In the last chapter, Leena was subjected to more Q and A from Doctor Browning but things came to a head when Leena lost her wrist ribbon, causing the doctor to question whether Esther was being abused by her adoptive parents. After unleashing her temper in the women's bathroom and on Syrah, she soon returns home, only to fall asleep and sink into a horrible nightmare...

Author's Note – Another round of applause for NoComparison for her continual and enthusiastic input with this series :) She is doing a great deal of refining and expanding on this work and I appreciate her editing of this chapter. If you don't read "Devil With The Angel's Eyes", Esther will find you T_T! Now, we continue on...

This dream was becoming more and more real as I sank further into a deeper sleep. I could feel the lid of the casket shut tightly, almost rattling my bones. I was trapped! My field of vision abruptly vanished as I found myself in the deepest, inkiest darkness one could possibly imagine, as if in the depths of a great sea. The air instantly grew thick and heavy as the will to survive kicked in. A dank, musty odor invaded my nostrils, pervading them like a spreading cancer. I knew that if I didn't make it out of that hearse that my existence would soon come to an end. I thrashed, kicked and screamed. I called out for John and my sister. For ANYONE who could help me. But I was alone in this dark box. There was no caring ear to heed my desperate pleas. Where were they taking me? Could somebody PLEASE tell me before it's too late!

It wasn't long before each gasp of breath took an increasing amount of effort as the air in the casket quickly began to grow thinner. I gasped more desperately for each precious breath. My lungs burned from exhaustion as I struggled for every last bit of air as the supply rapidly diminished. I began to violently hyperventilate as I slammed my hands against the coffin lid until they were raw, feeling the painful blisters as they began to form on my skin.

I placed a hand upon my chest, feeling the empty cavity where my heart had once been. I shuddered in disgust as my tiny fingers felt bone, muscle and sinew. Bile rose in my throat and I could feel it dribbling down my chin. I retched and gagged, screaming at the top of my lungs, my throat stinging in pain.

I pounded, and pounded and pounded some more. Each burst draining me of more of my precious energy. I began to claw at the wooden surface of the casket lid like a trapped animal, the splinters digging their way deep underneath my broken fingernails. The darkness had enveloped me like a deadly cloud. "LET ME OUT! DON'T KILL ME! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU SAY, JUST PLEASE SPARE MY LIFE!" I cried in vain despondence. "I'M A HUMAN BEING! I'M A LADY! PLEASE, JUST TELL ME WHY? I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

My life, my brief existence, it all seemed to polarize into a singularity. One brief moment of every event I had ever experienced seemed to flash before my eyes in some surreal, almost cliché horror show. My childhood in Estonia, my incarceration at Saarne, my time with the Sullivans. Syrah. John. Max. Their faces swam in my mind, all the people for whom I reserved the deepest depths of my love for. But now, none of them could save me. None of them could come to my aid, despite how much I wished it could be so. Now here I was in the very grip of annihilation. Any hope I had of escape was quickly withering away like an Autumn leaf as I listened to my captors laughing fiendishly from within the hearse, drinking in my desperation as if it were a drug.

The adrenaline rush had sent me into a full and wild panic. This was a full fledged fight for my survival. But I knew that my demise was just minutes away. I could feel myself edging closer to the black, abysmal chasm of death itself. Try as I might to escape the inevitable, but I had to face the horrible truth that there was no turning back this time. I began to violently throw my body around inside the death box, my sobs fertilizing the rich field of death that was being prepared for me. Eternal darkness was fast encroaching. Who could annul this panic? Who could annul this masquerade of death's dance, sickle ready for the slaughter? I felt a cold hand on my shoulder...and suddenly.

A frightened gasp escaped my lips as I shot up in my bed like a bottle rocket.. My sheets were soaked in sweat, my brow was moist as if I had been caught in a rainstorm, my clothing soaked. I was finally awakened from the hell that I had found myself in. I cast a nervous glance to my right, hands raised in defence, poised, ready to fight, to scream. I was half expecting to see Doctor Varava glaring at me from over my bed, a real life monster who would be ready to finish me off. But no. Such a gentle and familiar face. It was only my sister, her hand still planted on my shoulder, that had cast me back into reality. My hand rested over my throbbing heart "Thank God, it's only you!" I said with overwhelming relief.

"Well, what were you expecting?" she asked curiously, taking my hand in hers. "I didn't mean to wake you or anything. Here, have some beef soup that I made. You've been eating way too little lately." She extended the bowl to me but all I could do was offer a dead stare. Concerned, my sister put it down on the end table next to the bed. "Don't slouch, Leena. Sit up straight and talk to me. What's wrong? I know today was rough on us, do you want to talk about it? I'm sure there's plenty more that you want to get off your mind. Share what you're feeling with me."

I held my hand up to my chest. I was unable to stop it as it shook uncontrollably. I knew I could talk to Syrah about what had just happened without any trepidation. "I had the most terrible dream. They...Sister Abigail and Doctor Varava, they came to get me."

Syrah sat closely at my side as she caressed my hair. "They came, Syrah. There was nothing either of us could do about it. They forced me out of the house and I was dragged into some coffin that they had waiting for me. I was in a hearse or something, I'm not sure. You can't begin to imagine how hard I fought... I-I.. am I really safe?" I closed my eyes as I struggled to control my breathing. I still wasn't fully awake.

"For as long as I live I'll never be able to forget this. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. Those monsters, those damn devils. They slammed that casket shut and I was trapped. I couldn't breath. I couldn't get out of that box. It was realistic, Syrah. So vivid and lifelike. I could even feel the wood as I tried clawing my way out of there. They tore my heart out. They literally tore my heart out. That.. damn Doctor Varava.. He ripped it out of my chest and l-laughed at me."

"Trapped," I repeated. "That's the story of my fucking life, isn't it?" I began crying quietly, unable to shake the fresh images from my psyche. I felt so vulnerable and traumatized at that moment. "Oh my God, I must be losing my mind!" I collapsed my head onto her shoulder, begging for some compassion.

Of course, my sister was quick to intervene. She wrapped her arms around me, rocking us both back and forth, in much the same way a parent would to a scared little child, which was exactly what I felt like in that moment. Vulnerable and helpless. ''Honey, listen to me, it was just a bad dream, okay? We're safe now, alright? You're just under too much stress. So am I, you don't think I don't have ten thousand things on my mind? Nobody is going to come after you. We fooled that doctor today, honey. We did what we had to do to survive it. Wasn't I right with what I said before we left this morning? Yeah, it wasn't smooth sailing, I know that, but we're still one step ahead of everybody else and that's how we need to try and keep it. A silly little dream can do you no harm."

In tears, I tore the ribbons off of my wrists, tossing them angrily onto the sheets. I extended my mangled, hideous wrists towards my sister. "What about these, huh? Was she fooled when she seen these scars? Look how deep they are. Look how UGLY they are? Go on, what do you think? You heard Kate screaming in her own self defense. The doctor thinks this was some sort of ABUSE!" I punched the headboard of my bed, snarling in frustration, leaving a slight dent in the drywall. Syrah cringed at the violent outburst.

"Leena, I've been eavesdropping on John and Kate since we've got home and they haven't mentioned anything about ribbons or scars. It's safe to say that the doctor kept quiet, at least about those. Believe me, if Kate was told anything about these terrible things she would have been on you in a second. Trust me, you would know about it." I struggled in vain to make myself believe this but I had a feeling the truth was something much harder to swallow.

"I'm trying REALLY hard, Syrah. Really hard to believe that's the truth and I mean that. To make some logical sense out of it. They say everything happens for a reason, but I'm still trying to understand exactly what that reason is."

She put a hand on my thigh, the concerned look magnified in her gentle, watery brown eyes. Syrah spoke carefully, taking care to measure every word. "Klam Klam... little sister... Just have faith. I know that's a tall order but you need to have faith sometimes."

I almost wanted to think that my sister was being sarcastic if not foolhardy. Was she honestly serious? Did she hear the words that came out of her own mouth? I arched an eyebrow skeptically, cocking my head to the side as I faced my sister.

"Faith? We're going to need more than faith from now on. Will faith help to bury my sorrows? Will faith help to trample my fears? Is faith going to erase these scars? Will faith.. will faith be the saviour that will keep my dreams from dying?"

I returned my head to Syrah's shoulder, closing my eyes as my chest heaved up and down, listening to myself breath. "I just have a feeling about something too awful to think about. Some terrible mishap is about to fall upon us both and my intuition is rare in failing me. I don't know what it is exactly, but there's something out there lurking for us. How can I eat or sleep or enjoy anything knowing that? I scarcely can snatch a moment's rest in these dark days and for what? Syrah, if only you could feel what I am feeling then I think we could really both see each other eye to eye on these sort of things."

Syrah quickly grabbed my velvet ribbons from off the bed sheets, fastening them hastily around my neck and wrists. "For God's sake Leena, I don't want to see those damn scars. It upsets me, it really does. They remind me of all the hell you've been through. Those six years you spent in that damn straightjacket. You poor woman, the heavy heart you must carry everyday knowing what they've done to you. What they've taken from you. They robbed us of each other for those six years. Six years we can never get back. How you manage to make it by day in and day out simply amazes me."

I watched a lone tear crease down her face and under her chin. She covered her mouth with her hands as she began to weep bitterly. This surprised me, how long had it been since I seen her break down? I embraced her, gently stroking her long black hair, velvet to the touch, giving her the same loving comfort she would always give to me. I wanted to return the favour, for once! Her soul was always so easily moved. Never was there so gentle an angel who wet their cheeks for my sake.

"It's because of you. It's because of John. It's because of Max. That's how I'm getting by.", I told her plainly. She sniffled, drying her reddened eyes. "Thank you.", she said. "Didn't mean to start crying like that."

"Don't worry about such trivialities." I said. "Dry your tears. And don't upset yourself with what happened to me at Saarne. Let us leave the past in the past. Today has held enough trouble. And I speak truthfully when I say that these days are so full of danger, Syrah. I need to prepare myself for whatever may come. We cannot lie about as petty onlookers when vultures come to feast. These vultures with human form and human heart, yet inhuman intent to bring us both to the gates of misery..."

She gave me a peaceful eye.. "Let's not talk like that anymore, Leena. Remember, have faith. It'll carry us through this insanity, I promise. One little step at a time. Something good has to come out of all of this." Her words were doing little to snub my fears.

"Syrah, when wise people see dark clouds they put on their cloaks. I have a lot of thoughts to attend to. Whether you choose to admit to it or not, the clouds are beginning to darken even more so than before. Curse it all and damn it to hell! But that's the story of my life, I'll tell you something, though. Without you, John, and Max. There would be no means in which to endure it."

Syrah firmly took hold of my shoulders, turning my torso to face her. "Sweet of you to say. But what more then can I say to persuade you? Maybe mere words are not enough. You will see in the course of due time that today's episode was little more than a bump in the road. And in that due time you will forget about it altogether, maybe even be light hearted about it."

I frowned at those words as they were filled with little more than an empty hope to me. Just wishful thinking on my sister's part, no matter how good be the nature of her intent.

"I fear the worst and nothing less," I said. "There's nothing trivial about what happened this morning. Forgive me for taking what you say with a grain of salt. Something...something absolutely horrible is about to happen and we have no choice but to allow it to unfold. But, I really can't blame you for what happened today. We both ran aground. So I'll suffer whatever consequences come of it."

Syrah was becoming a little despondent by my rantings. She ran her hands through her hair, pursing her lips, sighing deeply. I could tell that all of this was as taxing on her just as much as it was on me, no matter how hard she may have tried to hide it for my sake.

"Leena, for the last time, you're overreacting. Scarcely a day goes by when you're not paranoid over this thing or that thing. There's no need to be melodramatic about all this. I'm just trying to look out for your well being, is that a crime in your eyes?"

She took a passing glance out of the window, gazing up into the endless, empty sky. "But in any case, I won't allow you to grieve alone. I'm worried sick about the toll this is taking on you. This can't be of any benefit to your health. Haven't I told you that before?" She put a warm hand on my cheek and then my forehead as a mother would to a sick child. "You look so pale and peakish. You're getting dark circles. You...you feel so cold to the touch. It's almost like ice. You're going to send yourself to an early grave."

I chuckled slightly. "Oh? And do you think I lack foresight about what all of this is doing to me?" I tugged at my hair emphatically. "Do you see any gray hairs yet on my head? No? Well I guess you have a point. But you want to know why I worry, Sy Sy? Because I care too much! I care too much for my own future and for my future with this family. For you. For John. For Max. That is the Trinity that I worship!"

I couldn't help but to let my words flow forth like some overly emotional poet. But what really got under my skin and gnarled at me was just the fact that she was trying to brush off today's event as "a bump in the road". It was almost an insult to my intelligence that she would want me to believe this. That "bump" was more like a mountain and one that was growing nonetheless.

"Sometimes I wish I could become a bird and just fly out that window, Syrah. Just fly away to some distant land," I mused in idealism. "Where life could be less dreadful than this. A place to rest. No more pins and needles, you know? A place called..'' my voice became even more sorrowful and forlorn, ''home." Syrah ignored my fantasy as little more than idle babbling..

"Listen, just eat your soup, dear," she said, pushing the bowl towards me. I ignored it, I was in absolutely no mood to eat and I doubted I would be for a long time to come. Syrah cupped my cheek. "You really need to try and eat something. I'm going downstairs to play the piano if you would like to join me in a little bit. If I try to sit around all day I'll go stir crazy. So come down when you're finished, alright? Don't stay in bed for the rest of the day. There's no need for me to lecture you. I know well enough that there's plenty going on in both of our heads. We have full enough plates as it is." She gave me a gentle and loving kiss on the forehead, ever so fair and sweet..

"Yes, Syrah. If it makes you happy." With a smile of contentment, she took her leave, closing the door quietly behind her. I listened to her soft footsteps as they meandered down the hallway. I hated the silence that followed. It was like the calm before the storm to me. The only thing I could hear were my own racing thoughts. I played out what had happened this morning again and again and again. I thought of every scenario that may have happened. Could it have gotten any worse? I sunk back into my melancholy. It was as if I were resigning myself to whatever fate was lying ahead, just out of reach. I could almost feel it bearing down on me, ready to deliver the final blow that would crush my mind, body, and spirit.

'My sister, she just doesn't understand. She just doesn't get it,' I thought hopelessly. A bitter knot began to form in my stomach. Sure, I had her empathy, I had her love, and I had her sympathy and compassion. But why did she have to be so optimistic when something so horrible had to occur? Maybe she was simply trying to block it out and pretend that none of these horrors had ever happened to begin with. Her own little coping mechanism for dealing with those trying events.

What I wouldn't give to do this day all over again. Oh, how different things would be. I sat at the edge of my bed and glanced forward into the mirror. I appeared to be little more than a disheveled pile of human misery who had fallen to their absolute lowest point. I turned away in disgust, horrified and sickened by the wretched creature that I had become.

Seeing my own reflection was the same as looking into the eyes of a demon. Despite how much I loathed myself, I used to be always able to at least stand the sight of Esther in the mirror, but now... now I abhorred to even look at her. The ribbons hanging pathetically in my hair had might as well been made of barbed wire. That already delicate line between Esther Coleman and Leena Klammer was blurring ever thinner. But even in the late hours of the day, my tempest calmed to a tolerable degree, there was little else to do other than to reflect. I could feel my stomach churning, urging me to consume the soup my sister had made.

Despite being in no mood to eat, I lazily took hold of the bowl. I tried my best just to put the smallest spoonful to my mouth but I found myself too troubled to take so much as a sip. But alas, my attention was immediately taken to the doorknob as my door opened again. I had another visitor, none other than Max, that precious little angel. The tiniest seed of cheer began to rise inside of me. Like my sister, she was another ray of sunshine amiss a sea of thick darkness.

"Oh, so few be better to pay me a visit! Max, come sit for awhile by your big sister, won't you?" I signed. She quickly took pride and place next to me, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. She certainly had recovered well from all of the recent trauma and it was by no doubt quite surprising to witness her return to her own brand of unabashed and charming innocence. A small miracle in its own right.

"Syrah told me to cheer you up," the little one informed me with an endless zeal. She took my hand in hers, playing innocently with my fingers. With my other hand, I stroked my daughter's hair, taking utmost delight in the bright, innocent smile she always seemed to reserve solely for her mommy. By mommy, of course, I mean me, and not that wretch, Kate. Did I really even need to say that?

"Oh, how thoughtful of the two of you," I said, my voice becoming more lively. "Aren't you and Syrah so wonderful to me?" I leaned over to give my precious angel a hug, lifting her onto my lap. "And I love you both, so very, very much," I whispered into her hearing aid, my heart swelling and tears pricking my eyes when she signed the words back to me.

Max's expression suddenly went from innocently cheerful to somber and morose, well, as somber and morose as a little one her age could get. She slid off my lap, taking her place by my side. My baby rested her head against my shoulder, blinking innocently up at me. "Syrah said you were sad. Something wrong?" she signed.

I let my shoulders drop as I took a deep exhale. I didn't really want to give her any idea of my merciless condition. "It's just that...today's been really, really hard," I said in a childish manner. "Because mommy made me go to the doctor and I didn't like it one bit. No, Max, it wasn't nice. I don't like doctors.. who does?" Max seemed confused, as if she had no knowledge of the appointment, which was perfectly fine by me. I quickly vouched to change the subject. Just speaking about Doctor Browning any further would make me want to go throw up in the trash bin.

"But never mind about that, Max. Really, it's over now. Why don't you tell your big sister about how you did in school today? Mommy was saying last week that report cards are coming soon." I just wanted to have some plain and edifying conversation with the girl whom I had claimed as my daughter. Was that too much to ask?

The little girl smiled coyly before quickly materializing a brown slip of paper, extending it to me with a toothy little grimace. "And what do you bring for me here?" I remarked, taking it gently from her tiny hand. "Ah, so report cards came today?" I said heartily. How surprised I was when I unfolded the slip and seen how well my pride and joy had really done. "And look what we have here, straight A's across the board!" I proudly boasted. Max's face seemed to glow with the pride she felt for herself. "My eyes must be playing a trick on me! Come here, you!"

I scooped up the little one into my lap again, nuzzling her with my nose, kissing her all over. She squealed in joy as the two of us collapsed onto the bed on our sides, laughing hysterically. "You did so well! Yes you did!" I tickled the child's stomach, exciting a high pitched laugh from the little one as she rolled to and fro.

For me, this was another cherished "mommy moment". Max managed to roll away from me, playfully throwing a stuffed animal my way. I dodged it briskly, all the while continuing to laugh and bask in Max's joyful mood. She tossed a second one at me before noisily hopping back onto the bed.

She certainly didn't need the ability to speak to tell me how she felt. She grabbed one of the pillows and quickly began a pillow fight. I took another pillow and held it over my face, pretending to scream. Max was jumping up and down on the bed, an endless little ball of energy. I pretty much let her get the better of me as she had her fun.

But our little playtime together was short lived. I looked up to see Kate staring me down with a stoic expression from outside the doorway. It was a look of complete and total contempt for me. It was as if I were the sole cause of every problem in her life. Max had stopped dead in her tracks and collapsed down onto the mattress, unsure of what to make of her mother's coldness which must have seemed so alien to her young mind.

Kate's stone cold eyes seemed to grab hold of my heart. I knew without a doubt what she was trying to tell me. She wanted me to know how much of a thorn in her side that I had become. I couldn't even begin to estimate how long she stood there before moving back towards her room. Max's mouth hung open in a perfect oval shape. But I refused to allow myself to be intimidated by that woman's advances. I scooted over and patted Max's back a few times, letting her know that there was nothing to be concerned about. Her new mommy would make damn sure of that!

The six year old slowly inched her way off the bed and tiptoed to the door. She cautiously grabbed hold of the doorway before peaking her little head out into the hall. It was as if she were searching for a monster. Whether Kate intended to or not, she had no doubt placed the fear back into Max's heart. She looked back towards me. I put a finger to my mouth to hush her. The air was electric. I felt that Kate would jump out at any moment to claim the both of us. But I'll say it again, I would NOT allow her to intimidate me any further. Max had my full protection but I wasn't comfortable with her curiosity.

"Max, get back here!" I said softly yet with a sense of urgent need. The little one refused my pleas and headed out into the hallway. I tried to convince myself that there was nothing to be worried about. After all, Max wasn't the one who had done anything wrong. Kate placed the blame solely on my shoulders, and Syrah's as well for that matter. But I still felt an unshakeable fear as Max exited the bedroom and disappeared out of sight. A mother's instinct after all is to keep their child safe.

This stuck in my mind as I rallied to my feet to go after her. The worst case scenario in my mind being that Kate would take her anger out on the innocent child. Kate seemed capable of anything. After all, do I even need to mention the incident with the belt again? The woman was a pile of explosives just waiting to be lit.

'Thanks for ruining our fun, Kate,' I thought wretchedly. Setting my fears to the side, I boldly took a step into the hallway. "Come on Max, this isn't...", but NO, I wasn't allowed to finish my sentence. I instantly felt a stern, cold hand grip the back collar of my dress. In the blink of an eye, before I could try to mount any reaction, I found myself being dragged backwards and down the hall with such force that my feet were literally dragging on their heels. "WHAT IS THIS?" I cried out shrilly. I shrieked as if the devil himself had come to take me as his prize. I was suddenly swung around with great speed, sending me into a severe dizzy spell.

All I could focus on was Kate's menacing, glowering face, coming back to haunt me yet again. "Be quiet, just BE QUIET!" she warned maliciously. This could not be good! I twisted like a fish on a line, hollering at the top of my lungs, begging, pleading to be released.

She continued dragging me by the arm, a sharp pain shooting through it. I fell down to my knees as I struggled for my freedom. "Mommy, NO! MOMMY! I didn't do anything WRONG! What did I do?" I cried vehemently. "PLEASE, MOMMY! Please! LET ME GO! You're HURTING ME!"

"GET IN THE BEDROOM RIGHT NOW!" she screamed. I refused to rise to my feet. "I SAID...GET IN THERE!" I flinched at the shear tenaciousness and intensity within her voice. But I wasn't about to give up the fight just yet. Like a brutal tug of war I began to pull against Kate. I refused to make things easy for her. The sleeve of my blouse suddenly teared as Kate pulled me along the wooden floor like a sack of rocks.

"SYRAH? DADDY?" Where were they? Why was Kate doing this to me? Why wasn't I being helped? I could have used a hero right about then. A knight in shining armour to come riding to my rescue, to whisk me away on his white steed. But screaming bloody murder was not affecting a rescue.

Then I realized that what had happened in my dream had carried over into reality. Had my mind been trying to tell me something? To warn me of this? I was being taken against my will! I called out to them again but there was still no answer. "STOP FIGHTING, ESTHER, STOP IT AND DO WHAT I TELL YOU FOR ONCE!" Kate's voice was becoming more booming, steeped in her spitefulness. Her harsh demeanor was filled deep with an endless reservoir of pent up anger. As hard as I tried, Kate was simply too big and too strong for me to fight alone. Quickly, I was hauled into Kate's bedroom like a limp rag doll.

Why had my pleas for help gone unaided? Where was Syrah, where was John?

Kate violently slammed the door with a stern kick, seeming to cause the entire room to reverberate. I laid like a load on the carpet, trying in futility to understand what this was all about. She stood over my nimble frame like a towering monument. Her back was straight and her arms were stiff at her sides. She could have done whatever she wanted to do to me at that point.

"You, young lady. You have answers and I want them right now!" she growled. "You're such an impetulant child," she hissed, clearly disgusted by even being within my presence. What was about to go down next? My mind could give me no hint of an answer. I remembered the sting of the belt only days before and I wasn't in any mood for a repeat.

"Why are you lying on the ground? STAND UP! On your feet, this instant, young lady!" It didn't matter how much I tried to convince myself that I was stronger than Kate, she had me shaking all over in a fright. I rose slowly to face her, struggling to maintain my balance, doing everything to avoid even a passing glance into her hollow eyes. I braced myself, almost expecting to be cracked across the mouth but I held my silence. Kate was now the apex predator and I was her prey. It was supposed to be the other way around. NOT LIKE THIS!

My mind was flush with reasons for this sudden episode. But Kate was quick to fill in the blanks for me. She paced before me like a pack mule, shaking her head in dismay. She was wearing a heavy mind, that was surely for certain. "I want answers, Esther. And don't you dare try to beat around the bush about this because believe me, I'm in no mood for it." I kept my head hung low so as not to appear defiant, trying to take on the role of subservient, docile little Esther. I tensed my muscles in an attempt to stop the shaking which seemed to work so long as I focused on it. Kate continued forward with what she had to say.

"What did you tell Doctor Browning this morning? And you better be honest with me because I will find out one way or the other." I nervously rubbed my foot against the carpet before finally mustering the courage to meet her angry eyes.

"Nothing, mommy. Nothing bad or anything. We just.. we just talked, that's all. She's a real nice lady. Please, mommy. I didn't tell her anything bad", I told her with a shy and quiet sweetness. I knew that if I spoke to her in any other fashion that I would send her into another one of her trademark rages which was something the whole house could do without. Believe me, despite how much I wanted to spit and scream in that woman's face, I kept quiet for the sake of Max, John and my sister. Ironic, wasn't it? The idea that Leena Klammer was trying to protect people from someone else's rage.

Kate was becoming more assertive, more aggressive. The malice began to show on her face. "You're nothing but a spoiled, selfish little liar, you know that? That's all you do is LIE! She told me I was beating you. That I was hurting you. I swear to God, Esther. I SWEAR TO GOD! You better HOPE you didn't tell her that."

I shook my head in vehement denial. "No, mommy. The belt and all that. I swear, mommy. I didn't say that! I haven't told another soul. I stayed quiet like you wanted me to. Please don't hit me again, mommy. Please, I won't tell!" Keep in mind this was all just another act. Just a way of trying to win points and get out of this predicament. "Please don't be mad anymore, I don't like to see my mommy so unhappy." I tried to win the fool's sympathy by attempting to grab a hug but I was stopped as she pushed me away.

"Then why in the hell did she say that I was hurting you? And that sister of yours. What was she saying? Or are the both of you making up stories about me?" I was finding myself quickly running out of anything I could say that would placate her. Or was that even possible to begin with? She paced all around the room, passing back and forth from the closet to the window, running her hands through her unkempt hair in a growing wave of frustration. "And John," she said bitterly. "All your father does is spoil you rotten." Her harsh, hate filled voice, a clear sign of her true colours towards me. I dropped my eyes back to the carpet, almost wanting to pretend that the voice I was hearing was all in my head.

She leaned over me like a menacing monolith, but still, I refused to allow myself to crack and crumble into a pile of rubble. Nonetheless. her demeanor was ever so offensive to my sensibilities. She continued spewing her venomous words, a foul poison to my ears.

"You ungrateful little child. A brat, that's what you are. The things that must've come out of your mouth. And to think about all I have put on the line for you? Look at me when I speak." I slowly lifted my chin, once again forced to gaze upon this piece of living, breathing garbage. The sight of her was like a disease to my eyes. A curse on my very existence. She continued on in her tirade against me. "After all this time, what do I do for you? I take you out of that Girl's Home, I give you a REAL home. I feed you, I put a roof over your head, I treat you with love and respect. I try to give you a normal life, the best life I possibly can. And how am I repaid for all of this? What do I get in return? Do I get love? Do I get respect?"

She tore away the wrappings from her still wounded hand. A large, ugly scab had formed over where I had left those brutal, animalistic bite marks. It almost seemed to border on infection. She held the hand out to me, the sight filling me with a new found sickness.

"How about it, Esther? Care for another bite? Did mommy's blood taste good in your mouth?" She turned her head and spat to the side. Like it or not, and blush may I be to admit it, but now I was starting to become nervous. Where the hell was this all leading to? What was the method behind this madness?"

My back was now tight against the wall. There was hell in Kate's eyes. They were dark like the eyes of a serpent, completely devoid of joy or love. I could see it so crystal clear now. Suddenly, I found the courage beginning to well up inside of me, overcoming the brief wave of nervous apprehension that had so rashly overtaken my mind. She wanted to start war once more? Then I would oblige her wishes!

"Is that so, Kate? Your blood in my mouth? Consider those bites marks to be a little gift from me to you. How does that sound? Well, if you want to give me a good licking again then do it now, or do you have anything else to say to me?" This was a jaw dropping moment for her. She became ashen in her appearance, as if she had seen a ghost. It was obvious just how deeply offended she was by my attempt to so boldly hold my ground.

"You see 'mommy'," which I said with great sarcasm, my lip curling at the corner, feeling so much bolder, the fight returning to me for another round. "I think I understand why you're mad. Oh, yes Kate. Somebody's a little jealous?"

I could see the veins beginning to rise out of Kate's neck, almost at bursting point. She was red hot with rage. "What do you mean? Jealous? Jealous of WHAT?" she snarled, spraying me with spittle. I wiped my face in disgust, then turned back to face her.

"A pretty young woman named Syrah," I said keenly, snickering coldly at her. "A woman who you KNOW is so much better than you. Both inside AND out."

I think neither of us could quite believe what was coming out of my mouth. I felt empowered and emboldened for once in my life. It was such a liberating feeling that made me feel so alive, so enriched. And every word I spoke was like a little seed of hatred directed at Kate. But if I were to be so bold then she would double up on her efforts to extinguish my cocky, arrogant mannerisms.

"Oh, that sister of yours?" she said. "You mean the one who is after my husband? Hmm? That filthy slut? Her? Well, she's going to be out of here soon enough and if you keep it up, so are you. I'm so tired of everyone taking your side. I've had it up to HERE with all this, do you understand me? And I MEAN what I SAY, Esther."

I acted passively, as if her words went through one ear and out the other. I crossed my arms as I gave her a delightful smile, just like the first time we met. I almost wanted to stick my tongue out at her like the petulant child she thought of me as. "You wipe that smile off of your face before I do it for you, young lady!", she warned. I gave her a smug, arrogant look.

"And just so you know, Esther Coleman, guess who called? Sister Abigail! And guess who called her? Huh? Want to take a guess you spoiled child? Doctor Browning! I just got a phone call from Saint Mariana's about this! So what do YOU have to say now, you disrespectful brat?"

I looked at Kate as if she had horns growing out of her head and had turned bright pink. My eyes widened almost to the size of dinner plates. Did I just hear her correctly? For me, this was the straw to break the camel's back. This was NOT something that I wanted to hear if I lived a million years. The smile instantly melted from my face. The bold empowerment I had been feeling was now smothered by the most terrible sense of unwelcome dread. I began to feel light headed, as if the blood were draining from my brain. I swayed slightly from side to side.

A deathly chill came over my entire body, both inside and out. I raised my voice to my so called mother. There had to be some simple reason for this. "Why? Why did the doctor call Sister Abigail?" I demanded. "Tell me, Kate! WHY did she CALL?"

Kate looked like she wanted to smack the shit clear out of me. She pointed a finger right in my face. "Because of YOU! That's why! You told the doctor something serious about me and like it or not I'm going to find out and when I do you better hope to God to have an explanation or you can go live with your sister some place else for all I care." She pointed to the window in emphasis, her arm shaking.

Now the cards were all laid out on the table. I knew that there would soon be little to hide. "Sister Abigail is coming over tomorrow and I don't know what she wants to talk about. She won't answer my questions until she gets here in person. This is all your fault!" Kate poked me hard in the shoulder as she spoke. I turned my head away from that vile skank, too sickened to hear whatever else she had to spew out of her sewer hole of a mouth. Enraged by my defiance, she grabbed my chin and jerked my head forward, pressing hard on either side of my jaw. My lips forcefully puckered open in her hard grasp.

"And I'll tell you this right now because I'm not going to repeat myself twice. If I find out that you were making up stories to that doctor then you better start packing your suitcases this instant because I WILL see to it that you find another place to stay. And don't expect your father to come bailing you out this time because there's no way I'm going to allow him to interfere. If you DARE tried to make me look bad after all the things I have done for you and all of the sacrifices I have made, then so be it. I wish you all the best in your young life. But you won't be staying here another night if that's the case. Believe me, I'll make sure of that. Oh, the words I have to say to you! You have a lot of nerve, Esther. I will not allow a little manipulator to live around my children."

My expression was stone cold, flat and lifeless. "You can act as sweet as sugar all you want around your father, you slithering little snake. But I'm on to you. Oh yes!" God, when the hell would she just shut the fuck up already? Her threats, her idle remarks. Sticks and stones would break my bones, but her words meant shit to me. She continued on. "Tomorrow, we'll find out, Esther. What you did to me is just inexcusable. Don't think for a second that I've let it go." She angrily wrapped her bandages back around her hand. "Now, get out of my room.", she shouted passionately. "Go do something useful for a change."

For me there would be no parting words, no clever and witty comebacks. No, not this round. I peeled myself from off the wall and shuffled from out of her sight. I was hardly an inch out the door before she slammed it behind me. She did so with such a force that I nearly lost my balance. Suddenly, I heard Kate begin to cry. Bitter grief filled the air as her moans reverberated within my ears. But her cries were a true symphony to me. I fed off them, her misery was my sustenance. It kept me going, kept me moving. I smiled callously as they grew louder. I knew I was slowly chipping away at her foundations. I felt satisfied in my endeavor to prove to her how villainous I could truly be. Satisfied with how I was making her life a living hell.

And what was I thinking about the Doctor having called Sister Abigail? Many thoughts soon plagued my mind. Was she simply giving Sister Abigail some basic health information about me? Perhaps simply letting the nun know how I was adjusting to my new home? Or was it something more dire, more sinister? Something that I would dare not think about lest to drive myself mad? No, I had to be thinking too deep into this matter. Surely it was something plain and insignificant. Maybe if I told this to myself enough times then perhaps it would come true.

But my anger towards Kate soon took center stage once again. If she thought for a moment that she was going to permanently pry me away from MY John and MY Max then she was truly playing with some hot fire. I knew I could manipulate my way from out of any situation that may arise come the next day. For I wasn't about to be defeated by an incompetent nun and a housewife with drinking problems. Call me a narcissist, call me a manipulator, but I knew I would get the better of them when push came to shove, at least I hoped that would be the case.

By this time, I simply stood in the doorway to my room as I listened to Kate continue to throw herself an amusing pity party. "That little brat is GONE! That little brat is GONE!" she yelled out. "I don't give a rat's ass what anybody has to say! That brat and her whore of a sister are GONE! Both of them MUST GO!" Her voice was filled with a primal madness, so full of pain.. She was already dead inside, filled with a living death and I had been the cruel executioner to bring her to that hopeless point. And just as I had killed her soul, I hoped to soon enough be the executioner of her body as well. Both would go into the cold earth together, making eternal bedfellows of one another.

Suddenly, footsteps approached. I looked towards the stairs, glancing at Syrah as she climbed the steps before turning towards me down the hallway. She had managed to return to her casual self, seemingly unaware of what just happened. This made me angry. How could she not have heard the ruckus from down there? Kate was behaving like a wild lion and nobody noticed? I met her in the middle of the hall and grabbed her wrist, yanking her quickly into the privacy of my bedroom.

I managed to catch her off guard once again. "What is it now, honey? I was just going to take a nap in my room. I haven't been sleeping well myself, you know?" My eyes jerked around nervously. I was paranoid that my words were being listened on by you know who. When in doubt, it was a wonderful thing to be bilingual. My words measured out in Estonian, I could feel confident with saying what needed to be said to Syrah. After all, I was hell bent on keeping preserved what precious little privacy I felt that I had left.

The door shut, the two of us alone once again, I was free to speak my mind. "A nap? Now is not a good time for a NAP! Where in the hell were you? Do you know what that BITCH in the other room just did to me? Do you care to know? You're going to forget ALL about faith after what I have to tell you." My sister's eyes were glazed over in a sudden state of confusion. "Well?" I asked.

She finally shook herself out of it, placing a hand upon my shoulder in an attempt to bring me some measure of calm. Not that it would do much good in that regard. "Come on, Leena. Please, can't we just let it go already?" I took hold of her wrist once more and squeezed tightly, trying to emphasize the urgency of my situation.

"You mean you didn't hear Kate dragging me into her bedroom? You didn't hear me begging for her to release me. Where had you been when I needed you the most?" Syrah looked puzzled.

"What in the world are you talking about? I was outside getting some fresh air. It's too stuffy in this house. I just got in for Christ's sake." Letting my emotions boil over, I picked up a paintbrush from my easel and threw it at the mirror, bouncing off harmlessly but nevertheless letting Syrah know just how I was feeling.

She admonished me for my actions in a stern but gentle tone of voice. "Honey, lashing out is not the way to handle your problems here. Acting this way isn't going to win any sympathy with me and it's not going to help solve anything, is it? Remember to breath deep and let it all out in a healthy way." But right now I could care less about breathing exercises. There was danger all about and it was my duty to keep Syrah in the know.

"Syrah, let me get straight to the point with you. Kate was going ape shit because Doctor Browning called Sister Abigail and Sister Abigail just called Kate a matter of just a short while ago."

My sister was certainly quick to change her tune no sooner had those words departed my lips. "What is this about? How can I help you if I don't know?" she said.

I stomped my foot onto the floor. "Damn it, I DON'T KNOW! But, if I heard Kate correctly, and I swear I heard her say it. Sister Abigail, that bitch, she's coming over tomorrow to talk with John and Kate. Who the fuck knows what's going to happen from there!"

I grabbed hold of a ceramic pencil holder and raised it high above my head, as if wanting to slam it down on an opponent. Syrah grabbed hold of my wrist and attempted to wrestle the object from my firm, angry grasp. "Let go, give it to me. Stop it, Leena, STOP!" My hand weakened and I gave way as the pencil holder clattered to the ground. I slowly, ever so slowly began to back myself against the door. Turning my head, I let my body sink down to the ground until I was in a fetal position. I buried my head between my knees, crossing my arms over them. My mind was swimming. Every thought and emotion I was feeling seemed to be amplified a hundred times more than normal. My brain was overloaded. I couldn't get the thought of Sister Abigail out of my head, that evil witch. What trouble did she have in store for me?

Ah, the soft feeling of my sister's delicate fingernails caressing my scalp, lovingly gliding through my hair with the utmost tenderness. But I couldn't hold back. I broke down again into another sobbing fit. "Oh, Syrah. My God, how many tears have I cried this last week? For whom do I cry for? You and I. yes. John and Max, yes. But why can't I have some tears of joy for a change? I'm not asking for the world on a platter, am I? Kate threatened us both. She said we would both be out of the house come tomorrow. She knows Sister Abigail only has bad news to bring. This is the horrible catastrophe that I said was coming. We can't do anything about it now. You and I, we might as well pack our bags. It's game over."

Syrah crouched down in front of me. She stuck to the high road, refusing to allow herself to sink into my depths of despair. "All will be well, sweetheart. And let me be the first to say, no matter what tomorrow brings, be it good or bad, I love you. And I'm not going to abandon you no matter how crazy this roller coaster ride becomes. And I'm so sorry for what happened today, I really am. From the bottom of my heart, please accept my apology."

I clutched onto her like a frightened child would do to their parent. My voice shook as I spoke, my Estonian accent subdued. "I love you, too! If I had to, I would walk over broken glass, over hot coals, through hell itself and back if it meant I could make things better for you. For both of us. But it's all my fault. It's my fault. My fault! MY FAULT!" I tried to calm myself, but it was no use, a pointless endeavor. My voice was raised, my body trembling all over. I could feel the cold shiver running up the base of my spine.

"If it hadn't been for me acting like a fucking moron, none of this would have happened to begin with. And now look at us, look at what I put us in. No, you're not the one who needs to apologize here. You're blameless, you're heart is vindicated. You have every right to put the blame on my shoulders. I'm the one who needs to bear a guilty conscious, not you. Whatever consequences I'm forced to endure, it will be I and I alone to suffer them. But a patient heart I do not have to wait out such tedious and unrelenting madness."

Syrah was so touched. "Don't let Kate get the better of you, Leena. It's just not worth it. Believe me, dear, I know better than anybody that Kate wants me out of the house. It's something she wants to come true more than anything. But what is she doing? Making idle threats. There's no substance behind it, just words. Words most unnatural. Remember, John has the final say and not her. If I were you, I would keep my distance from Kate for the rest of the day. She's in no mood and neither are we. You understand?" A glimmer of hope had finally returned to my sad eyes and I could tell that Syrah could sense it.

"There's just too many outcomes for me to consider, Syrah. If Sister Abigail comes over and suspects abuse...can you imagine the kind of fallout that will ensue? I can devise of no argument that would save me then. I'd rather die a thousand deaths than to have to face that." My sister nodded, understanding my plight in a manner as no one else could.

"Don't be so troubled. We both possess keen wit, do we not? And I assure you that tomorrow will be a victory for the both of us. You're just upset because Kate admonished you. That's all it was, an admonishment. Nothing more, nothing less. You know something? I think I can direct your mind to something of a more calming effect. To bring a little cheer back in your day. Tell you what, I've brought something very special with me from Estonia. I'm surprised I haven't gotten around to showing it to you. Just take a seat and wait right here. Be back in a moment." I stood up lazily from off the floor and sat back down at the edge of my bed.

"Leena Klammer, what's next in life?" I thought.

Syrah scanned the hallway before making it to her room, obviously not wanting any kind of encounter with you know who. I wondered what Syrah was so intent on showing to me. Hopefully it would be a cyanide tablet to put an end to this self-inflicted hell, where even demons fear to tread. Enclosed within my beating heart, black as coal yet red with rage, I thought of every deadly and ruthless manner in which I could dispatch of Kate once and for all, just as I had a thousand times before..

For her quarrelsome and wicked deeds against me, I would find penance at the edge of a knife or in some other gruesome fashion that I would find fit enough to please my soul. Today's drama only furthered my steel resolve to send Kate to hell in a hand basket. I would send her off with a blood soaked hand and none the moment too soon. Today was just another dress rehearsal for things to come. I know, I know. All I do is bitch, don't I?

Kate remained sequestered in her room, no doubt overcome by her own alcoholic self-loathing. I entertained the notion with soulful glee as to whether she felt intimidated by all of our recent clashes. It was open season and I wasn't holding back anymore.

"Yes, Kate. We'll see who goes to hell first. We'll see who goes first! We'll see who gets burned after all this, yes we will!" I sputtered angrily. There would be no truce. No call to disarm. I would crown myself the victor at the end of this war. She hadn't yet seen the worst of me, not by a long shot. I had her wrapped around my finger and deep down inside, somewhere deep within that withered, booze soaked brain of hers, she knew it was the ghastly truth. Cast forth the red carpet and sound the trumpets, for I would dislodge her from John's side and take my place beside my king. Yes, I would be queen of this household, and Max my little princess.

But enough crafty machinations, for there would be other times to entertain them. Syrah returned with what appeared to be a large book clutched within her arms. "Close that door behind you, Sy. We need not another shouting match with that wench who has tucked her tail between her legs and buries her sorrows with strong drink. I'm certain she has the bottle to her lips as we speak. Max, that poor thing, she doesn't deserve a mother like that. Too gentle a dove to be soiled by that woman's treachery!"

Syrah stopped me in my tracks, putting a hand up to silence me before I could go off on another tangent on how much better of a mommy I could and would be for Max. "Leena, enough already, please. My head is still going a thousand miles a minute the way it is. I have something here that will cheer us up." She extended the faded red book towards me. "Do you recognize this?", she asked. I placed a hand over the worn surface.

"No, this doesn't ring a bell," I said, squinting quizzically at the book cover.

"Silly, it's our photo album." she replied cheerfully. "Photos from the old country, from back in the day."

The two of us sat on the edge of the bed. My interest was peaked as she placed the book in her lap. I scooted closer for a better view. She opened the front cover, the pages yellowed with age. She turned two more pages before coming across the first of the photos that she wanted to present. They were glued onto the paper like an old fashioned scrapbook. Most of them were in black and white, obviously quite old indeed.

She pointed to an old Polaroid on the first page, marked at the bottom was the year "1979". Syrah let out a little giggle. "The toddler with the pet gerbil. That's you, honey." It was almost mesmerizing. There I was at three years old.

"Such a simpler time," I recalled. "Where does the time go? Thirty years, Syrah!" I looked at myself, a time when I was truly innocent. I was wearing a light blue dress and my mother had put ribbons in my hair, not at all unlike the ribbons I was forced to wear as an adult. Oh, such a sense of nostalgia passed over me. I could remember having a lisp. That was why I started calling Syrah "Sy Sy" because I couldn't pronounce my 'Rs'. And the nickname had just stuck. I gently touched my fingertips to the photo. How the sight of myself, so young, so innocent, so full of hope, almost brought a tear to my eye.

"And here is me in my school uniform. Grade 10, 1986. Just a class photo," Syrah remarked.

"You look just as beautiful now as you did then," I told her sweetly. This elicited a broad smile from my sister. Another photo, dated July of 1981, featured Syrah and I swimming in the large pond we had on our parent's land when we were growing up. Syrah was about ten and I couldn't have been older than five.

"Do you remember the summers when we were kids, Leena? Remember getting sick from the pond water?" She nudged me in the shoulder, "remember how you chased me all around the pond trying to splash me that day?"

I laughed out loud at the memory. "I threw up on mother that day. Yes, Syrah. Those were great times. Almost 30 years ago. Again, where has the time gone?"

Below this was a picture of our late grandmother from around the second world war.

"Grandmother, she fought against the Germans in 1941", Syrah said in a soft spoken, respectful tone. "Died in the Nazi POW camp. She must have been a strong woman to have fought alongside the men. What a shame we never got the chance to know her. She died decades before either of us were born into this world. Our endurance, our inner strength, I think we get it from her."

I looked at the photo again, sort of transfixed on it. "She looks like me," I remarked. "Well, me if I ever got the chance to grow out of this body." Syrah nodded agreeably, turning to the next page. I eyed the first color photograph in the album. I tapped it with a gentle finger. "That was father's car, his Yugo. A 1965, I think." What was strange is that Syrah refused to even acknowledge the photo's existence. I realized I had made a mistake as, after all, Syrah could not stand to hear any mention of our father. I knew it proper to be more careful next time.

She seemed to brush it off as her attention was drawn to the next picture. Syrah and I in about 1988, we were sitting together in an auditorium amongst a large group of other young people. "You can't tell me you don't remember this, Leena. Back when Estonia was a Communist country and we had to sit through these boring Communist Youth meetings?" It was amusing to see the quizzical looks on our faces.

"All I cared about were the boys there," I laughed memorably.

Syrah raised her right hand. "I'm guilty as charged," she joked. We meandered through the pages. A plethora of precious memories. They made me cherish my sister all the more passionately. I suddenly came across a more recent photo that touched my heart.

A stranger had taken the photo for us. It was of Syrah and I at the train station back in Estonia, just a short while after I busted out of Saarne. The train that began my journey into Russia. The journey that would eventually lead me here with the Colemans. It was taken just moments before my departure, the two of us in tears, in one final embrace. The last photo of the two of us for over a year.

Syrah covered her mouth, then fanned her face with her hand, trying to hold back her tears. I could only replicate what I was seeing in that special moment, taking her in embrace. Syrah was moved to tears once more. So fair a soul. She could melt like butter sometimes.

"We'll add to this photo album, Syrah. Pictures of you and I. Pictures of Max and John. My wedding day with him. The beginning of a new family and a new future." She wiped her eyes once more. "Let's take tomorrow by the horns, shall we, Sy Sy?" The images of our past had set me on a new plane of thought. Sister Abigail would be the LAST person to stand in my way towards a brighter future. Little did I know just how true those words would become.

In the next chapter, Sister Abigail finally pays her visit to the Coleman household. But will Kate stand accused or was Esther overreacting all along? Thank you so much for reading and for your continual support. Please comment and subscribe :)