I apologize for not updating sooner but I've had writers block and have been at least semi-busy with school and life in-general, but I am back :-). And here is another chapter.

Enjoy!

Finally the puzzle had all of its pieces in the correct spots and his face was discernible through the thinning haze.

"Who are you?" she tried to keep her voice steady.

The face only made slow, taunting revolutions around her.

Squinting her eyes she closely took in the males features.

His lips were thin, they curled in to a sadistic smirk. Inside his teeth were yellow but with perfect teeth. His breath smelled like pot, mint, and beer. It made her sick to her stomach standing there smelling it. Moving up his nose was flattened causing him to have wide nostrils, it was like he'd been smacked in the face with a frying pan. As she continued her accent up his face his cheeks were high and hollowed where the line of his mouth was, his chin sharp and peaked. But it was his eyes that she was drawn to, they were small and round. His eyelashes were almost nonexistent. The color was rare, a deep ocean blue containing hints of crimson. And they were mean.

Tearing herself from his gaze she repeated what she'd asked earlier.

"You should know who I am."

"But how?"

The face only laughed.

It was then that her body began to quiver, for he whispered almost inaudibly:

"Carla Jules."

"You...you're...I...my..." she stumbled over her words at the same time that she tripped over her own two feet searching for an escape.

"That's right I'm-" his face spun around her faster and faster until the face becomes a blur of human colors. All the colors blend together as his face fades and she finds herself falling.

There seems to be no end in sight; she grapples at the air searching for surface, anything with a potential grip.

"HAHAHA...AHAH"

She screams.

Those mean eyes and sickening breath return, his mouth connected to his eyes so that both are taunting her, making her come to grips with a force she cannot escape.

Suddenly everything comes to a standstill, as if the earth has abruptly ceased to spin.

Water engulfs her.

She cannot breath, yet water does not enter her lungs.

Floor appears below her so she prepares for impact but is simply turned rightside up. Unsure of everything she turns her head right and left, she can take breaths now too. The water has emptied in to a small wading pool, cautiously she approaches.

"No" comes her whisper.

A scene is playing out in the water and it is a scene she knows well.

Eleven years old. Her mother has returned with a bag of cash, the child is playing with a friend in her new bedroom in their new apartment. They play nicely for sometime until the friend must leave because 'Mommy has business to take care of now.' So the friends mother comes only to be promptly shoved out the door with her own little one. From inside come noises, familiar yet remarkably foreign.

"No Ma, I'm not gonna"

"Oh yes you damn well will" her mother shouts.

Events of this day unravel. A desperate 911 from the friends mother. Police breaking down the door. A little girl struggling with all of her eleven years of strength and an accumulation of a dark past not yet over.

"Get the fuck off of me!"

Officer Sentile baulks at this little kids language.

A fight ensues, certainly not the first and by far not the last...

"We are similar, you and I. I'm in your blood, I like to think I gave ya the good stuff."

His face dances now, in place of the memory, in the black water.

"No. ... no way are we anything alike," she shakes her head fervently.

"That's what you think little lady" his mouth grins. She realizes he is coming closer and closer until his acrid breath is at her face.

Slowly she backs away, all the while telling him no.

Then she falls. The last sound before darkness is all there is is his now familiar taunting laugh...

"And that's how it ends?"

Ever so much does she nod.

"Cammie how long have you been having this dream?" Dr. Huang wonders.

"Dream," she chuckles grimly, "more like a nightmare. I dunno awhile."

The two are sitting in a conference room off of the Homes lobby. Olivia had suggested Cammie see a psychiatrist after the two had had breakfast and cleaned themselves of the past days wear and tear.

"What do you think it means?" he asked her.

Cammie shrugged then began to fidget growing uncomfortable under his gaze. It wasn't that she disliked this guy it was simply that she didn't divulge her feelings to anyone, she knew she had trust issues, it was no secret.

"What are you afraid of? Do you think it means you could be like you father?"

A sharp intake of breath gave George the only answer he needed.

"Cammie why do you think you might be like him?"

Another shrug. "Because of all the violence. Because I don't know who the hell I am. Oh and by the way he's not my father just the bastard who raped my mom."

George could see the teenagers quickly expanding exhaustion and exasperation. 'Time to call it an hour' he thought to himself.

"Cammie you think we could meet again? You pick where and when."

The gears in Cam's head were turning, she found it difficult to make this decision, "Day after tomorrow, noontime, in Central Park, the ramble."

"OK you got it."

They parted ways.

For the first time ever Cammie found she had someone waiting for her; she walked in to Liv's open arms, she was as tired as she'd been yesterday.

"Come on, let's go to the Park."

Liv smiled, Cammie mimicking her.

It was getting better, but of course time would tell ... and at least it was a step in the correct direction or somewhere in the vicinity.