Yeah, yeah! I know. I haven't updated my other one in forever. I'm sorry about that. I haven't been in the writing mood. I haven't even had that much time to read either. ANYWAYS, this story is here because someone *cough*MeGkAtHeRiNe*cough* was adamant about me writing this and posting tonight. I would have had more to this chapter, but, I won't name any names but I just mentioned her, wanted it tonight and I haven't been in the writing mood. The next chapter will come when it comes. This will have to suffice, even if it seems a little forced. Please tell me what you think!
"Emily? Can you look at me?" When Emily kept her eyes firmly on her hands the psychologist tried to get her attention again. "None of this is your fault." Dr. Matthews leaned on his elbows over his desk. This was the third week Emily had visited, though it was the first after she was released from the hospital. At first they talked about her personal life before everything happened. Her friends, her family, her job, but today he decided to try talking to her about why she was really here.
"It was my fault." Her response was constricted and defensive as she spat the words toward the psychologist.
"Why would you say that?" The past weeks only brought futile attempts to bring Emily to talk about what happened, now he could potentially be getting somewhere.
"I never should have let him get hurt."
"Who?" He knew who, of course he knew, it was all she mumbled in her sleep at the hospital. However, small attempts to get her to talk were better than none.
Then she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes while whispering. "Jack."
"DON'T TOUCH HIM, YOU BASTARDS!" Emily screamed from her corner of the room. Her hands were shackled behind her back but she felt if they gave her enough incentive, the chains would easily break. Two men were hunched in the corner across from her blocking her view of the boy. Their shoulders shaking - laughing - and she can only imagine what they are doing to the 5 year old. "Jack? Jack, can you hear me?"
"E-emmy?" Jack's voice broke when he whispered her name. She didn't have to see him to know he was crying. If only he could see her, then he would know everything would be alright.
"Jack? Are you okay, Jack? Did they hurt you? What's going on? Talk to me, Jack. I'm here!" One of the men turned around and put a finger to his lips; as if telling her to be quiet. He was wearing a white, plastic mask. The lips were sealed while a lone, red tear fell from the left eye. The guys hair was covered by a black hood that blended in with the rest of their clothing, the only features they showed were their eyes, even their hands were covered by white gloves.
"Ya. Th-they aren't touching me. They're ju-ust t-trying to scare m-me."
One of the masked men laughed and said, "For now." Then he turned back to the boy. "Watch."
"NO!" She pulled against the chains. "STOP!"