Tony picked up the phone, his body almost trembling with nerves. His finger hovering over the one, Ziva's speed dial number. Sweat started to consume his forehead, until he finally gave his awaiting limb what it wanted and pressed down.

One ring, nothing.

Two rings, nothing.

Three rings, nothing.

Four rings, nothing.

"You have reached Ziva David. " The phone stated, Ziva's voice ringing in Anthony's ear. "If you would like you can leave a message and I will try to get bac-."

Unable to take it, Tony flung his phone against his wall, anger boiling inside. He brought his head to his hands and sighed, rubbing his red eyes.

"This is not working!"

Taking a deep breath, calming himself down, Tony stood and walked to his now dented wall and looked down. His beaten up phone was now in two pieces.

"Crap."

Closing his eyes, he shook his head and forgetting a phone, went into his kitchen. Grabbing a bowl angrily, he looked over to the clock.

12:47

Thinking he could get away with eating a bowl of cereal after noon, he grabbed a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, milk, and a spoon. Walking to his table, he practically threw the containers on the wood. Flopping down, he added his milk and cereal and placed his spoon in, scooping up the tan circles, and slowly raised them to his mouth. A sudden black object that caught his eye stopped him in mid bite. Placing the spoon down he stood up once again and grabbed the book that sat tilted in front of him.

My little piece of Ziva. He thought.

Strutting over to his couch he dropped himself down and opened to his stopping place…

Dear Diary

Day 45

The bruises sting my sides. The blood covers my muddy body. My blood. He came waltzing in here today, like nothing was wrong. I still have no clue who he is. His words still haunt me though.

"Yo bitch."

I twisted around, but all I met was fist. Cold hard fist. First to the face, then stomach, then back. I screamed in agony, though I know I should have not. He liked it. He took pleasure in it. He laughed as I felt his feet dig into my thigh. This time I bite my tongue, yeah whimper must have escaped, for he menacingly laughed once more. I tried to fight back, but my lack of food caused me to poorly throw a punch out from my laying position. He brought is boot down, hard, on my weak limb.

"That's it?" he had chuckled.

I used my other hand to grab his leg, and pulled, but to a no effect came. Only a kick to the face could release my grip, and that he did. I rolled over, bracing for more, yet nothing came. I heard a cold whisper come from the man. Icy cold.

"There is more where that came from." Footsteps followed. Then silence. Now I sit here, pain bleeding out my heart. And you know what? The only thing I want now… is Tony.

As the black book was quickly closed and stuffed it into his coat pocket, Tony stood up.

"That's it."

He walked down the hall, slipped on a pair of shoes, then sprinted out the door.

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