Up until that fateful night nothing particularly special ever really happened to me. Everything I ever did was for my father. I worked hard at school, and dedicated hours of my time to train for my swim team to make him proud. I slaved as a waitress in a disgusting restaurant so that he didn't have to worry about the month's rent. I cooked and cleaned for him, and I always made it evident everyday that I loved him, by telling him, or by giving him one of those big bear hugs he loved so much. I never sincerely thought that there could be another person who could love me as much as my father did.

Love was never in the picture for me, the only thing that was of any importance, was my father. Like I said before, he was really all that mattered.

I was forced awake by a rhythmic aching feeling in the back of my head. My body remained still from the stifling pain, I could not breath, I could not talk, I could not even form a complete thought, because of the throbbing. Instead, I tried to breath evenly through my mouth so that my concentration could shift away from the pain.

I laid there in agony, pure and simple, agony, when like a bolt of lighting I was struck by startling visions that flashed before my eyes. Visions-that I soon realized were actually my memories. I could clearly hear my father's voice screaming my name in my head, and with a sudden vigor I sat up.

My eyes flew open and widened. I gasped, for I gazed upon something I never thought I would see in real life, for it truly was an incredible sight. I laid in a bed, a fairly large sized bed with chrisom sheets and a large, white set of covers on top. It was surrounded by a huge mahogany headboard that lead up to a beautiful red canopy. The walls were also painted a dark red to match the bed. All of the furniture were all also made of mahogany, including a beautiful dresser, night stand, desk and dressing table,.

The room was so exquisite that for a few seconds I forgot my current situation, and all I could do was to slowly take in the sight before me. That phase however, ended quickly and I was horrified and confused as to what exactly was happening to me. My head was suddenly full of jumbled questions. Where was I? Where was my father? Was he alright?

As I thought of all the gruesome possibilities of what might have be happening, I felt another presence in the room. Sure enough I looked to my side and for the first time really looked at a man whom I would come to know very closely.

He sat, elegantly on a plush couch at the corner of the room. Dressed completely in black clothing, that contained a very rich and elegant quality, he silently watched me in my shocked state. For the true reason that I was so flabbergasted, other then every other horrifying fact that was compounding my very being, was that this stranger, who was most probably my kidnapper, and who most definitely watched me as I slept, was wearing full faced, black mask. A mask that was centered by cascading raven locks.

This man in black, who made no physical acknowledgment when seeing me awake, made my blood literally run cold. I never felt such strong fear in my life up until that moment. Every nerve in my body was jumping, yet my body remained still. I breathed rapidly, yet felt like I was being suffocated. I squeezed my hands tightly onto the covers, so much so, that both of my hands made pure white fists, yet I did not feel the heavy covers touching my skin, it felt like I was gripping air. I sat in that paralyzing fear, because the man who sat before gazed intensely at me, with a set of the most incredible eyes I have ever seen.

His eyes were a hazel gold, and with his entire body being covered in black it only accentuated those orbs. I never looked upon something so intense as those eyes, and I do not doubt that any human being who looks at eyes like that for the first time would be just as frightened and fascinated as I was.

While I sat in my stupor and looked wildly at the man beside my bed, certain words began to repeat in my head. "Kidnap" was repeated several times, but it was when I heard the word "Dad" that I awoke again and understood, at least to some extent, what my situation was.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Who are you?"

He leaned his head to the side, in an inquisitive manner when I finally spoke up. I waited for him to respond but he uttered no sound.

"Who are you?" I tried to sound strong, but my voice betrayed me horribly.

Minutes passed, I am sure of it, and even if that is a long time to be silent, it felt more like days. Even though it was hard to concentrate under his amazing gaze, I suddenly saw my fathers face in my mind. I had to protect him! I had to know if he was alright! And as quickly as I entered that strange state the stranger forced upon me, I just as quickly broke free from it.

With no more fear restricting my voice I threw every question I had at him. "Where am I? Who are you? What do you want with me? Where is my father? What have you done with him? Is he alright? Did you harm him? Is he at my home? What have you done with him? What have you done with him!?"

I somehow said all of those questions in one breath, and as my confidence grew with each one, so did my voice. By the end of my rant I was screaming with a passion as I asked him about my

father. I ran out of air and breathed heavily as I looked at a still unmoving stranger.

Why didn't he say something? I could not understand why he was acting so nonchalant about all of this. The only way he could not utter a word, or even move, was either because he could not speak, or...he could be crazy.

I looked down at my lap in a sharp head movement. For the first time the word death circled around me. He may want to kill me. It seemed unfortunately like a very good possibility; he kidnaped me, and he is wearing a mask! Obviously something was terribly amiss with this man.

There are no words to explain how you feel when you realize that you may soon be murdered, and even tortured. It's simple to merely say those words out loud, but no one can really say the right words to express the gripping fear that clings unmercifully to your soul. I, very soon, may cease to be. My god, that thought terrified me in such a way that I actually felt my heart clench in horror.

If it were any other voice, beside's his, I most probably would not have heard him above all of my conflicting thoughts. But as I would soon come to know, his voice could grab my attention no matter what was happening in my mind.

His voice contained a deep, yet light sound. The best way I could ever think to describe it would be like pressing the most purest form of silk against your cheek. That is the kind of wonderful effect his voice had, it was simply that beautiful.

"I have to admit," he uttered. "That I am not entirely sure where to begin."

I could not look at him. I instead stared into my lap and listened to his voice. I was frightened of what he might say, but I was also silently begging for him to continue speaking, just so I could hear him speak. He paused for quite sometime, but that was fine with me. As he was battling within himself for the right words to say, I was also in a confusing conflict in my mind. I could not fathom in any respect why I actually wanted to hear him speak. I had to hate this man, completely in every way, but for some reason when he spoke, those thoughts vanished. Dear god...what was going on?

"There are so many things I want to say." His voice sounded weak, like he couldn't control what was coming out of his mouth. "So many feelings, I want to convey in you."

He once again, stayed silent for a very long amount of time. I was so afraid of what he might say, that my palms became clammy, and my cheeks grew hot. After a few moments of him not speaking I nervously began to rub my hands together, but from all the perspiration they slid sloppily amongst one another. But what he said next made all of my nervous feelings halt.

"In short words," I stopped moving my hands, and listened with full attention. "You are my inspiration."

My head slowly turned to look at him. His eyes looked straight into my own, and in a way, into my soul. With the air suddenly still, I found that I could not breath, and I did not blink. Like mirroring my own feelings, he also did not blink.

Inspiration? Inspiration for what? Murder? Rape? Kidnap? This was the defying moment, what ever he said next would determine my future. Whether there would even be a future for me. Or for my father.

"My reason for living," he whispered. He said this as if he was not speaking to me. His voice made it seem like he just uttered one of the many jumbled thoughts in his head. If I was not mistaken, he said those words like he was in a trance while his eyes were locked with mine.

I, however, still had no clue as to what he wanted with me. What did that mean? I was his reason for living? I suddenly looked around the room, because I could not continue to gaze into those hypnotic eyes. My head shifted all around the room, and even if I was looking everywhere, I really wasn't seeing anything. My mind was a blank. I was just in such a state of fear, that I could not form a single thought.

"My god..." he suddenly croaked. His voice sounded like it was breaking; like it was weak. It surprised me so much that I, as if driven by some unknown gravity, met his staring orbs. They shown with a shimmer, as if they were watery. He was just as emotional as I was. What did that mean? Was he also just as scared as I?

"I love you so." He looked at me with a pleading gaze, almost questioning.

But for the first time, the table were turned. He was the one looking for answers, and I was the one who remained silent.