IMPORTANT A/N: I will be changing this story's title to: Point of Emaciation.

I don't want there to be any confusion, so this title will be changed when I post Chapter Nine, instead of immediately.


CHAPTER EIGHT

September 5th, 2009

The police arrived to the Rose-Kennedy residence, expecting a typical noise complaint from stingy neighbours. From outside, they heard nothing and decided to drive away when Officer Sullivan spotted someone shouting and waving their arms beside the house.

He slipped out of the car and met the concerned neighbour midway. "What's the problem, ma'am?"

"Thank goodness, you're here!" she exclaimed. "I heard screaming! I thought it was just kids being kids, you know? B-but… I don't think it's…" She started to nervously wring her hands. "Please, you have to check inside! Brad is always a little… you know… I worry for the mother and child."

Sullivan nodded before signalling his partner. They marched to the doorsteps and knocked.

There was no reply.

"Ma'am? Sir?" Sullivan walked around the perimeter. The kitchen lights were peeking through the closed blinds, but he couldn't see anything. He radioed the station. Drastic measure had to be taken if there was heavy suspicion that someone was injured.

Once he received the 10-4, he rammed his shoulder against the door.

Even without the neighbour, he knew this family's history. Numerous domestic violence calls were made here – not from the mother, but by other concerned friends and passersby. He had been the one to talk to the residence. Each time, he had to be the one to warn them, but nothing was ever done. If anything had happened to the mother and child, he would never be able to forgive himself. These were the cases that he hated the most. It was evident that something had to be done, but nothing ever was. The justice system was heavily flawed.

He stumbled into the house after the fourth hit. The entire house was quiet and only one room seemed to be illuminated. He slowly walked in, gun in hand and pointed downward. He hoped that he wouldn't have to use it, but circumstances could change everything.

What he saw, however, was something that he would never forget. Two forms were unconscious at the foot of the stairs. The child was covered in blood from head to toe, leaving him to assume the worst. He rushed over to them, but stopped as he saw what was on the other side of the white marble island.

A larger body was splayed in a puddle of blood. His eyes were still open, staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. There were numerous stab wounds all over his body, but the most gruesome wound was concentrated to the left of the chest where it looked as if there was a fist-sized hole. The torn flesh was still stuck to the serrated steak knife by the body.

Sullivan had to tear his eyes away from the sight and looked at the other two. They looked so peaceful despite what had happened. His instinct was telling him what much have occurred, but his brain couldn't even compute the possibility. A child?

"Yes, we found one dead and two unconscious," his partner, Harris, spoke to the radio. Harris crouched down to check the child, but as soon as he touched her, she started to flail around. "Sh… Sh… It's alright. We're not here to hurt you."

The girl looked at him with wide-grey orbs.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? Did you see who did this? What happened here?"

She tilted her head. "I'm okay," she replied.

"Who's look is this? Are you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head.

"I need you to tell me what happened.

And she did, every last detail. Her voice was soft and innocent, but there was a wild look in her eyes. Neither officers could believe what they were hearing.

Since she was a minor, it would be difficult to determine her punishment, especially given the circumstances of an abusive father. The girl, however, showed no remorse for what she had done. IN fact, she didn't even seem to know that it was wrong.

The crown had hired both a lawyer and a local therapist for her. Neither managed to get anything different that the police hadn't already heart. A burglar hadn't come. She wasn't covering for her mother.

The mother, she hadn't been much help either. Mary Rose was very close-lipped. She looked devastated that her husband was dead and her daughter was being charged for murder, but most of the time, it looked as if she wasn't even present. The poor woman was completely withdrawn. They feared for her safety and sent her to the same therapist as Clara, hoping that something would come out of it.

"Miss Clara Rose-Kennedy, can you please recount the emotions that drove you to do what you've done?"

"What I've done?" She hated how they skirted around the topic as if they were trying to protect her from something. "I killed him. He just made me so angry. He had to die because of everything that he'd done to me and my mum. You never had to hear her cry every night. It hurts."

Every session was the same. It was mindless chatter one day after another. The worst part was not being able to see her mother. She had done everything so that they could live happily together. It wasn't right for these people to keep them apart. It was not right!

Day after day, however, she learned to say what they wanted to hear. They promised that she would get to see her mother when she's better.

With this mindset, she managed to charm the judge and juries in the span of three months. They allowed the lawyer to take her home for a brief visit.

Her eyes glowed with excitement. She was practically bouncing in the car seat.

"Do you miss her?" It was small talk, something to fill the silence. Nathan knew how much she looked forward to the visit.

She fervently nodded. "A lot." The large grin on her face made him smile.

He felt terrible for her. From what he gathered, she had been a good kid at school, albeit a little quiet, but everyone could see the bruises on her. No one did anything. No one was interested to care until the incident came on the news. Then, the teachers started to speak up. It was almost laughable. Too little, too late.

"Here we are." Nathan parked in front of a small, rundown house. He had been there when the first house was sold. This was a poor replacement, but debts had to be paid.

Before he could stop her, Clara jumped out of the car and skipped to the door. She knocked and rang the doorbell, humming happily to herself.

Nathan retrieved the key from his pocket and opened the door.

What they found was something that could not be unseen.

"I don't understand…" She had been mumbling to herself ever since she saw her mother's half-decayed body.

The situation was dire. No one knew what to do with her. Nathan was against putting her in the institution, but it was not his call to make. He was forced to watch her enter the hospital, alone and confused.

March 14th, 2010

Clara laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling. This wasn't her room. When was her mum going to pick her up? Nathan promised that they were going to go see her. That liar. She knew lawyers were all money-grabbing crooks.

A knock on the door stole her from her thoughts. The slit opened and a pair of weary broken eyes looked at her. "Clara? May I come in?"

The redhead ignored her. It didn't matter what her reply was.

"Clara, there's someone who wants to meet you."

As expected, the door opened without her approval.

Nurse Julia walked in with a dark-haired man behind her. "Doctor, this is Clara." She gestured to the form on the bed, before quietly adding, "Please, be careful."

Dr. Alan Hill waved her off before sitting on the bed, by Clara's feet. "Clara Rose?"

The girl showed no signs of acknowledgement.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He saw the way her eyes shifted to him before stubbornly looking away. "If you'd allow me to, I can take you away from here to Canada. It's a little colder there, but I believe a change in scenery would be beneficial." When she continued to brood in silence, he sighed. "What is keeping you here, Clara?"

"Mum's going to come for me. I can't leave." She curled up tighter. "She won't know where to find me…"

Her reply broke his heart. It wasn't the first time that he's seen severe trauma wipe out certain memories, but for it to happen to her in such a case was difficult to bear. "Do you remember what happened when you went home?"

She frowned. "I never got there 'cause the bloody lawyer is a bloody liar. He still hasn't taken me to see mum, yet."

"When was the last time you were home? Can you walk me through it?"

Clara didn't understand what this doctor could do that the other could not. There was nothing to fix because she wasn't broken.

"Clara, work with me – just this once. Walk me through that day."

She hugged, but gathered that he wasn't going to leave if she didn't at least give him something. "I just came back from school. It was really sunny. I was hot and thirty. I got home, entered the house, got a glass of water, and… and…" She trailed off as a different scene played in her head. It wasn't hot that day… What had she been doing? Was Nathan there? She didn't know him before Brad was gone, so why was he there?

She watched herself wander the house, going through every room. What was she looking for? "Mum…?" Her mum was waiting for her to come home. They were going to have a fantastic feast, but she… she…

It was red…?

Her mother. She was sleeping in the bathtub. Didn't she know that that was dangerous? Did she leave old food in there? Why did it stink so much? "Mum…"

Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.

"Why didn't she wake up?" She tugged at her hair. "I came back home… I came back to be with her…"

"Baby, why did you leave me?" Her eyes flitted over to the corner of the room. "It was so lonely in the house…" Her mother looked so sad.

"I can back for you, mum," Clara told her. "It wasn't my fault. I came back!"

"You were too late!" Mary wailed. "My Clara would never do that to me."

"No…"

"You're not my Clara!"

"I'm sorry…" she sobbed. "I'm sorry…"

"You let me DIE!"

Dr. Hill could see that he had lost her. It was not his intention to subject her to the horrors again, but he needed to know how far she was gone.

The nurse ran in to usher him out with an apologetic look on her face. He reassured her and told her that he'd be returning in four day's time. True to his words, he came back.

Clara seemed to be responding better to him. Her replies were lucid. She remembered everything that happened and even though her eyes always look glassy, he was relieved to know that she remained calm.

After several more visits, he asked her the question. "Clara, do you want to get better?"

She looked down. "I don't know. Sometimes, I'm happy to stay in here. This place is like a different world. I don't have to face…" She shook her head. "But I know I can't stay like this forever. I'd rather be dead than accept that this will always be my life, now. These four walls… The meds…"

He knew, then, that she wasn't the lost cause these reports made her out to be. She just needed someone to take their time with her and with so many patients at the institution, she would never get the attention that she needed.

Within the next month, he put in as much effort as he could to transfer Clara over to him. It was an arduous task that involved stacks of paperwork and more time than he could spare away from his other clients. Since Nathan had been Clara's lawyer, he had hired him to deal with the rest of the process and eventually, everything was done.

She was flown over and resided with his sister. He was confident that if anyone could truly help her, it'd be Sarah. His sister had such a wonderful recovery. She had remarried and looked happier than he had ever seen her.

The only thing that worried him was whether Clara's murderous tendency was reserved only for her father or whether he had just put his family in danger.

May 23rd, 2010

"How have you been liking Canada?"

"It's cold." She had on a puffy, purple jacket. Black mittens enveloped her hands and a purple beanie covered her head. She refused to take any of them off.

"And school?"

She shrugged. It wasn't that different than the one in London, in terms of social circles. She hadn't been able to make any friends. Somehow, everyone had heard who she was and how she was seeing Dr. Hill. Even the teachers seemed wary of her. "School is school."

What she never expected was for the sessions to slowly help her ease back into society. Dr. Hill was a patient man. He met with her as often as he could and he even took the time after work to visit her.

Sarah became more of a close friend than a parent figure and even though Clara spent limited time with the husband, John, she could see how happy he made his wife. It was such a different dynamic to what she was used to and it was something she could never understand. She did learn, however, about Sarah's history. The grey-haired woman had been through it all and came back stronger. Clara wanted that.

She was going to make something of herself, or at least have a life of her own away from prying eyes and prodding hands. That meant she needed a job.

During the next summer, she went job hunting and was shot down every single time. Her history seemed to be known to everyone in Alberta, Canada. When year ten came, she was forced to let another nine months go by. Her mood was easily pinpointed by Dr. Hill who began another round of questions.

When she told him of her plans, he actually thought it was a good idea. In fact, he offered her a part time job at his office. It was small, but at least she was finally getting her own income. As she got the hang of it, he gave her more hours. It became a wonderful alternative to sulking in the house with nothing to do.

Each year after past like a routine, until a particular new patient caught her eye. He was quietly sitting in the chair like many others, but there was something in his eyes that intrigued her.

Josh Washington.

He was a year older than her, but there seemed to be some kind of connection between them. It was like a cliché moment where it felt as if you just instantly knew someone. She couldn't figure out why.

She watched him moodily go in and wondered the entire time why he was here. What problems did he have? She wasn't sure how long she pondered, but suddenly, Josh flew out with a look of rage and annoyance. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to know what was wrong, but she didn't know how to approach him.

Despite his obvious dislike of the sessions and Dr. Hill, he kept coming back. She was glad. She loved seeing him, but one day, he looked completely lost. That was the day she truly realised who he was.

Josh Washington – the brother of recently deceased Hannah and Beth Washington; the son of Bob and Melinda Washington. He was the spawn of the people who ruined her family. The hatred that immediately burned in her was so strong that she wanted to push him out the window, but she didn't.

She had learned self-control.

After Josh left, she went to see Dr. Hill.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

There was no way that he hadn't known who Josh was to her and the good doctor didn't lie. He tried to reason with her like a logical person. It was a bad idea to kill Josh.

No, she told him that she wasn't going to do that.

During their times together in the lobby, she managed to gain Josh's trust. She was going to attend his silly winter party and break him. She was going to break him the way his family had broken her. What he had experienced before would be nothing like what she had planned for him.

Seeing the look on her face, Dr. Hill strongly advised her not to go, but she already knew the game. Give them what they wanted to hear and then ease them into changing their minds. All she had to do was feign innocence and pretend that she wanted to spend the winter actually getting to know other people. And indeed, that was what she was going to do.

But she was going to kill him.


AUTHOR'S NOTE

I lied in the last chapter, but this is probably going to be the last big chunk of the past. No promises for smaller ones, though. I don't know how much you guys actually like reading that, but I didn't want there to be any loopholes or confusion. I hope it didn't bore you to death. If there's anything unclear, ask and I'll try to explain it in future chapters.

After this, the story should pick up, again.

This includes the romance (hopefully; should be?). This story just seems to have its own idea and I'm really as surprised as you are when Clara turned out to be a bloody psychopath. That was not part of the original outline. I really don't know what happened there.

As mentioned in the beginning of the chapter, I will be changing this story's name. I'm terrible with titles, character names, and summaries and when I first uploaded the Prologue, I didn't have any in mind. I just wanted to be able to post the story, so I chose something cliché that would hopefully grow on me, but it didn't.

A friend suggested the title, "Point of Emaciation" and one of you also agreed on it, so that's what I've settled on.

Thank you Solleo93 for your title suggestion, you're the only one to give me something new and I actually slept on it. It's actually a really good title, but I counted my friend as one vote and ended up with two for Point of Emaciation.

I always seem to have far too much to say here... I really do try to keep it short, but it hasn't worked, thus far...

I'd like to thank all you reviewers: Solleo93, Dusk-deerfluff, Connie Hooper, and Guest (MikoDarcia). I know this chapter isn't as good, but I'd love to see more reviews coming from everyone.

Thank you also to everyone who has favourited and followed this story.

Echo