Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere!

Author's Note: Seeing as though I love anything written, I absolutely adored all the comments I received. I honestly wasn't expecting that big of a response but I am not complaining, not at all! So I like this update and I hope that you all like it too!


Chapter 1

The tiny blonde lay in her stiff bed, twisting and turning violently, haunted by dreams of his looming face and that small room where she had been locked up and tortured for many weeks. Lying there in the white hospital bed, in the white hospital room, and in that revealing white hospital gown, Spencer looked and felt small, weak, and helpless. Her unhealed wounds stung with bad memories that would follow her around until the day she died.

If you looked very closely at the girl's facial features you wouldn't see any weakness or flaw, but if you zoomed out and observed her body you would see thousands of flaws, criss-crossing her skin, in the form of scars, scars that her perverted captor put there. The blonde moved once again in her bed, switching the side she had been resting on.

Spencer had not slept well in months and didn't plan to sleep very well for years to come, if ever. The blonde, who was wrapped up in her terrible nightmare, experienced a particularly sharp pain in her side and her blue eyes shot wide open. Only to scream as she came face to face with two large beautiful brown eyes.

The owner of said gorgeous eyes quickly covered her mouth with their soft hand, bringing a finger up to her own mouth, making shushing noises to quiet down the scared blonde.

"Hey shut your trap would ya! Do you want us to get into trouble?" the brunette hissed her hand still covering the blonde's mouth. The tiny girl underneath the brunette shook her head vehemently, "okay then…now can I remove my hand from your mouth or what?"

The blonde didn't answer, instead she stuck out her pink tongue and licked the brunette's hand up and down, very slowly, and very wetly. This time it was the brunette's turn to scream as she fell back off of the bed and onto the floor staring at her hand in disgust and complete horror.

"Eww!" she exclaimed.

"Well," Spencer chuckled, "now who is being loud huh?"

"What the hell was that for?" the petite brunette spluttered, wiping her hand furiously against her hospital gown.

"What the hell are you doing here in my room?" the blonde replied her face stern and her voice expressionless.

"Toche," the brunette said, sounding very impressed with the blonde's response and her own use of a complicated word.

"Toche?"

"Yeah…," the brunette said softly, placing her hand under her chin, "I think it means, nice one, my dad said it once after I tripped him in the hallway," the girl giggled at the memory.

Spencer began to giggle as well, but quite harder than the brunette. She was bent over in her bed.

"What are you laughing at?" the brunette inquired, lifting herself up off the floor and squinting her eyes incredulously.

The blonde began to laugh even harder trying in vain to stifle her chuckle with her hand, "I think…I think you mean…touché," she managed to choke out through her laughter. The brunette's nose scrunched up and she muttered a small, "whatever…," before hopping into Spencer's bed, making herself comfortable next to this tiny blonde.

"So what is your name, Barbie?"

"Barbie?" the blonde asked just a little offended. She could not deny the fact that she had liked them sometime in her life but now she found them repulsive.

"Yeah that's what you look like, so that's what imam call ya…," the brunette said examining her finger nails.

"How do I look like a Barbie?" Spencer asked. If she hadn't been laying down she would have placed her hands on her hips.

"Well," the brunette said distractedly counting her fingers, "you have blonde hair and your body is perfect, like a Barbie's." The younger girl didn't know how to respond to that so she just said weakly:

"Spencer…"

"Huh?" the brunette asked confused.

"My name is Spencer."

"Oh, nice name. Mine is Davies," she sucked in her cheeks and lowered her voice, "Ashley Davies." Spencer couldn't help but laugh.

"How old are you?" was the next question.

"What is this, like twenty questions or something?" the blue eyed girl inquired, giving the brunette a glare. Ashley held her hands up in defense.

"I just want to know a little bit about you, geez…" the brunette said with a little bit of a scoff.

"I guess that is okay then…I'm ten."

The brunette began to laugh, "HA!" she declared victoriously, shooting her hand up in triumph.

"What?" the blonde asked pouting a little.

"I'm eleven, and older than you!"

"Yeah, by like, a year…"

"A year is a lot of time!"

"No it is not!" the blonde responded slapping the brunette frivolously on the arm in protest.

"Yes it is," the brunette said, "and ouch," she added as a last thought massaging her slapped arm.

"Fine!" the blonde held up her hands in defeat, "you win."

"Hmph," the brunette said crossing her arms across her chest, "that is what I thought." The blonde just sighed. There was a bit of an awkward silence before Ashley began to speak again.

"So what are you in here for?"

"You make it sound like it's prison or something," Spencer said quietly her eyes concentrating once again on the ugly grey curtains.

"Uh, Spence, it kind of is."

The blonde could not argue with that instead she muttered a small, "accident. Freak accident, you?" there she was again lying.

"Oh, me? I'm dying," the brunette said casually, now picking at a defiant hang nail on her thumb. Spencer's eyes grew in astonishment at how calm the brunette seemed to be about this.

"Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yep cancer…," Ashley said in a dull voice now lifting her hand to the light on Spencer's bedside table, making sure she had finally rid herself of that very annoying hang nail.

"I…I'm sorry," Spencer stuttered, feeling a little bit guilty at making her own situation such a big deal when this girl was facing death.

"Don't be, it really isn't your fault…" the brunette replied, her voice quivering just a bit even though she tried to cover it up, Spencer heard it and felt her heart go out to Ashley.

"That's the difference…"

"What?" Ashley asked confused, looking up for the first time from her hand. Blue met brown and an instant friendship seemed to be made.

"That is the difference between the people in hospitals and the people is prisons, it usually isn't the people in the hospital's fault…"


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