Chapter Two

Hilary stared out the window of her room. She couldn't believe that she was pregnant. She couldn't really remember anything from what happened during the past two months, all she could remember was the fiery red hair and cold, piercing blue eyes. Just the thought of those eyes made her shudder. Those eyes held a warning.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at the door. She looked up and stared at it.

"Hilary," a male voice said, "can I come in?"

She knew that voice. That was Tyson. She had met him the day before along with some other people. The brunette stood up and opened the door. Her ruby eyes shone with questioning as she looked at him.

The bluenette grinned at her. "Hey, Hil. Can I come in your room?"

She stepped aside and let him in. When she turned to follow she made sure that the door was wide open.

He sat down on one end of her bed and she sat on the other, leaving as much space between them as possible.

The brown eyed boy sighed. She didn't trust him. "So, Hil…I came over here to ask if you wanted to come over to my house today and, ya know, hang out with everybody else."

She narrowed her eyes. Why would he want her over at his house? Could she trust him? He was a boy after all, and the man with cold blue eyes had proven to her that boys, or men, couldn't be trusted. All they did was take and take. What they took, she wasn't sure of. All she knew was that it was something that she wasn't willing to give.

Tyson seemed to have sensed her resistance. "C'mon, Hilary. It's not like it'll just be you and me. Kylie, Joan, Tika, and the guys will be there too. Nothing will happen, I promise."

Hilary looked at him skeptically for a few seconds before deciding that he could be trusted. She nodded in agreement.

He grinned at her. "You won't regret it."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged.

The sixteen-year-old sighed. "You haven't said a word since you got back. Don't you ever talk anymore?"

Once again, she shrugged her shoulders. She didn't talk, because she was afraid of what she might say if she did. Besides, her friends that saved her from the man with blue eyes refused to let her utter a word. They were afraid of what she might say as well.

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Dawn sighed as she looked out the window. Hilary refused to talk to anyone. If they wanted to ask her something, they had to ask her a yes or no question, or give her paper and pencil. But anytime someone asked her about what happened during the last two months, she'd stiffen and immediately leave the room, curl up into a tiny ball, or let her eyes dart around the room like a frightened child being pursued by some unknown monster.

The thirty-year-old sighed. Maybe it was a good idea to take Hilary to a psychiatrist. She sighed. "I'll talk to Drew about it later."

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A man with fiery red hair and icy blue eyes stood behind a tree and watched the girl he had abducted two months ago as she ate ice cream sundaes in a small café with her friends. He reached his hand out towards her. Oh how he wished to touch her again, to face to face once again with that fiery spirit that he was so close to breaking. He wanted to see the pain in her eyes as he dove into her time and time again, trying to make her scream, but never succeeding. He wanted to hear her scream. Not just to see the pain in her eyes.

He had come so close to it when he had to let her go. The authorities were getting to close. If he hadn't let her go, he would have been captured.

"Lisa," that's what he called her, "I do hope that you keep your promise. I would hate it if I had to kill you. And you know I will if I have to."

The man watched as a small smile appeared on the girl's face and gasped. She had a breathtaking smile, one he wished to be able to evoke out of her.

"Someday," he whispered, "I'll come back for you, and I'll make you feel pleasure, instead of pain."

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Hilary looked out the café window and stared at one of the trees for a few seconds. She stiffened. He was there. The man with the cold eyes. She quickly averted her gaze. Was he constantly watching her? Did he know where she lived?

Just don't say anything and you'll be find, one of the voices said, He won't do anything if you stay quiet like you promised.

But she has to tell someone, another protested, if she doesn't, other innocent girls could get hurt.

So what? the first voice demanded, She only needs to think about herself. She only needs to protect herself. She shouldn't've even come out with these kids. Who knows what they'll do to her.

They're her friends! the second voice exclaimed.

They're dangerous! the first voice insisted.

They'll protect her, all she has to do is tell them, the second voice was saying, and then they can call the cops and have him arrested and this whole nightmare can be over.

Before either of the voices could continue, Hilary could hear a faint wailing from a small child.

Shut up! the first voice cried uncompassionatly, causing the wails to get louder. I said shut up, you're giving me a headache.

Hilary placed a hand to her head. Indeed, she was beginning to get a headache.

"Hilary?"

She looked up and her eyes connected with those of her older sister's, Kylie. The brunette raised an eyebrow in question.

"Are you okay?" the two-toned hair girl asked worriedly.

She nodded.

Kylie arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because if you want, I can take you home."

She got a napkin and picked up a pen that was sitting on the table and wrote:

"I'm fine. I just have a little headache. It should go away in a little while. But if you're ready to leave, I'll go with you."

She handed the napkin to Kylie who shook her head. "No. I still wanna stay. But, I'll let you know when I'm ready to leave."

Hilary nodded.

The brunette rolled her eyes when she heard the conversation that her friends were having. They were debating over which was a better anime: Inuyasha or Sailor Moon. In all reality, she thought that that was a very good question. She just thought that it was one that you should talk about in the confines of your own house, not out in public.

"Inuyasha is better," Tyson was saying, "It has more gore and blood. Sailor Moon just has a lot of mushy stuff," he said the last part with a small pout.

She smiled and couldn't help but think that he looked kind of cute.

"Nuh-uh!" Joan exclaimed. "Although there is a lot of romance in Sailor Moon there is also a lot of action. And, there's a considerable amount of romance and in Inuyasha too."

"Yes," Max contributed to the conversation, "but not nearly as much as there is in Sailor Moon."

"Are you joking?" Tika exclaimed. "If anything romance on Inuyasha is better. I mean, Inuyasha is torn between his first love and his new love. On Sailor Moon, it's just Darien and Serena. Even though in Sailor Moon, the heroics are better."

"And why do you say that?" Josh demanded.

"Because, in Inuyasha it's your basic fairytale theme. Damsel in distress and big strong guy comes and saves her. Now, in Sailor Moon the girls do all the heroics. Sure, they have the help of Tuxedo, but they do most of the work."

Hilary couldn't help but smile when she looked at Kai. He looked like he was about to strangle someone.

"Can someone please," he said, "tell me the point of this conversation?"

"We're trying to figure out which anime is better: Inuyasha or Sailor Moon."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Just because."

Suddenly, Ray looked Max, Tyson, and Josh. "Why do you guys even watch Sailor Moon? Isn't it more for girls than guys?"

The three guys each turned a different shade of crimson.

Hilary hid her smile behind a notebook she had brought with her. Guys could be so stupid sometimes.

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Dr. Marcus Paisley stared at the file in front of him. The case that was in them was very rare. In most cases like this the victim would usually burry themselves away for a while, but they wouldn't become mutes.

He was sure that Hilary Tatibana would be an interesting case to take on. He flipped through the file. Kidnapped, molested, raped, pregnant, mute, and - from the different ways she reacted when asked about the two months in which she was missing - possibly Multiple Personality Disorder, or MPD.

Yes, he looked forward to meeting the fifteen-year-old the next day. Her case would be an interesting one indeed. For in his thirty-three years of working as a psychiatrist he had never come across a case this complex.