Well, I'm back, but I am really disappointed. Where the hell is my feedback, um? You perfectly know how I love you, guys, and how you inspire me. So...

Chapter 4. Clarice.

Same shit – another day. Clarice woke up in the dark, sweaty. Those nightmares were haunting her again and again...

She didn't feel like sleeping anymore. Perfectly knowing it won't do any good to her health she still tried to occupate her mind with some good thoughts and rememberings. But it was no use. The thought of her father made her cry at once.

Then she thought about the events of the previous day and at instant became shy of her tears. There was the man whom she was able to trust. Who was – or Clarice hoped so – incapable of betraying. Who was to keep her secrets. Good Doctor.

She turned on the light and took several books from the shelf. One of them was "The Old Man and The Sea". Clarice didn't know why she liked this book so much, but sometimes it was the only book to bring her a good night sleep. The sea...

I am a girl of West Virginia, she thought. Why do I have a strong will to be near the sea, to feel the caressing breeze over my cheeks, to smell the salty air? To stare at the horizon.

Because sometimes we do not belong to where we are, she thought. Where do I belong to? The sea?

The Loneliness. I belong to the Loneliness.

The sudden thought made her freeze. I will never belong to this world, it tore me apart, now I will never put the jigsaw pieces of my life into their proper place.

Maybe Good Doctor would be able to do it?

Clarice no longer wanted to read. Neither to sleep. She got up and came to the piano. It stood quietly – wooden, black, polished piece of furniture, sorry for her, sorry its silent twin became the reason for her imprisonment.

She closed the window. Noone should hear the sound of the music I could decide to play, she thought. I could never become friends with Mozart.

She knew she couldn't become a great pianist, because she began playing too late. All the storiesh she read about the great musicians started with: "he/she began playing at five or six". She was ten and a half. What she could possibly achieve in music?

But she wanted to be friends with the piano. Music gave her an unspeakable feeling of belonging. Could the Loneliness have possibly found its shelter in the sounds of the Music?

The piano remained silent. Clarice couldn't make herself unite her soul with the sounds. Not tonight.

She shared her breakfast with the Headmaster, who was unusually silent. When Clarice asked about the Good Doctor, the woman replied:

"He's gone. Neither of us know where he is, not even miss L., his companion."

"Companion?" ah, yes, of course, how could such a man do without women? Second thouhg which came into her mind was:'You, stupid girl, don't tell me you're jealous.'

"I forgot to tell you yesterday, that we have a very important guest. Miss. L. is an old friend of our orphanage and dispatch reasonable amounts of money to charity. When she was here last time – about three years ago – you weren't with us.

Great. And isn't Good Doctor a part of her charity? To cure an insane girl?

I don't want to be an object of charity, she thought. I know, I can't, but I can manage to lessen an amount of charity given to me. No, Good Doctor, I don't want to see you anymore.

"Are you feeling better today?" asked the headmaster noticing her pale complexion.

"No, not really," said Clarice, glad she found the reason to refuse seeing the Good Doctor. If he comes back. "I had a sleepless night, so I'd rather be alone today and try to get some sleep."

"All right. If you need something, just call."

They finished their breakfast in silence.

Hannibal Lecter was driving back to the orphanage in his luxurious Jaguar. He woke up early in the morning, leaving his companion lying on a huge double bed. She never woke up – his abilities not to make much noise grew with years of practice.

He needed to purchase some items for work. If he is to cure this girl, then he is to explain her she could cope up with her hate to the teacher for the sake of music. He went to the bookshop to find notes. Mozart will do, he thought. At least for the first time, to make her feel... content? Happy?

Doesn't he know what really makes her happy?

She is NOT Mischa, don't forget, she isn't.

She is just an orphan, who probably is in a great need of family.

But why couldn't she control her feelings?

Brave Clarice. She showed her feelings for the world with so much honesty. Her honesty could be the key to her soul. She woud tell him today why did she bit her music teacher. Imagine Mischa biting her enemies, drawing blood, imagine their eyes filled with panic, imagine her alive...

I will do it, Mischa, he thought. This girl did the thing I couldn't make myself to do without any special skills, any preparations. She used the only right weapon which could be chosen.

It was one p.m. when he came back. His companion greeted him with a curious look. Hannibal opened one of the packages and took a nice bottle of Amaroni. She clapped her hands like a little girl who is given an unexpected present.

"I want to see the girl after lunch."

"Darling, it's impossible. They say she feels unwell."

What did they do to her again?

"Have they explained what's wrong?"

"No, they didn't say any particular, just that she's unable to receive visitors."

Did it really matter what they say? After yesterday he couldn't imagine her refusing to see him. Hannibal decided he will find the way to see the girl. No matter what it cost him.

"... people will say we're in love..."

If I don't get feedback, I won't post a new chapter. Just because I want to know whether I've done something wrong. I know, this is blackmail, but I need you, my dear readers. Protégé.