Thanks for the review Raina Skye! Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it :)

Chapter II

Early the next morning a worker at the Asylum roughly woke Selena up. He led her out into the hall, telling her that she was allowed one hour to eat and wash up. The food was more or less disgusting, and what made it even more nauseating was the fact of that she had to eat in the presence of the other inmates. They all leered at her in a way that made her want to be sick.

She was told that she would be showering under surveillance, and would only be allowed the use of a razor under extreme surveillance. She couldn't help but snort a laugh at this; she hadn't used a razor to slit her wrists.

After showering and putting her 'scrubs,' as she had come to call them, back on she was returned to her 'cell,' and told that Dr. Crane would soon be coming to get her. Sitting down on the bed she pulled her knees up to her chest. Her stomach growled in confusion, it did not like the food she had been forced to eat.

The door opened, revealing Crane to her. She slowly turned her head and looked at him. He was dressed in a simple dark suit, his jaw was set, his glasses placed atop the bridge of his nose. Her eyes flickered down to his lips; she remembered how much she had loved kissing those lips.

"Are you ready to begin?" He asked, breaking her reminiscing reverie. She slowly stood up and walked towards him. "Follow me." He said to her. They walked down the long hallway, stopping when they came to an elevator. Selena let out a soft almost inaudible sigh.

"Enjoying your stay Miss Hernt?" Crane asked. Her eyes flashed with anger, "Hernt isn't my last name. And you know that. You know what my last name is." She spat at him. He showed no sign of emotion as they stepped into the elevator. "I'm sorry, but Hernt is what was written on the papers." He said to her. "Well I don't give a shte for what it said on the damn papers! It was never legally changed to that! So you very well know what my last name is, Jonathon."

A smile flickered onto his face but it was gone so quickly it was almost as if it never had even been there. 'Ahhh … she's still the same. Still the same feisty woman I used to know.' He thought to himself. 'And love …' A voice in the back of his head added.

Walking out into another hallway that was completely identical to every other hallway in the Asylum, Selena stopped. He continued walking and only stopped when she spoke up.

"You know why I'm here." She said to him. He slowly turned around and looked at her. Clasping his hands behind his back he moved towards her. "No actually, I don't." He said to her. He stopped moving, standing directly in front of her. There was no one around, no one to see, that's why he liked this floor; there was never anyone else here but him. "You know why." She repeated.

"You're here because you tried to kill yourself." He said. She nodded, "Yes. But I really didn't intend on killing myself, I only was using it as a cry for help." Selena explained. He couldn't help but smirk.

"Pathetic." He murmured. "No one uses suicide as a cry for help." He turned to continue walking down the hallway. "No?" She asked, "Then what do you consider this?" She said as she held up her arms, revealing her bandaged wrists. "I only cut deep enough to make myself bleed, I didn't slice my vein. What do you consider that?"

He looked at her wrists and then back into her eyes. "Stupidity." He said flatly. Before he had a chance to react she slapped him hard across the face, sending his glasses askew. Crane stood there for a moment, his cheek stinging, and now tinged a faint pink. He then straightened his glasses and roughly grabbed her by the arm. "I'd not do that again if I were you." He said, bringing her face dangerously close to his.

She grimaced; his thumb was digging into her wound. "Please …" She gasped out. He pushed her against the wall, "Hit me again and you'll get a lot more worse punishment then this." He hissed. Tears were falling down her face, "Jon! Please! You're hurting me!"

Crane let go of her and stepped back, straightening his suit. She was slumped over, leaning against the wall, cradling her now bleeding arm. "Come on." He said to her, and they continued down the hall.

He brought her into his office, and told her to sit in the chair in front of his desk. Sitting down, she watched him as he took out a folder from the drawer in his desk and then sat down as well. He scribbled a few things and then looked up at her. "Why were you using suicide as a cry for help?" He asked, but before she had a chance to answer he added, "What makes your life so terrible then everyone else's?"

Anger seethed through her veins. "You know the answer to both of those questions Jonathon!" She exclaimed. He leaned back in his seat and studied her for a moment. "Why now?" He asked. "Why hadn't you tried getting help any time sooner?" She seemed to have shrunk in her seat; she suddenly looked so small and helpless.

"My life was fine up until six months ago. My father remarried, she was an absolute biatch to me, treating me as if I was ten. Her son was even worse, he would verbally abuse me any chance he could get, and then he started getting physical. Not in an abusive way…" She slowly looked up until her eyes met Crane's, "A sexual way. The bastard tried to rape me, and I tried to stab him with a butcher knife. Of course his mother believed his story, that I just suddenly attacked him for no reason whatsoever. And my father, who once always stood up for me, did absolutely nothing. His wife had dissolved him into a scared, pathetic little mouse. So … I overdosed on sleeping pills. I was brought to a hospital, they pumped my stomach and then I was sent home. No questions were asked. My stepmother is an extremely persuasive woman. But yet, so am I. I started talking to myself, making it appear as if I were crazy, I knew she would sooner or later take the hint. And well … I thought the cuts on my wrists would be a nice touch, so … that brings me to here."

Crane's heart ached at the thought of all that she had been through. He knew that this was his entire fault. That he could have prevented it all from happening. But it was too late; there was nothing he could do now. The damage was done, it was permanent. There was no going back.

"So you wanted to come here." He said and she nodded. "Why?" He asked. She smiled, and it was her special smile, the only smile that she would give to him, and only him. "You know why Jonathon." She said. "I'm here because of you."