Chapter title: And being caught in between, all you wish for and all you need

Summary: Rachel tries to deal with some of her feelings

She sits on her bed, trying to push down the anger she felt inside the church. She never knew she could feel so much anger at once for so many different things.

"You're not real."

Her cry is full of hatred and she feels all of those things she had been to church for weighing heavily on her chest. Molten tears threaten to drown her.

I see her sat on that worn out bench. I never thought anyone could seem so...broken. I can hear her sobs and desperate pleads. They surround me and it's as though she's sat right here next to me. That's how I know the truth.

"You're not real."

She's lost in her thoughts. Too focused on the girl that wasn't there to notice the figure leaning against the doorframe.

"Who's not real?"

"Jesus Christ!"

Even when she squeals she manages to hit notes that ordinarily only a trained soprano should be able to reach.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you've got something on your mind."

"Oh."

I look at him and see the concern etched into his skin, the love radiating from his eyes. I can't help but wonder if anyone has ever looked at her this way. Probably not...

"So, who's not real?"

She bites her lip nervously, forces back the tears burning her vision, wondering how much she could reveal to her father without betraying the other girl or where she had spent her evening.

"Daddy...do you believe in God?"

"I do."

Her lip begins to sting from the pressure she has been unknowingly increasing as she worries her lip.

"Why?"

He looked at her slightly baffled.

"I have you, how could I not believe?"

He gently tucks the fallen strands of raven behind her ear, stroking her hair reassuringly like only a father could.

"Why sweetheart?"

I see her on that bench I know I will always think of as hers. I see the way her small frame convulses and shudders every time she desperately gasps for air. I see the way the sun refracts off of her golden head and converts into streams of silver.

"I guess I'm just trying to understand."

He nods in understanding.

"Would this be one of those things you need to work on a little bit before we discuss it?"

She smiles at him weakly and nods her head.

"Thank you Daddy."

I feel his lips on my forehead and know that I will always be safe and loved for as long as my fathers are around. I wonder if everyone gets this feeling from their parents but I know they don't. I'm sure a lot of people do; after all, my fathers are not the only loving parents out there. It's just that I know that she doesn't get this feeling and that breaks my heart.

"Don't be up too much longer ok? It's getting late."

"I won't. Night Daddy."

I wonder who says goodnight to her now, if anyone offers her love and comfort. I'd like to think that someone is at least warm towards her but I know that no one is there to offer her that warmth. After watching her, I know that she is utterly alone in this, no matter how many people claim that they are there for her. I want to ask God to look after her, to offer her that warmth but I don't know what use, if any, it would do...is He even there?