regina and Jerome would sit on one of the garden benches and simply talk; about anything and everything, she could talk so freely when she was with him, and he with her.

So she should not have been surprised when he looked at her whimsically and told her about the girl he was in love with, although that didn't stop her from dying.

"Her name is Mia." He breathed, as if he were under a spell. "Some people call her Mii…oh Regina, if you could see her…" He laid his head back and watched the clouds. "You would swear she is an embodiment of Aphrodite. She radiates perfection."

"Does she?" Regina choked out from behind the lump in her throat as she forced herself not to cry. "She must be very lucky then; from the way you described her you two are perfectly matched."

Jerome sighed. "Oh Regina, I wish." He sat up. "But the truth is, she's already in love with another, a man named Lirio, a childhood friend of hers." He sighed. "He can't comprehend the beauty he holds within his hands." He turned to Regina then. "You can be sure on my words, my dear friend, that I will never love another besides Mia."

It was at that moment Regina died, her heart pierced by the cold scepter of loneliness that was so familiar to her. She looked into Jerome's deep, sad, beautiful eyes, and in a flash, realized that she was only air to him; nothing more than air.

Still, though, she smiled, took his hand, and gently comforted "Don't worry, you're a wonderful person, I'm sure she'll one day come to her senses. After all, anyone would be lucky to have you for a husband."

When he smiled at her sadly, she prayed he couldn't feel her hand trembling.

---

Every day with him after that only brought her pain.

Jerome's obsession with Mii grew almost daily, she felt. She tried to ignore it and continue on with their usual habit of friendship, but it seemed him telling her about the woman he pined for opened up a wound in him, and it wouldn't stop bleeding.

Regina had seen Mii on only a few occasions, and immediately her hopes had been dashed as she caught sight of the woman. She was tall and shapely, with a smooth, heart-shaped face and sparkling purple eyes that seemed to always catch the light just right. Her hair was short and the color of blazing orange fire or of fallen leaves on a perfect autumn day, and the light gleamed off it in a kaleidoscope of rainbows.

Regina felt empty. Mii was perfect.

It was no wonder this woman already had a boyfriend. Both Regina and Jerome had only seen him on a few occasions, usually walking with her. He was tall and tan, but in a very natural way, and his light blonde hair and green eyes complimented him perfectly.

And Jerome obviously hated him.

Whenever they saw them together, usually walking hand in hand or sitting together with their arms draped around each other, Jerome would stop and stare, his eyes glazed with agonizing longing and loneliness, and Regina felt her heart break a bit more.

As much as being with him in this state hurt her, the thought of leaving him was almost unbearable, and she struggled with her decision for months, wishing and praying that maybe by chance he would forget about Mii and realize the feelings she harbored for him.

But he made that decision for her when he stopped coming to the library.

It was like he had disappeared off the face of the earth, and now the only times she saw him out were when Mii was in the same place, either with friends or on a date with Lirio. She would see Jerome several feet away, usually alone at a shady bench or table, a dark and lonely gloom cast over his face. She would stop sometimes, even call out to him, but he had gone blind and deaf to the world, as his eyes never strayed from Mii.

And even when Regina didn't see him, she heard people talk about him.

"The politician's son." People would whisper. "He never goes outside anymore."

"And when he does, he's like a chameleon; you can't ever see him."

"Pining for some girl."

"He doesn't even attend class anymore."

"If only his father weren't in Denmark, he could straighten him out."

But again, no one mentioned her. No one knew about her. None of the people who spread the gossip even knew about the lonely city girl who'd fallen in love with the politician's son, and had her heart broken even more severely than he had.

---

Regina was used to her aunt and uncle forgetting her birthday, but she had never expected what she got when she came home on the rainy afternoon of her eighteenth.

She opened the front door, surprisingly not locked today, only to see a suitcase and a black backpack sitting down by the stairs, some of her clothes spilling out of them.

Curious, she ran up the stairs to her bedroom, only to find many, if not all, of her material belongings gone.

Regina ran back down the stairs and came face to face with her aunt, who was walking past casually s if she didn't see Regina in her panic.

"Auntie!" She cried out. "Auntie, what are you…why is my stuff here? What's going on?"

He aunt didn't even look up. "You're leaving. I already packed your bags for you. You can go."

"Leaving?" Regina looked at her in disbelief. "Where am I going?"

"Does it look like I know?" Her aunt replied, not even looking at her. "I don't care where you go, but I raised you into an adult. I kept my promise to Lynne, now I'm done. Now leave."

Regina was shaking. "A-Auntie, I can't leave…I have no where to go…"

Her aunt didn't even look at her.

She began to cry, no matter how she tried to stifle it, the tears poured down her cheeks. "This is…because you think you have to pay for my college? You won't have to…I'll get a scholarship…that's all I need. I can get a scholarship and then I'll go. You won't have to pay a cent, I promise. I swear, Auntie, I'll do this all on my own."

"That's the problem." Her aunt muttered. "You. I hate seeing your face every day." Her voice cracked, and Regina realized she was crying. "Every time I look at you, it's a reminder that Lynne isn't here and why she's not here. You're the reason she's dead, you're the one who killed her." She wiped the tears and recomposed herself.

Regina's heart was racing. "Y-you can't do this, please…" She approached her aunt slowly. "Please, I have nowhere to go. I don't have any money saved. I w-was going to go to collage…I just need a scholarship, Auntie, that's all I need, I just need a scholarship and then I can go to college and make you proud…" Her hands were shaking "I'll become a scientist or an actress or anything you want me to be, I'll do anything you want, please don't abandon me, Auntie, please don't abandon me, please don't abandon me…" She ran towards her aunt and grabbed her shoulder, and suddenly she was thrown backward onto the ground, her head throbbing, and her aunt brandishing a coffee mug, starring down at her with tired, empty eyes.

"You can't make me proud." She replied simply. "You aren't Lynne." She pointed at the door. "Get out."

Regina wanted to ask her who Lynne was, but her tongue had gone numb from the shock of all that had happened. She stood slowly, slightly dizzy, made her way over to the door, taking her time with putting on her jacket and boots as if the both of them were weighted. She gathered up her luggage and looked back at the house one last time, tears pouring down her face, before she opened the door and stepped out into the night.

---

It was raining when Regina reached the bus station. Her hair was already soaked, clinging to her face in long white tendrils. Her shoes squished as she walked, stepping in puddles all the way, although she honestly couldn't tell if rain was making her face wet or tears.

She came to the bus station and walked right past it, realizing but not bothering to correct a mistake that she wondered if it was truly a mistake. After all, where did she have to go? What could she do?

Regina finally found refuge on top of an empty dumpster in the back of an alleyway, where she sat and pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to keep the cold out to no avail; she still shivered. Desperate, she rummaged around in her backpack for another jacket or something else to cover herself with and became curious when she noticed the corner of a book peeking out of her bag.

She pulled it out. It was very large and thick with paper, that kind of paper you use to store photos in. Regina opened the book, leaning over it as to not let the drizzle wet the pages, and immediately found a piece of paper tucked into the plastic cover on the front page. Without taking it out of the plastic wrap, she read:

My dearest Regina;

While I'm writing this, you're still inside my tummy, growing diligently. I can feel you moving, though, and I know it won't be long now before you're ready to come out and face the world.

I feel I owe you an explanation, Regina, as to why we are the way we are, or why Mommy is so young, or why your grandma will tell you I never went to collage. I'm not going to go because I have you, and you are much more important than I am, much more important than any school. I'll stay behind and take care of you, but please don't ever feel guilty, my child, I may not have chosen this life, but I embrace it.

Should I tell you about your father? That's a hard question. Part of me doesn't want to, because it's unlikely he'll ever be in my life again or your life at all, but you deserve to know, my daughter, so I'll tell you all I know…

Your father and I were fifteen when we met. To me, back then he was perfect. He was caring and kind and I thought he loved me. I truly did. But as time went on, I saw warning signs, warnings I should have paid attention to, but I didn't. And, almost as if by an exchange, as soon as you came into the picture, he left it. The only reason I bring him up at all, my child, is I'm hoping and praying that you won't make the same mistake I did, and believe it when a man tells you he loves you without it being true. I hope I can teach you to read in between the lines, and maybe learn how myself.

But what your father did or didn't do isn't important here, that's not the point of this letter. The point is to tell you one thing I hope I'll be able to tell you every day while you're growing up; to me, you are the most important person in the world right now. You are the cutest little girl and the most beautiful young woman I will ever know. You are the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I go to bed at night. You are the one who will succeed where I failed, and I love you, Regina, I love you more than I love anything or anyone else.

Godspeed, my little angel.

With dearest love,

-Lynne Warren, Mommy.

Regina's hands shook as she read over the last sentences of the letter. She pulled it out of the covering and felt along the crumpled, slightly yellow edges of the paper, just to make sure it was truly real and truly there, and that she wasn't imagining things.

This was the mother she'd never had, the loving smile she'd never seen. The woman who'd hoped and promised to be there throughout Regina's childhood, and she'd never been. She had already departed.

She knew the letter was supposed to bring her some comfort, but starring down at the last remains of hope she'd ever had, she felt more alone and abandoned than ever.

The rain beat down on her even harder, soaking her to the bone as a stream of tears continued down her face, perhaps drops of blood from her broken heart.

No one noticed the crying girl sitting on the dumpster for quite a while. Regina stayed up there for hours, wishing to fade away into the empty darkness and cease to exist.

---

Among her eyes there once was fear.
Of rejection,
It was clear.
Now her eyes have lost the shine,
None knew that she was drawing near.

---

Several months passed by, the cold beginning to settle on the little town. Snow and ice gathered around roads and piled up on the outskirts, making the lonely little buildings and shops almost unable to unbury themselves.

Along the side of the road, a girl traveled. Her long white hair was knotted and dirty with leaves and gravel sticking in the knots. Her face was smudged with grime, her jeans were torn, dirty, and wet around the ankles, her once white tank top now was grey from dirt, and her black fleece jacket offered what looked like little protection from the cold.

She limped down the road, clutching her jacket closed and holding a black backpack with the other. Her head hung limply, as did her jaw, her mouth open slightly as she panted, her skinny legs struggling with every step. Cars passed her on the road, but not one stopped for her, not one took notice of her.

The world had not been kind to Regina Warren, not kind at all.

Her stomach growled for the twelfth time that night, and she clutched her showing ribs to ease the hunger pangs. She looked around at the dirty, dark road, but saw only ice and snow and trees and pavement, no civilization anywhere.

She kept walking.

Her shoes had already started to come apart, and the snow seeped into the soles, chilling her feet. She couldn't feel her toes anymore, she wondered if they were even still there…?

Finally she caught sight of a tiny yellow light in the distance. It could have been a streetlight, or just another abandoned car whose headlights had been left on, but Regina was cold and starving, and that little light looked like the light of heaven to her.

She quickened her steps and soon enough she was running. Her vision blurred and her legs were numb, but she could see the light in the distance, and it was still on and shining brightly, and when she finally got close enough to see that it was, indeed, a building, she tripped and fell on the wooden steps.

Regina managed to haul herself up, despite her arms being nothing more than bones covered in skin, and limped into the building.

It was a convenience store, one of those roadside ones for people traveling cross country. At this time of night only a few people were there, but it was still busy enough that no one noticed her.

She checked her backpack. Inside were only some extra clothes, a torn pillow, and her mother's photo album. No money.

Still, she was so hungry, and she could smell the dried beef jerky all the way from the door…

Regina weaved through the isles slowly, careful to not let her shoes smack against the tile floor. She reached the snack isle, which was lined up and down with sugary and salted foods that could not possibly have been healthy, but she didn't care, she was so hungry. Stifling a sob of fear, Regina carefully pulled a packet of salted beef jerky off of the shelf and shoved it into her backpack.

Now she just had to get out…

She continued walking slowly, resisting the urge to break into a run. Her hands shook and her knees felt weak, like they might collapse on her at any moment.

The door was so close…

Her stomach growled again, and she was hit with a wave of nausea that was undoubtedly from not having eaten in so long. Her arms were so weak she could barely hold her backpack, and she tried to keep herself from breaking out into sobs of terror.

She passed the register, where the cashier was helping a young man in a leather jacket, and stopped just for a second, which turned out to be a second too long, because a young child pointed up at her and cried "Mommy, that lady didn't pay for that!"

Regina's heart both hit the floor and began beating at a mile a minute. The cashier looked at her, while she just stood their, her breath caught in her throat, her unspoken excuse still hanging in her mind.

"You trying to steal from me, missy?" The cashier said, standing up. He was a tall, big man, and could probably easily crush her if he so wished to.

Regina stammered. She was panicking, desperate, and so hungry she couldn't process what was happening. She wanted to not be there. She wished she'd never found this place, no matter how hungry she was. She was so afraid…

Suddenly a new voice floated through the air. "Hold on, honey, I haven't paid for that yet."

She looked up. The young man in the leather jacket was looking down at her, smiling surely, his deep blue-green eyes catching hold of hers.

He gently took the packet of jerky from her and brought it to the register, handing it to the cashier. "Sorry about that, we've had a long drive, she gets a bit absent minded when she's tired."

The cashier nodded and rang up the food, not taking his eyes off Regina, who now hung her head in shame and confusion. She looked up again when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and saw the young man escorting her outside, waving goodbye to the people in the store.

Once outside, he sat her down on a wooden bench in the parking lot and handed her the "stolen" item, which she grabbed away and tore open, muttering a thank you whilst tearing into the dried meat with her teeth.

She had expected him to leave after that, and was surprised when she looked up again to see him still sitting there, a hand on his knee, giving her a lopsided smile.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

He laughed. "I'm just curious as to what a pretty young girl like you is doing all the way out here stealing from roadside shacks."

Regina blushed and looked away. "It's a long story…and it's not important."

He nudged her gently with his shoulder. "Come on, it's gotta be pretty damn important if you're stealing that shit because of it.

"I'm homeless…" Regina whispered, looking away. "That's all."

He nodded. "I get it."

"Are you, too?" She asked, looking up.

"Nah, not anymore. Used to be; now I've got a crappy shack a few hours away. But I've been there."

Regina felt herself smile along with him.

He flashed her another grin and clicked his tongue. "The name's Jonas, but my friends call me Jo. That is they would if they still talked to me."

Regina laughed at that. "I'm Regina Warren."

Jo nodded. Yes, his hair was messy, his teeth were a bit crooked, and his clothes looked like he'd stolen them from a bankrupt biker, but his eyes were so deep and friendly, and he was the first person to even acknowledge her existence in seven months.

While Regina was lost starring into his eyes, he leaned back and asked her "Where are you headed, Regina?"

This snapped her out of her trance. "Um…nowhere…anywhere…I don't know…"

"Tell you what…" he put a hand on her knee. "I wasn't kidding when I said I had a shack. It's about five hours from here, but since you've got nowhere to go, maybe you'd like to head up with me?"

Regina stiffened up on instinct. "I…I don't…I don't know you…I mean, not that I'm not thankful…just…you might be planning to rape or kill me…"

Jo took his hand off her knee. "Why would I do that?"

"Because…I don't know…I don't even know who you are…"

"My names Jo, I'm from Florida, my dad was a banker and my mom was a cleaning lady, I dropped out of high school after they died and set out on my own, I was once a cashier at McDonalds, I've had three girlfriends, all of whom were sluts, and I've never raped any of them." He replied, long and steady.

"Are you lying?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die." Jo smirked at her again. "Look, sweetie pie, I'm only asking because it's gonna get below 10 degrees tonight, and I don't want you to freeze. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to." He smiled again. "Tell you what, I'll go sit by my car, it's the black pickup at the end. If you wanna come with me, meet me in five minutes. If not, I'll leave you alone, and we'll part ways as unlikely friends." He stood up, taking the rest of his things. "I'll be waiting, Regina." He walked off, and Regina saw him open up the door to his car, get inside, and stay completely still.

She looked down at the jerky in her hands, then around at the parking lot. He might have been a rapist or killer, but he was also the only person to acknowledge her existence besides an occasional "Hey, you." He had offered her a home, a place to sleep where she wouldn't wake up covered in snow and gravel and with killer frostbite or a cold. Not to mention, he'd saved her in her time of need, and he hadn't had to. He'd have gotten nothing from it, aside from short a few dollars.

And even if he was a killer, it wasn't like she had much to live for anyway.

By the time Jo looked up again, Regina was at the passenger window, knocking and clutching her backpack to her chest, a hopeful smile on her face. He smiled back and unlocked the door, allowing her entrance.

As soon as she got inside, she almost shivered at how warm and comfortable the seat was. She had become so used to park benches and ditches and roadside corners that she'd forgotten what it was to be comfortable.

Jo unlocked the parking brake and started up the car. "Let's go home, sweetie pie." He whispered, and they pulled out of the parking lot.

As they traveled along the empty, snowy mountain roads, Regina felt herself nodding off. She stole a final glance over at Jo, who smiled softly at her and brushed her hair back gently with one finger.

She smiled, and, submitting to the heaviness of her eyelids, sank into a deep, peaceful sleep, the first she'd had in months.

---

The air was hot and heavy with moisture and the lingering scent of sex. Surprisingly the pillows and blankets on the tiny bed had managed to stay on, however rumpled they had become. The sheets were stained and wet, but they were warm so neither occupant really cared.

Regina opened her eyes again, unable to fall asleep. She still felt sticky with sweat and…other unmentionable fluids. Next to her, Jo lay with his back to her, dozing but not quite sleeping.

She closed her eyes again, preparing to try once again to fall into a secure slumber, before Jo's voice shocked her out of it.

"You're definitely the thinnest girl I've ever been with." He whispered.

Regina smiled. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No." He replied. "Just different."

"And that's why you waited two weeks before trying to have sex with me?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing~" Jo smirked at her.

Regina giggled.

"I didn't want to hurt you, that's all." Jo added, snuggling up next to her. "You were so tiny I thought I'd break you if I tried anything."

"Well," Regina replied, curling up in his embrace "thank you for being such a gentleman."

They lay in silence for a while, before Regina interrupted this time. "How was I compared to the others?"

Jo opened one eye. "Hm?"

"You said I was the thinnest girl you've ever been with." She said "That means there were others, right?"

Jo nodded. "Yeah."

"Three, I'm guessing?"

"Well, seven, including you." He replied. "Three, well, now four of them were my girlfriends and three were just one night stands." He shrugged. "I can't compare girls. Each one's different, you know?" He kissed her bare shoulder and whispered "What about you? Was I your first?"

Regina wanted to say yes, it just made it that much more special, but after hearing about how many others Jo had been with, how many girls had the pleasure of being with him like she had, it didn't seem…cool to say she'd been a virgin before this. She didn't want him to be intimidated, or worse, think of her as inexperienced and lame.

"No…" She lied. "There was one other."

"Only one?" Jo asked her, running a hand through her hair. "For someone like you?"

She nodded. "He was the son of a politician, about three years older than me. We met when I was in high school, and he was studying at a university while his father was in Denmark." She breathed a sigh. "I never knew what to say to him…he was thin, couldn't lift a weight to save his life, but he was tall, very, very tall, with skin as fair as fresh snow…and pitch black hair that was…soft to the touch." She closed her eyes. "And his eyes…his eyes. They were so deep, so strong, a kind of purplish blue, like the color the air turns when there are clouds in the sky, just after a storm…and the air is clean and cool…" Now she sighed. "I loved him…but only once…he never truly loved me."

Jo said nothing, so she continued.

"He loved another girl, he was obsessed with her, and it only got worse as time went on…after a while, he just forgot about me, like I'd never existed, and just went after her, even though she was in love with someone else, and was very happy with him…" She clutched the sheets. "I hated her…even though it wasn't her fault, I hated her for rejecting him, for making him feel that way, but I also hated her just for attracting his attention in a way I never could." She paused.

"Do you still love him?" Was the only thing Jo asked.

Regina thought back to the library garden, spending her days on the bench with Jerome, talking about everything and nothing, sharing their deepest secrets and fears, their similarities and differences. She thought back to the town square, and seeing him sullenly watching the girl with strawberry-blonde hair as she conversed happily with her lover. She remembered waiting at the library for him; only to one day realize she would never see him again.

Then she remembered sitting on her bed, curled up with a copy of Great Expectations, hoping and praying that somehow, someway, he would hear her thoughts, feel her love for him, and forget his infatuation with this girl and fall into that passionate fairytale love with her.

"No…" she lied again "I don't love him anymore."

---

She supposed things could have been worse.

She watched the tiny droplets of water leak through the hole in the roof that hadn't been repaired since she came to live there, but it was no matter, it would be fixed…eventually.

At the moment, she didn't know where Jo was. Lately, it wasn't unusual for him to disappear for days at a time. Sometimes he'd come home in a drunken stupor and smelling like urinated whiskey, but he'd get better…eventually.

Regina sighed as she put the cracked plate back in the cupboard. Their daily income had been stunted greatly. Jo made most of his money by buying things at shoddy stores and selling them online. She managed to make a little using this method, here and there, which was the only reason why they still had a roof over their heads. She didn't know what Jo spent the money on, it wasn't the mortgage, but sales would go up again…eventually.

Suddenly, Regina heard the door open, and a muffled groan as her boyfriend dragged himself inside, muttering "Reggie…Reggie…"

She approached him timidly and put her arms around the drunken man. "I'm here. Welcome home."

He kissed her then, and his chapped lips tasted like brandy and cigarette smoke. She leaned into it, but only for a second. However, when she tried to pull away, he just held her tighter.

Inwardly she sighed. It was going to be another one of these nights. All she could do was hold her breath and hope it would be over quickly.

And of course, it wasn't. He took her to the bedroom, at which she didn't protest, and had his way with her several times before finally dozing off, leaving her bruised and exhausted.

She tried to snuggle against him, but he didn't respond, so she simply laid there. About two hours later, he awoke again, and she saw in the darkness his blue-green eyes gleaming with drunken lust. He climbed on top of her and kissed her again, nuzzling her neck and pinning her hips down with his knees, and for a moment she felt happy, like she mattered something to him. She wasn't being ignored anymore, he must have loved her.

He finished again, several minutes later, and she had to admit the activity had brought her pleasure. She felt like she was loved, especially when he just happened to collapse on top of her and fall dead asleep on her thin form. Regina sighed and wrapped her arms around him, cuddling him close.

However, only another few hours later, he awoke again. She kissed his forehead and wished him good morning, but he only pulled away from her.

She watched as he stood up and began to get dressed. He didn't look at her when she said his name, and when he left he only muttered something about "be home later" and exited the room and the house, leaving Regina cold and sad and alone again.

It was then Regina realized something, as she sat up in bed. There was no eventually, and things wouldn't get better. Jo wouldn't stop drinking, the sales wouldn't get better, they would keep on struggling, the roof wouldn't be fixed.

Sadness washed over her as she thought about him; he was supposed to be her knight in shining armor, her messiah, the one who would rescue her from this life of torment.

Instead she got this; yet another taste of the darkest points of real life.

She fell asleep again, fitfully. In the morning she felt nauseous, probably from crying, and had to make a run for the bathroom to throw up before starting breakfast.

She finished and flushed the toilet, feeling like the epitome of death, and looking around the bathroom, found her stashed away coin jar, filled with dollar bills and some pennies, the only money she had.

But it was money.

She didn't know where she could go, but she couldn't stay there.

---

As Regina starred down at the test in her hand, she took a deep breath and whispered "This doesn't change a thing."

She had to leave. It didn't matter what the test said. Even if it turned out to be triplets, a positive pregnancy test could not change her mind.

But still…

This did throw a monkey wrench into her plans. She couldn't just go back to being homeless now. She'd either miscarry or give birth out on the street, and neither seemed like a desirable option. She began to consider an abortion, but she had no insurance and doctors charged through the nose for one. She thought about leaving it at an orphanage…oh, right, there were no orphanages there.

Defeated, Regina sat down on the bathroom floor. She didn't want to be pregnant. She couldn't be pregnant. Not right now. She couldn't afford a baby, even if she stayed with Jo. She couldn't afford to send her child to school, she couldn't afford a hospital if it got sick, and she most definitely couldn't afford to pay for a desirable future for it. She and Jo were living off peanuts; they could barely feed themselves, and now another human being was about to come along, a human being that would depend on them entirely for it's survival.

She had never been so terrified.

A wave of nausea hit her, and she gagged, trying to suppress her morning sickness to no avail. She leaned over and vomited, tears streaming down her face and her nose running as she did.

This was awful. She felt awful. She wanted all this to be a horrible nightmare that she could wake up from.

Of course, it wasn't a nightmare.

Fate had never been that kind to Regina Warren, or her unborn baby.

---

Regina left the bathroom quietly, careful not to make any noise. She didn't know if Jo was home or not, but she couldn't risk being caught.

As she heard a thud and a loud string of swear words come from the kitchen, her heart sank as she realized he was home. She timidly made her way down the hall, approaching the living room adjacent to the kitchen, and caught sight of Jo again.

Looking him up and down, she felt sick and sad at the same time. She remembered when this man had been kind, and helpful, and he'd at least pretended like he loved her. Now his skin was dry and blistered, his teeth were falling out, and his hair looked like it had been rubbed down with motor oil, which she supposed could have happened. He was known to come home in stranger conditions.

Regina hid her pregnancy test in her back pocket, sighing. She'd have to figure out what to do, but that wasn't now. A thought ran across her mind of maybe being able to stay with Jo, and perhaps having a child would get him to sharpen up, but she doubted it. If he couldn't change for her, he wouldn't change for a baby.

Stifling a sob, Regina turned back to the bathroom and locked the door, prying open the bottom cupboard to grab her money jar…

Which was gone.

Confused, she brushed aside some old bathroom accessories to find nothing. She dug through the cabinet to find nothing. In a blind panic, she tore apart the bathroom to find nothing.

Regina clutched her head. She had to stay calm. She had to think. She never moved her jar out of the bathroom, so where could it…?

Jo.

It was awful to assume so, but she knew Jo had something to do with it.

More furious than scared now, Regina tore into the kitchen, slamming her hand on the counter, making Jo jump.

"Where is it?" She demanded.

"Where's what?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"My money." She replied in a shaky voice. "The money in the jar in the bathroom. The money that was mine!" She clenched her fists. "Where is it?"

Jo looked at her, confused, before he slowly nodded his head. "Oh…that was yours?"

"What did you do with it?" She questioned, now scared.

He shrugged. "Look, Reggie, the guys and me went out for a game of cards…and, y'know, I lost, and I needed some way to pay 'em off, so…" He held up his hands. "It was all I could do."

She felt her heart sink. "So…it's gone?"

"Yeah, sorry babe, I didn't know." She could tell he was lying. She could hear it in his voice, but she was too defeated and tired to call him out.

It didn't matter, all that mattered was her only escape had been closed off, and now she was stuck.

She might as well tell him…

"It's alright…" She whispered. "I just needed it…"

"For what?" Jo asked, already turning his attention back to the fridge.

"For…um…a crib, maybe…" She said timidly.

Jo stopped. "Um…Reggie, what the hell do we need a crib for?"

"Of course, if that's too expensive, a bassinet would work too-"

"Reggie!" Jo whirled around and looked at her with wild eyes. "You didn't answer me!"

Regina looked down. "Why else would I need a crib?"

"Don't get smart with me, Reggie!" He shouted, and she could tell he was getting angry. "Answer me! Now!"

She felt tears spill over. "There's a baby…our baby…inside me…I'm pregnant…" She clasped her hands together. "I'm pregnant, that's why we need a crib…and clothes…and food-"

Suddenly Jo slammed his fist against the wall, shouting a string of curses. It wasn't long before he turned his wild eyes on her.

"How the hell'd you let this happen?!" He screamed at her. "I thought you were on the pill!"

"You told me to stop buying it because it costs too much…" She replied. "And I thought you were wearing a condom…"

"Oh, so it's my fault now, is it?!" He snapped at her.

"No!" She cried. "No, it's no one's fault, it just…happened, you know? Sometimes things happen, and…it's not your fault, and it's not my fault."

"Well I hope your happy then, because you've just royally screwed us over." Jo growled. "We can't afford another mouth to feed."

"Maybe…if you stopped drinking we could." She replied quietly.

"Maybe I could just throw you out and not have to worry about either of you anymore." Jo's voice was dangerously low, and those words made her head snap up and her eyes grow wide, but before she could utter a cry of protest, he blew past her and headed for the front door.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Out." He replied simply, before he slammed the door shut. Regina herd the sound of his beat up old car starting, and the puttering engine getting fainter and fainter as he drove away.

Defeated, Regina sat down on the couch and began to cry. Never since she was a child had she felt so lost, so alone, or so devoid of hope.

---

Where once she slept upon the night,
She's lost, it seems,
Her will to dream.
Emptiness has consumed her mind.
Another one now lost in time.

---

The snowfall had started again, covering the small town in a thin layer of white powder, which would soon be washed away by rain as soon as temperatures once again climbed above 30. Cars occasionally passed slowly, almost sleepily on the desolate road, the air having a sophoric quality to it, as Regina could feel even in the "comfort" of her house…if it could be called that anymore. The little shack had become so run down that it was hard to call it even a building. In several rooms the ceiling had completely fallen out, leaving gaping holes to the outside for bugs and rain to get in.

Regina pulled her thread-bare blanket closer around her, trying to curl up as best she could with her baby-bump pressing against her knees. Once again, Jo was gone, probably off drinking or drag-racing with his buddies. It had been almost a week now, and he hadn't come back, and with a flicker of guilty hope, Regina wondered if he would.

She patted her stomach slowly, feeling the five-month old embryo kick inside gently. She stretched out on her back and pulled her shirt up just above her stomach, watching as an indentation of a little hand or foot pushed through against her skin, tickling her. She smiled and traced her finger across it, and the child responded by kicking her again, twice, then turning over.

This was probably the only thing in her life that brought her any sort of joy. The baby depended on her for its life, its love, it's everything, and it made her feel important. Like she was needed. Like she was loved and could love, a different kind of love than she'd ever felt before. It was warm and burning, like battle-hunger, and urge to protect and fight until her last breath for what she loved, the only thing she had.

It was different from romantic love, like the love she'd felt for Jerome, and still did, or the love she'd once felt for Jo. Those kinds of loves were soft and cool. They tasted sweet, like cool nectar, and wrapped her in a feeling of calmness. This was completely different. This set her on fire, it launched her into action, for her heart would soon be outside her body and inhabiting another little individual, and she would have to protect it with her last breath.

Sighing, Regina painstakingly sat up, and eventually stood up with great difficulty. One hand on her stomach, she made it to the door, and grabbed the newspaper that had been shoved into the mail slot, tearing off the rubber band and examining the front page.

The headline read "TERRIBLE ACCIDENT FOR POLITICIAN'S SON" and it immediately caught her interest. She sat down again and read further.

"At 12:30 A.M., early Sunday morning, a black Ford ran a red light, went speeding into oncoming traffic, and was immediately hit and partially crushed by an oncoming pick-up truck. The car belonged to Jerome Camulus, son of Veovis Camulus, a well-renowned businessman and diplomat-"

Regina felt her breath stop short. Shaking, she continued reading a few lines down.

"-who is currently working abroad. After the accident, the paramedics were called, and declared Camulus unresponsive, thus transferring him to the hospital. He was inflicted with several broken ribs and two punctured lungs, as well as a crushed radius and ulna (forearm) and severe blood loss from several lacerations. He remains in intensive care, however doctors say that his brain activity is near zero, and he cannot perform any vital functions without the use of machinery. He remains in a coma under supervision from medical staff. Investigators claim that prior to the incident, Camulus had made a phone call to an undetermined number, and witnesses driving near him claimed to have heard him yelling "almost desperately." The name or number of the individual called has not been released to privacy reasons."

She stopped reading there, letting the newspaper drop onto the ground.

It was Mii. He'd finally done it…he'd chased her too far. It must have been Mii he'd been on the phone with, and her rejection had driven him mad.

She wanted to be mad at her, but she knew it wasn't fair. Mii had nothing to do with this. She couldn't help not loving Jerome. She was already in love. It wasn't her fault.

Regina threw her head into her hands and sniveled quietly, a familiar feeling of loneliness washing over her. She choked on her own tears as she wept, praying for this not to be real. Not the man she loved. Not him. Anyone but him.

What more could life take away from her? How could it tear her apart any further? She was heartbroken and lost, with nowhere to turn and no one to help.

Then she felt the baby kick again, almost like it was worried about her.

Regina stopped crying and looked down at her belly. She smiled sadly and stroked it, assuring the child she was alright, whispering there was nothing to fear, Mommy wouldn't cry anymore.

Suddenly she understood where her own mother gotten her strength from at only sixteen. Her love for her child kept her breathing every day.

In this time of hopelessness, her child would help her through. In Jerome's near-death, her baby would save her.

---

Two months later, nothing had really changed.

Regina still stayed at home, mostly, and Jo came home less and less, never actually speaking to her, but that was alright. She rested more often than not, being careful with her health, or as careful as she could in the conditions she lived in. Her baby grew livelier by the day, sometimes acting like it wanted to pry it way out of her, but they both knew it was too early to be born just yet.

She lay that evening, resting on the bed in their bedroom, one of the two rooms that were still completely enclosed, when she heard the door open and Jo grunt as he stumbled his way inside.

Instead of getting up to greet him, Regina turned over onto her side, hoping to go back to sleep.

She heard his uneven footsteps in the hallway, and then he called out in a broken voice "Reggie! You there!" She heard a thud as he fell against the wall. "Reggie!"

Regina groaned and rolled her eyes.

Suddenly the door to the bedroom flew open, and something grabbed her arm and yanked her violently into a sitting position.

Regina cried out as the forceful grip on her arm, and starred up into Jo's glazed over eyes, looking at her hungrily.

"Jo…" She whispered. "I didn't hear you come in."

But he seemed not to be paying attention. He took her chin in his fingers and kissed along her neck roughly, moaning as he did. His hands slid over her shoulders and down to her chest…

"I missed you, baby~" he whispered, his voice horse. "I missed you so much, baby. You don't know…" His hands searched her, violating every inch of her body "You don't know how much I missed you."

"Jo…" She was getting scared and, not wanting to agitate him, tried to gently pull away. "Not right now…"

Jo grabbed her by the front of the shirt then and jerked her back toward him. He crushed his lips against hers in a sloppy kiss that tasted like beer and smoke and pretzels, biting down hard on her lip so it hurt, and she whimpered.

She didn't want to have sex with him. She was seven months pregnant; the baby might get hurt…

She tried again, slowly pulling away from him, removing his hands. "Jo…" She whispered "I know you aren't feeling well, how about I make you some dinner?"

In his drunken state, Jo nodded, dazed.

"I'll make you something nice." She whispered, slowly standing up as best she could, one hand cupping her baby bump. "You'll love it."

Jo nodded again, still dazed, and followed her out of the room.

A wave of relief and triumph washed over Regina as she made her way down the hall-

Suddenly Jo grabbed her arm again, even harder this time, and twisted her around to look at him, growling. She screamed at the force he used, struggling against his grip, panic growing in her throat as she muttered fearful protest that were lost on deaf ears.

Jo didn't listen. He threw open the door to the closest room, the bathroom, and threw her inside. She landed on her hands and knees on the floor and struggled to stand, but Jo grabbed her by the hair and flipped her onto her back before she could.

She struggled, petrified, as Jo held her hands down beside her head forcefully. He growled again, acting more like a violent animal than a human being, and Regina felt tears slip down her cheeks.

He kissed her neck forcefully again, biting down on it, and unable to stop him, Regina screamed.

---

It was several hours before he had finished. Regina's nightgown lay in tatters across the bathroom, stained with blood. Her hair was knotted and several strands had been ripped out from Jo's first assault. She was bruised and beaten, bits of her flesh torn away to scabbing wounds and cuts as she lay sprawled across the bathroom floor, in too much pain to move.

Jo got up. He was dazed again, acting almost like a robot as he put his pants and shirt back on. She watched as he moved mechanically, his mouth slightly agape as he finished dressing. When he was done, he opened the door and left, not bothering to look at her once.

Carefully, Regina began to pick herself up off the ground. Her stomach ached badly, as did her back and her legs, but then again, everything hurt, and it was hard to tell what hurt the most.

She stood up, using the counter as support for her wobbly legs that felt like jelly, and turned on the hot water, which began to fill the bathtub.

Waiting, Regina lowered herself back onto her knees, groaning with the pain of the effort. She leaned forward and rubbed her stomach to help ease the pain somewhat, and it helped a little, but not much.

The bathtub was full before she knew it, and she turned off the water and climbed inside. The hot water helped ease the ache a little, and for a while at least she could relax, but she began to drain the tub more came back, rhythmic now, and much stronger.

Panting, Regina took a towel and made it to the bedroom, where she lay down and enveloped herself in blankets until she was covered. The pain got worse, going and coming back every few minutes, and she began to cry, it hurt so badly.

After several hours, the pain became so unbearable she couldn't stand. No use trying to walk, she couldn't move her legs. Desperate for relief, she turned onto her back, which didn't help at all, and arched backward, crying out at the stabbing feeling in her belly.

She gasped like a fish, trying to keep a handle on herself, but she just couldn't do it. She was panicking, she was fearful, she knew she was dying, undoubtedly, she was going to die. Another pain, the worst of all of them, hit her, and she cried out, leaned forward, and braced herself against the bed. The pain began to subside, and a strange noise hit the air, and when Regina opened her eyes she gasped in shock.

Her baby lay on the bed in front of her, its eyes closed, wailing, with skin that was rash red and itty-bitty limbs and swollen eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat. She'd just given birth.

Regina took a deep breath. She dared not call a hospital; she definitely couldn't afford a hospital, the bills would be far too high, she couldn't…She'd have to help her baby here.

She looked around. Jo had left his pocket knife on the dresser next to the bed, and with some strain she managed to reach it. The pains were starting again, and if she'd learned anything from science class she knew she was about to deliver the placenta, but she could worry about that later.

She cut the umbilical cord, separating her from the baby (who after a brief inspection she determined to be a girl), grabbed a towel from beside her and wrapped the child in it, her tiny body almost weightless under the folds of fabric.

The baby had stopped crying now and started whimpering. Regina lay her on her chest and offered her to breastfeed, which she did, albeit very slowly and softly. While her daughter did so, Regina lay back against the pillows and focused on ridding herself of the organ that had provided her child with nutrients for seven months. It didn't take as long and it wasn't as painful, but she was glad when she finally looked down and saw the mass of flesh lying before her.

Slowly, Regina stood. She was sore everywhere, still bruised from her assault several hours ago, and now exhausted from birth. Gently, she laid her daughter on the bed and managed to, slowly, dress herself again into some sweat-clothes, her belly still slightly distended, and went back to her baby.

It was then that Regina really wished the house had heat, her premature daughter couldn't make enough heat on her own and it was so cold here. Holding the child, she could see her daughter struggling to keep her tiny eyes open, and her breaths seemed short and uneven.

Regina looked about her. She still couldn't call an ambulance, and besides, even if she did, who's to say they would actually help her? If they found out she couldn't pay, wouldn't it be more likely that they would refuse to treat her?

But right now, her baby, born far too early, was on the verge of death, and she had to do something.

She ran to the kitchen and, in desperation, turned on the oven. It took a few minutes, but the air around it began to warm up, and Regina relaxed, at least a little. She sat down on the floor next to the oven, holding her baby tightly, praying under her breath, all while smiling down at her little one and assuring her everything would be fine.

Things had calmed down now, at least a bit, and Regina began to converse with the newborn, whispering little stories to her, before she looked down at her and realized…

"A name." She cried. "You don't have a name yet."

The baby wheezed and whimpered, making Regina's heart break. She stifled tears as she held her daughter against her shoulder and cuddled her, all while reading off a list of names to her.

"Let's see…there's Allison or Abigail…" She looked over at her baby, who had snuggled into her shoulder, and tears ran down her face. "Aerial, I had a cousin named that…" She shook her head. "No…you need something regal…" She held her daughter in her lap now, and discovered that the infant was becoming sluggish. Her breath would catch for a second or two before continuing in an uneven pattern.

Regina choked back a sob, but the tears escaped. "You need something important…because you're so important to me…you are the most important thing in my life right now, darling. You…are what keeps me hanging on…"

The baby began to go limp in her arms, and Regina was panicking.

"You're my little girl, and you always will be. You'll be so much better than I am. You'll learn from Mommy's mistakes, and you'll do better. You'll fall in love, you'll write a book, you'll go to college, you'll be everything Mommy couldn't be, everything your grandma wanted for your mommy, but Mommy screwed up…" Regina sobbed and wiped the tears away. "Mommy screwed up, but you'll learn from my mistakes."

The baby coughed, and blood dribbled down the corners of her tiny mouth.

"You'll be a…a painter, like Artemisia Gentileschi…" She smiled desperately. "Yes…that's a wonderful name for you…Artemisia…" She stroked the baby's head. "It's perfect…It's beautiful…like you…" Tears ran down her face. "Artemisia, don't die. Hold on for Mommy…hold on for Mommy…you're almost there…you're my little girl…you're perfect…"

The child blinked once, twice, then sighed, and it was like a candle had been blown out, and all the life left her, and she went limp in Regina's arms.

If life hadn't destroyed her already, this time it had. Never had she felt such despair and loneliness. Never had she been so heartbroken. Never had she wanted to die as badly as she did then.

Regina clutched Artemisia's corpse to her chest and sobbed, hoping and praying for a miraculous change, but five hours later, her child had gone stiff and cold, and never would she wake again.

Regina threw her head back, screaming and sobbing, shrieking a curse to the sky. What had she done to be punished this way? Why? Why? Why?

Why?

---

The snow had given way to rain, melting the white powder and draining into rivers and sewers. Clouds covered the sky, giving it a crimson tinge as the orange light of the streetlights mixed with it.

Regina starred down at the open hole in her empty backyard. She held Artemisia's stiff corpse in her arms, trying as hard as she could not to collapse into a pile of misery and wait for the storm to end her. She wished she was burying herself along with her daughter…

Slowly, she knelt before the ground and held out the infant, wrapped completely in white blankets, and hesitated. She didn't want to bury her, for in doing so she would be admitting she was dead, and she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to accept that yet.

But as she looked at her only child's stiff body, dead so soon after entering life, she knew she'd already accepted it, for this heartbreak could only be felt by someone who'd tasted death to the fullest.

So, slowly, she lowered the baby into the empty grave, looked at her once more, just to be sure of the fact she really was dead, then turned away, grabbed the shovel, and scoop by scoop buried her first and only child by herself.

The process took longer than she would have liked, for every shovel-full seemed like it weighed the world, but eventually it was done.

No birth certificate, no death certificate, nothing to prove Artemisia Warren had ever existed but the tombstone she had erected herself with a slab of brick and a blowtorch, which read her daughter's full name and her birth date. No need for a death date, they were one and the same.

Regina took one last look at her child's grave, proof that all hope was lost. Her mother was dead, and now her child had gone to join her. She had no friends, no family, no lover, nothing. She was alone.

Slowly and blankly, Regina retreated back inside the house. The oven was still on, so the house was warm, but everything felt cold to her. She made her way through the dark and dreary hallways, the shadows seemly reaching out to touch her in her sorrow, whispering to her. She saw the bloodstains and remnants of her nightgown still on the bathroom floor, as well as soap lines from her previous bath. In the bedroom, she scraped the dried up placenta and blood off the sheets. It stained deeply, and she doubted she'd ever be able to get it out, but alas, that could probably wait. A while. Or forever. Maybe she'd never sleep again.

She changed out of her muddy clothes robotically, putting on her nicest shirt and a simple pair of leggings. This was her day of mourning, and this would be her funeral attire.

She could be like Miss Havisham from Great Expectations. She could take a seat in the living room perhaps, and never move again. She would wait until she starved, or froze, or the house burned down or whatever.

But before she could, Regina heard the door unlock, a muffled groan, and unsteady footsteps work their way inside.

Anger flared up inside her. She recognized the love she'd held for Artemisia, the burning powerful love, fueling her rage, turning it into energy, and with a burst of strength she dove out the door and marched into the kitchen, where Jo stood, staggering and tipsy.

He saw her, and immediately a crooked smirk formed on his face. He opened his arms to her, and she stood stock still, her breath echoing in her ears.

Jo embraced her, tightly, and by where he placed his hands she knew he was thinking he'd get lucky again. He leaned forward to try to kiss her, and that was the breaking point. She slapped him, hard enough to send him staggering and make her hand sting, and with that pushed him away from her as hard as she could.

He stumbled, confused, and looked at her. Suddenly his eyes turned wild and he growled like an animal, but Regina was through and done. She was heartbroken and lonely and so, so angry, and the last thing he would be getting from her was sex.

"I should have left you seven months ago." She spat. "You can't take advantage of me tonight, or ever again. I've had it with you." Her voice was so low and threatening she barely recognized herself.

Jo snarled. "This is all because you're pregnant, isn't it? You think that damn brat's gonna stop me? I never wanted it in the first place. Reggie, you know it'd be better for us if it died. We can't afford it."

Suddenly, all the anger Regina had ever felt in her life rose up and exploded. She was angry at her aunt and uncle, angry and Jerome, angry at Mii, angry at her mother, angry at herself, and angry at Jo.

And Jo was the one who happened to be in her way.

She rushed at him, fingernails clawing at him, throwing punches and kicking him, screaming and cursing as loud and passionately as she ever had. Jo fought back hard, grabbing at her arms and throwing her to the ground, but she was too fired up, she never stayed down long.

Eventually, Jo got a hold of her neck and wrapped his fingers around her throat in a crushing hold. Regina was pushed against the counter, claws and hair flying as she screamed and gagged. But Regina was riled, far too riled to stop now, and she was willing to use any resource open to her.

She searched with her hands frantically, until her palm slid across something sharp.

It was the blade of a kitchen knife.

It was perfect.

Determined now, she grabbed it by the blade and pulled it closer to her so she could get a grip on the handle, and before Jo knew what was going on, she drove the steel deep into the side of his chest.

Jo cried out in pain, staggered back, and fell. Regina stopped for a second to catch her breath, but the heat of anger was ceaseless. She pounced on Jo, straddling him and holding his arms above his head like he'd done do her not a day ago.

Regina saw nothing but red and black around the edges of her vision. She looked down at him, her red eyes almost glowing, and whispered "You killed my baby."

Then she stabbed, again and again, downward onto his chest. She saw herself hit his shoulder and down lower near his stomach, but it seemed like she wasn't in control of herself anymore. She could barely see. She couldn't stop her arms as they moved rhythmically up and down, up and down. She felt stickiness on the hand that was holding the blade, but it wasn't until she stopped, the burning fire finally ceasing its ravishing hold on her form, that she looked down at her hand and saw the blood.

Beneath her lay Jo. He was still alive, but just barely, and Regina could hardly recognize him. His chest had been near torn open with the amount of stab wounds it held. She saw blood spurting like geysers from several wounds, including a slash across his neck. Blood pooled around them in a deep puddle, and it covered her clothing and face and hands.

Suddenly all she felt was fear as she gazed down at this dying man she'd once loved. She dropped the knife and with a shaking, bloody hand, lightly touched his face.

His green-blue eyes fluttered, and a tear escaped his eye, and just for a second Regina caught a gimps of the old Jo, the Jo she'd once loved, before he, like Artemisia, went limp in her arms, and like a candle had been blown out, died.

Then Regina screamed.

She'd never screamed like that before. It was blood-curdling, a shriek that could probably be heard across the earth, undoubtedly causing every world citizen to feel a short, stabbing pain in their chest where their heart was, but only for a second, although her scream lasted much longer.

When she stopped, Regina stood, shaking, and ran through the house in a blind panic. She made a grab for her old black backpack, which she'd hidden away in a drawer back when she'd first moved in an eternity ago. She stuffed as much clothing as possible inside, as well as whatever money she could find.

She stopped. She was forgetting something…her mother's picture book.

With trembling hands, Regina grabbed the old photo album out of the drawer and held it close to her chest, sobbing as she did. Stumbling, she made a beeline for the door, grabbing the keys off the counter, which the dead man had placed there unsuspectingly minutes before he was murdered.

Regina dashed into the driveway, threw her stuff into the car, started the ignition, and drove away at the speed of light…or what felt like it. Her nerves were shot, her heart was racing, and she couldn't stop crying as the sheer weight of everything pressing down on her like a ton of bricks…a million tons of bricks.

Regina turned onto a mountain road, which was icy, and the car skidded and almost went flying. She screamed and cursed and managed to pull herself back onto the road, the edge of the cliff looking like a dark abyss of mysteriousness and death. Every rock sent her swerving, every turn made her skid, she had no control, and she realized this was just like her life, she was driving a beat-up old car on an icy mountain road, and she was constantly swerving and skidding, hitting and near-missing. She'd never had control, not since the day she was born. Never.

And in her thoughts and panic and shock, she failed to notice the pair of headlights coming at her until she felt the crushing impact against the hood of the car, the slipping feeling of tires sliding across the ice, and then the freefall.

For a second she was airborne, tumbling through the air, not knowing which way was up or down, until she heard a crash, and breathed in just as water shot through the broken glass windows and filled the car, choking her.

The car settled on the bottom of the river, gently, which was ironic. Regina shook her head to clear it, but it was hard considering the burning feeling of water in her lungs. She was laying upside down, her back pressed against the steering wheel, so she was looking through the sunroof. Her leg was caught in the headrest, and her arm was tangled in something else.

Panicking, Regina tried to yank her arm free, but pain shot up through to her shoulder. She tried again, and the pain intensified, leaving a dull throbbing in its wake.

Regina continued to struggle. She was trapped with no way out. She was going to die, she didn't want to die…she wanted life to get better. She wanted to go to college…and marry Jerome…and have Artemisia…and live in a nice house…and watch her baby go to school…and make friends…and never be alone again…she'd never be alone again…

The light was fading from her vision as her brain went for so long without oxygen. She didn't want to die…she wanted to live…she wanted to get better.

Out through the sunroof, she saw her mother's photo album float across her vision and disappear from sight, and inwardly she sighed.

"I'm sorry, Mother." She thought to herself. "You gave me a life and I wasted it…"

The last thing Regina saw were red, white, and blue lights of the police cars up on the mountain road.

---

She never expected to wake up again.

But when she did, she certainly didn't expect to see a soft sky, or white clouds.

Slowly, she sat up, feeling around her. Was this a dying dream? Or the afterlife?

Her breath seemed to echo in the air, hanging in an empty silence as if to fill an absence of something else, something that was vital and needed to be there but wasn't.

Then she heard voices. They started soft, but grew in volume as she listened.

"Are you sure she is the one?"

"I am sure. Regina Warren, I would know her anywhere."

"Why is she necessary?"

"It was a promise, Jiou. I made a promise to her mother."

"Will she be of usefulness to us, though?"

"She will, I guarantee it."

"Alright then, if Ouru is confident, I am too. Let us welcome her."

"Fine."

In a flash, several figures appeared in a circle around her. None of them looked remotely human, each one resembling some sort of strange toy or figurine.

She squeaked and stood up, afraid to move for fear that these beings would be hostile, but none made a move to hurt her.

Instead, one, the one that looked like a tiki head with limbs, spoke.

"Greetings young lady." He calmly spoke. "You needn't be alarmed; we are the council of the Threshold, here to protect the land of purgatory."

She starred at him.

"We know you quite well, Regina Warren, although here, you will not go by that name." He looked around at the others. "We have a task for you, it's very important."

She gulped. "What is it?"

He gave her what might have been a smile. "You are the first of our new project, a very special one that I, Ouru, have constructed, the army of the Black Stars. You will aid us in releasing the souls from purgatory."

The council raised their arms, and a mirror image rose before her.

She starred. Her reflection…it was her…but it wasn't. Her clothing was totally different…but what got her were the two ram's horn that had grown from the top of her head, curling around her scalp.

"From this moment on…"

She took a deep breath.

"You will be known as…"

She closed her eyes

"Black Star 0000001, Ram, the very first Black Star."

And letting the feeling of triumph overwhelm her, Regina…no…Ram smiled.

---

But she was not Regina. She was no longer Regina. She'd used to be, but she wasn't anymore, and Ram whispered that to herself as she opened her eyes once again and starred out over the empty plains of the purgatory land.

She herself was stagnant, unmoving, unable to cross over, not alive but not fully dead either. She just was now, but at least she was something. At least people paid attention to her now; now they looked at her, they admired her, they came to her for ideas, the younger Black Stars would look up to her for advice, their senior. And even though no one ever really spoke to her on a personal level, no one had really asked her about her strange experiments and personal life (besides Ouru, and even he was too busy to remember sometimes), she was happy.

Ram liked it here. She may have been alone, but she was someone here…wasn't she?

But deep down, in a familiar corner of her now unbeating heart, she couldn't help but imagine a pretty little girl, with blue-green eyes and long brown hair with flowers in it because she loved the smell of flowers, and running with her through a lush yard on a summer day, her tall, black-haired, blue eyed lover, with his thin arms and pale skin, watching them from a seat on the patio, the sun beating down on them…

She remembered that dream. She'd had it many times before.

It was a good dream.

A nice dream.

But it was alright. Ram liked being alone. Or…she supposed she did. She was always alone…

---

She lies with her back on the ground,
A starry sky,
And not one cloud.
While the mockingbirds will wail in grief,
She'll use their song to fall asleep.

---

Well...I won't ask if it was enjoyable but...was it a good read?

I hope I captured Ram's personality and backstory in a way that was satisfying to all of you. I know it was probably horribly painful to get through, but rest assured, the others won't be as bad...well...maybe a few...

Thank you all for reading and have a nice night!

-The Black Maiden