Woo an update! Ha, I know I put the first chapter up of this and seemed to abandon it, but I haven't. I've just had HORRIBLE writer's block lately (my Hetalia fic is in danger as I have no idea what to do with it) but finally managed to write this pretty short chapter in about ten minutes. It's not meant to be rushed, so sorry if it is, I got an idea and just went with it. So here you go!

Chapter 2

Dad never told me where it came from, but I had this music box that sat on my nightstand that always managed to cheer me up whenever I got upset. I'd crank it and a little ballerina would come up and start twirling as the music played. I had it since I was little and just knew that it never failed to lift my spirits.

When I was younger I must have dropped it or something because the ballerina was missing an arm. I didn't mind though. It made her look different, like me and Dad with our stitches and his screw. Truth be told I hadn't seen too many other people, but I knew they didn't all have bolts through their heads and stitches against their skin.

So I guess my little ballerina made me feel a little better, reminding me I wasn't the only one who looked different.

As I cranked the music box, there was a knock at my door, to which I absently responded whilst opening the box to allow the song to play and the ballerina to twirl.

Dad gave a glance to the box before coming over to sit by me, offering me the glass of water and pills.

"Feeling well?" he asked.

I simply nodded as I was in the middle of swallowing a pill and couldn't speak. He smiled at me and took the glass back once I finished drinking all the water.

"Anything I can do for you?" he asked, always making sure I was in the best condition I could be.

"Tell me about Mom."

I really wasn't sure what had caused those words to spew from my mouth. Possibly it was my sudden desire to go outside and learn new things. And the first thing I wanted to know was what had happened to my mother.

Dad's eyes narrowed at my request, his head turning to look away from me. He stood up, the bed creaking as he did. I watched as his hand when up to twist the screw in his head, it's clicking noise echoing through the room.

"I've told you everything you need to know," he said flatly.

"But I want to know more!" I cried, "She's my mother! You told me that when I was older you'd tell me more about her!"

"I've told you enough."

I could tell his temper was starting to flare but I couldn't help it. I was tired of not knowing, I was tired of being locked away. I needed to know.

"Why won't you tell me?" I yelled at him, "What are you so afraid of?"

At that, he whipped around, his lab coat flying as he looked at me, those green orbs filled with rage.

"I'm not losing you like I lost her!" he screamed.

I shrunk away from him, my lips clenching shut and my eyes wide with fear. Dad never yelled at me like that. I'd heard him yell from down the hall when he was angry but never had he screamed directly in my face.

He was panting now, his face still twisted in that angry look. It took a moment for him to relax, his expression turning sad as his eyes drooped and his hand came up to rub his face. I didn't dare say a word.

"Shilo…" he sighed, removing his hand so he could look at me.

His eyes were tired and almost apologetic as he tried to find a smile to give me.

"Your mother and you… I don't love anything more. Losing her… You need to understand that I only have you. And if I lost you… I don't know if I could live with myself."

For a moment I felt bad for being so hard on him. I knew that talking about Mom was a touchy subject and me yelling at him wasn't going to change that.

"I don't tell you much about her because it's hard for me, Shilo," he continued, "She was my everything before you came along. With her gone…"

I reached up and placed my hand on his shoulder, nodding at him sympathetically.

"I understand, Dad," I murmured.

He forced a weak smile and leaned in to wrap his arms around me, giving me a gentle hug.

"Thank you," he breathed, "You're such a good girl. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Once he got up and left, I stood up as well, going over to the window and opening it, looking through the bars that barricaded me inside.

Despite talking to my father about her, I still knew nothing about my mother and I wouldn't rest until I did. I was still a prisoner and I would do what needed to be done in order to change that, no matter how it affected my father.

Ah rebellious teenagers. So fun. I know this was short, but the future chapters will be longer, it's just going to take time to get there. And first off, "Aw, poor Stein is so sad" makes me feel like a horrible person. Stein is my favorite character and I hate doing all this crap to him D: Still, a story must have plot and plot must have conflict. So that's all for now, leave me a review telling me what you think if you want. Until next time!