Chapter IX: Love Isn't Numb

Days had started to go by almost unnoticeably by Alli, Sam, and Sophia after the magic show they had attended. Alli—although putting on an act of not really caring or remembering what had happened—attended college classes on scheduled days like normal, meeting up with friends and familiar faces who continuously brought up the fact she had held hands with the amazing Criss Angel, and took care of Sophia as if nothing at all had happened over the weekend. A part of her actually believed that those past two days were nothing more than dreams to her, pleasant, sweet dreams that made her hopes of an escape from this life of hers was really a possibility. Sam kept bringing up the fact of that night, though, whenever she could, and Sophia tried to recreate the tricks using whatever items she could, particularly trying to get her stuffed animals to disappear as Christopher had done to Alli. It seemed to be magic fever in the apartment complex, and things weren't any less complicated when Julian arrived every night, forcing Sam to quiet herself against speaking about the show that Julian knew nothing about. Alli's boyfriend, though, has been acting strange for some odd reason, taking Alli out unexpectedly to restaurants and movie theaters, surprising her with special gifts, even showing up after one class to give her a bouquet of red roses and a box of chocolates.

"I wanted to make up for what I did the other day. It was wrong, and I'm sorry," he had told her when she questioned what his motives were. Although she had forgotten for the time being, the now healed bruise on her face reminded her of what he was speaking of.

"It's just an act, Alli. He's trying to get on your good side because he knows he's in the dog house with you. He knows you have the power to just get up and leave, and so he's kissing some ass just to stay with you," Sam had told her one night while the two of them were preparing dinner for the three girls—Sam's family recipe of rib stew.

"I don't think so. I think he means it. I know he does. I know he loves me," Alli had argued to her friend while chopping up celery sticks to throw into the broth that was boiling in the crock-pot.

"And the Nile is a river in Egypt, honey," Sam told her darkly, but Alli just shook her head. Sam decided to bring up an old, but favorite, topic to the girl while they played in the kitchen.

"What would happen if it was Criss Angel instead of Julian who surprised you after class with those roses and chocolates?" she asked her friend, who secretly smiled and tilted her rain eyes up at the lovely bouquet resting in the blue glass vase on the counter, filled to the rim with water.

"I don't know. It depends if I was still with Julian or not," she replied.

"No, you can't play that card, Alli. Tell me the truth, tell me what is on your mind, what you want to do to that gorgeous magician," Sam clicked the edge of her knife against the chopping board, and the two girls grinned at each other. Sam should've known better that despite Alli's knowledge of the sexual world, she honestly didn't know what she would do, as she was still a virgin of innocence.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know."

"Kind of figured. You are such a virgin!"

"And proud of it!"

The three girls sat down for dinner that night and ate peacefully, the adults watching the child trying to attempt to make her stuffed kitty disappear under the table cloth, and Alli made a show of performing the trick for Sophia, hiding the kitty under the table cloth in front of her, and then pulling it out and under the table when the little girl wasn't looking. After dinner, Sophia pleaded with Alli to watch a television show, and she ended up giving into it, allowing the girl to go into the living room to turn the TV on while the two of them cleared the table.

"You should show Sophia the card trick you used to do back in Middle School?" Sam suggested.

"You think?" Alli went into her room quickly to grab a deck of cards, slip it into her pocket, and then come back out to the living room. Sophia was watching a personal favorite cartoon of Sam's and Alli's, "Invader Zim," when the two of them joined her on the couch to watch.

"After this I want to watch 'The Soup'," Sam sounded like a little child, practically fighting with someone who was thirteen years younger than her over what television show to watch.

"No, I want to watch 'South Park' after this!" Alli pouted her bottom lip—practically teaching Sophia to do this trick.

"I want to watch 'Zoey 101'!" Sophia argued.

"I want to watch 'The Soup'," Sam replied.

"I have an idea. Here, let me see."

Alli took the remote out of Sophia's hand—being given the same pouting look that she had just given to them from the little girl—and leaned over, pressing the "channel up" button on the remote, the channels flashing before the screen until she at last stopped when a black screen came on with words written in white words appeared on the screen with a red "WARNING" above them.

"The stunts and illusions performed on this program were designed and tested by Criss Angel, a highly-trained professional. These demonstrations are extremely dangerous and should not be attempted by anyone, anywhere, at any time."

The screen suddenly faded, but in its place was a scene of a beautiful desert at a dark, omniscient sunset, a hole in the middle of the sand burning with fire, the orange flames lapping at a sheet of paper written with black, faint ink that read "MINDFREAK:\Mind freak\ h 1: a modern day mystifier who utilizes skills beyond the category of magic. 2. The result of something incomprehensible. 3.Supernatural, 4: Criss Angel." while a woman began chanting a faint, eerie tone of "Tonight only, tonight only."

At once the desert erupted into an explosion, a figure leaping out from the crater, shadows dancing across them as the light of it swept across them, showing their identity to the camera. From their arms flew a flock of lovely white doves into the air, and the camera approached the man to show his face, the long dark hair that cast shadows across his face, the burning dark eyes that showed the true mystery and darkness of the opening scene as a hard rock song began to play as the theme.

"I am the Mindfreak! Mindfreak! There's no reality! Just this world of illusion that keeps on turning me! I am the Mindfreak! Mindfreak!"

"Oh, my God!" Sam's voice was faint and distorted through the sound of the theme, but Alli couldn't take her eyes off of the screen, watching as mirrors flew up from the desert ground, showing scenes of the man performing stunts—walking on water, levitating off the top of the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas, being dragged violently by a racecar through a sandy obstacle course, the man being ran over by a steamroller, (Alli's stomach churned violently at the sight of that)—and then it went back to the man who lifted a cape from the ground and outstretched it across his arms, only to drop it to reveal five people standing behind him, two little boys, an older man, a beautiful woman, and a little older woman. The camera retrieved a close-up of the man's right eye, which turned into a clock whose hands were spinning wildly into a white screen showing the people behind him in a collage of pictures. Finally, the scene broke to show the man screaming the name of the show at the camera four times for the name of the show to appear across the screen in front of his face, and then at last stopped with a close-up of his face speaking to the camera, "Are you ready?"

"Wow," it was all Sam could say, while Sophia was giggling excitedly between the two women, crawling off the couch, only to take a seat in front of the television to watch it better. It was out of Alli's motherly-instincts to correct the child's actions.

"Pretty Sophie, don't sit so close to the TV. You'll hurt your eyes," she told her, and the little girl scooted back by only a foot or so. Alli could only say that for the moment, after having seen the very opening of the television show she had just learned was made and starred the man she had just met these past two days. She bit her bottom lip hard—the image of the steamroller driving over him was fresh and clear—and she bowed her head, the voices and sounds of the television show playing loud in the apartment.

"I am so glad you changed the channel!" Sam told her playfully, but she was too shocked at the moment to come up with a response to her friend. She merely nodded, and sat there for a moment in silence while her roommate and cousin continued to watch the show. No more than ten minutes had passed when the show cut to commercial, and a loud, rattling knock came to the apartment front door. Both adults looked at each other, knowing that neither one had been planning on inviting anyone over that night.

"You weren't expecting anyone, were you?" Alli asked of her friend, knowing her habit of inviting men over late at night. But the sincere look in her eyes and the shake of her head answered her question. Alli got up from the couch, and went over to the door just to look out through the peephole.

A familiar face beamed at her from the other side of the door, the dark skin, the dark hair, the dark—threatening—eyes. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, as this man hardly ever came over to the apartment, and usually when he did, it always resulted in something happening that she didn't want Sophia exposed to. But, she couldn't just leave him outside and pretend he's not there. That would lead to even more confrontation and problems, and usually it would be worse than what she would plan. She swallowed her anxiety—her side hurting from this action—and opened the door to find her boyfriend standing there, smiling proudly at her.

"Hey, baby, thought I'd drop by and see you!" Julian beamed at her, and she faked a smile, putting on the mask of happiness and joy that she was used to showing to so many people.

"Hey. Would you...would you like to come in?" Sam is so going to kill me, she thought to herself. But it was on instinct, pure initiative nature, that she allowed him into the house. Julian looked from his beloved to the red head sitting on the couch, who quickly looked up to give him a surprise, yet hateful glare from those brown eyes of hers. He then looked at Sophia who was sitting on the floor, watching the television show, ""

"Julian, what are you doing here?" Sam asked of the man, who grinned sadistically at her, as if he didn't care what she was going to say or what she was thinking of him at the moment. It wasn't like he ever did.

"A boy can't come over and see his babe every once in a while?" Julian mocked her, but the friendly, playfulness that was once on Sam's face quickly dissipated into a flame of restrained furry and hate for him. Luckily, Sophia was too busy watching the show to see this. Yet, when Alli joined them in the living room, the air was so tense, she could easily see the line of breakage if she cut it with a butter knife. Julian turned to her, smiling after seeing an empty box of chocolate candies on the nightstand. "I'm glad you liked them. That box cost me ten dollars, you know."

"Thank you," Alli was hesitant to say anything else to him, nervous and uneasy to speak of anything to this man. She didn't want him here, point-blank! This man always caused situations to rise up and result in her going to bed early, tears streaming down her face from pain and terror. She didn't want Sophia exposed to that lifestyle, she didn't want her little cousin to be harmed physically, mentally, or emotionally. Around him, though, that was nearly impossible.

"So, where were you this past weekend? You didn't call me, or anything," Julian's voice brought her out of her thoughts of taking the child out of this apartment and somewhere safe for her. She looked up into him, but Sam could already see heart-breaking emotions form in her rain gray eyes.

"I'm sorry, I've just been busy," she told him quietly, her hands trembling at her side from fear. She tried to make herself think of something that would make her less nervous, but not even the thought of how he brought her roses and candy could make this shaking tension fade away from her.

"Too busy to call me? That sounds a little fake, don't you think, babe?" he asked of her, those dark eyes of his stiffening and hardening, becoming colder and sharper in only a brief of a second.

"I'm sorry. With school and everything, I didn't have time to call you. I'm sorry," Alli apologized quickly, but she knew that he never heard her apologies, he never heard anything he said. Then he spoke something that made me wish that the little girl wasn't in the room.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, bitch. Who were you with?"

Alli looked into her boyfriend's eyes, feeling that cold, shivering sensation of fear strum through her, taking hold of her, and filling her to the rim with terror. Sophia—out of instinct of correcting any curse word she heard—turned her head to see the man approach her cousin, and in those soft emerald eyes was a look of surprise, and shock, but in a bad way. Something that Alli hoped she would never see in the child's face.

"What? I wasn't with anyone. I swear!" Alli tried to defend herself.

"Stop lying to me! You were with someone! You always call me! You're supposed to!" Julian's voice was rising, threatening, and Alli was shaking physically with anxiety and fear that something horrible was about to happen.

"Hold up! She's not supposed to do anything!" Sam jumped to her feet, but Julian turned on his heel to face the woman.

"Keep out of this, Sam! This doesn't concern you!" he bellowed at her, and Alli looked down to see Sophia's eyes were filling with tears of horror and fear. Alli met Sam's brown eyes, and neither one of them had to say anything. Sam leaned down to the child and touched her shoulder gently.

"Come on, Sophia, it's your bedtime," Sam told her sweetly, but Sophia was pulling away, keeping her fear-filled emerald green eyes on her older cousin.

"No, I want to stay!" she argued against her.

"Sophia, come on. This is grown-up stuff!" Sam told her, trying to maintain her sweet, soft voice while trying to pull the child to her feet and drag her to her room. She succeeded in getting the girl to her feet, but she kept on fighting and trying to get out of her grasp as she was being pulled towards the hallway.

"No! No! I'm staying!"

"Sophia!"

Silence filled the apartment, the air was tense and still. The two girls in the hallway looked at the college student standing in the living room, her head bowed, her strawberry blond hair falling in front of her face. She hardly ever called the child by anything but her nickname given to her from her, but even if she did, her voice had never risen to such great heights and measures, as if yelling at the child for disobeying her. The little girl's eyes filled with even more tears, but she no longer fought against the woman's hold on her wrist.

"Allison...Alli...?" the child's voice sounded almost like a whimper. It was a heart-breaking sound, tearing at every inch of the woman's heart until there was nothing left, but the main thing on her mind was to keep her out of the room, to keep her innocence and purity alive and well. She had never yelled at this child before, she had never spoken harshly to her, but if it meant keeping her away from this twisted reality, then so be it.

"Go to bed, Sophia," she told her coldly, but she didn't dare look up for fear of seeing those emerald eyes show nothing but pain and fear of seeing only a fraction of the cruel world that she had been shielded from.

Sam dragged the mute Sophia into the hallway, and the two of them disappeared into the bedroom, where she was safe from the darkness and horror that Alli had been trying to keep her from. Once knowing that the little girl was no longer exposed to it, she turned her gray eyes onto the man, trying to keep her calm and collected—brave—composure, but inside, she was shaking and trembling like nothing before. She knew what was coming, there was no avoiding it, but at least the innocent didn't have to bare witness to it.

"I haven't been with anyone, Julian. I've just been busy lately. My schoolwork has been getting harder, my life is getting more complicated. I was planning on calling you yesterday, after I got back, but your phone was busy," she quickly explained herself, though trying to keep out the fact that she had gone out yesterday to a magic show with her friends and hoping that the topic of the man she has been secretly admiring wouldn't come up. Only Sam knew about it, but poor little Sophia knew nothing about secrecy or importance in keeping certain things to herself, one reason—though minor in her real motives—Alli told her to go to bed.

"Don't give me that bullshit, bitch! You're lying to me!"

It was horrible—yet, not unfamiliar—sensation to have been the back of someone's hand strike her across the face so hard that the pain would resonate from her cheek to her entire body and succumb her entirely. It was frightening, but not surprising. She didn't fall…not yet. She was still on her feet, stumbling, but quite fine. The moment the hand had touched her, her rain gray eyes had flown down towards the ground and the room around her blurred into a spiraling darkness that came over her, dancing crazily on the horizon of her consciousness. She felt that pain run through her veins, a striking sting that seemed to feel as if a python's fangs had claimed shelter within her jaw line and the venom was just as sharp and hot, flowing through her. She closed her eyes—can't lose consciousness, not now—and she opened them again, feeling that sensation run through her violently, quickly, but not so to where it will take hold of her completely. She was trying so very hard to keep her mind from spinning wildly into the shadows—the tempting, dancing, seducing shadows—and keep herself well awake and conscious just to live through this moment. She grabbed hold of the edge of the lamp-stand, keeping herself up and steady, trying to stumble back onto her two feet again.

"You're a filthy, disgusting liar! Tell me! Tell me now! Who were you with, you stupid whore?!"

A whimper—not even that, the sound a poor, defenseless animal would make when having its ribs kicked in by a sadistic, merciless, Satan-possessed child—escape the woman's lips as something hard—something black and metal—tried to crush itself against the side of her head, and she couldn't keep herself standing for much longer. The blackness in her head was growing denser, deeper, and soon it was starting to consume about a third of her sight, while another third was consumed by flashing lights that went off in front of her gray eyes. Her teeth clenched in her mouth, the venomous pain that was on her face suddenly growing into deep, electric stabs of knives across her face, her head, and into her veins. The bruise had been reborn, and her body shook under her weight, but her grip on the lamp-stand—although growing weaker—kept her on her feet. She tried to speak up, but she felt something hot…something new crawl down the side of her jaw, tickling across her ear as it wept. It was her tears, as she knew she wasn't crying. It was something else.

"I…I wasn't…please…" her voice came out in a way that was not hers, a voice that was so soft, barely able to be heard, yet it was there, and within it were emotions, feelings, and sounds that no human could ever make. It was a sweet, heart-wrenching sound, filled with so much pain, so much terror, so much anger, yet the anger was masked by all these sorrowful and choking feelings. Something hot burned in her throat, plaguing it, filling it, and it sputtered out from between her lips, spotting the floor beneath her. Yet, despite all this pain and agony, it was what happened next that was probably the worst pain of all.

"SHUT UP YOU FILTHY FUCKING WHORE!"

"AH!!"

It was that sound alone…that loud, gentle, yet terrorized sound that filled the woman with so much more pain, so much grief and sorrow, so much agony and horror, that even when she fell to the ground, the soreness heightening itself to a hundred fold, nothing was compared to the anguish she felt while lying there on the carpet, her face pressed against the floor, yet through the blinding lights and alluring darkness did she see a little girl standing in the hallway, her long ebony hair clung to her frail body, her emerald green eyes large pools of watery, fearful pain and horror, her fare face flushed of any color, nothing but the whiteness of a spirit who had just witnessed the recreation of their own death. The woman stared at the child, her body tingling from the horror that had just suddenly struck her, and reality—the cruel, horrible, sick, sadistic world that she had tried to keep the child from—came crashing into her…hard. She felt all reality, all fantasy, all imaginary, suddenly swerve into themselves and fold and bend at a twisted, bone-crushing way, the world spun violently around her, and all she could see through the lights and darkness was the child's eyes, swimming with tears of horror and suffering as she watched her beloved cousin be beaten and harmed purposely by the man she believed to have loved her.

Sophia…I love you….

"Julian! Julian, get the fuck out of here before I call the police!"

It was as if that voice from the darkness had brought forth a relief upon her, and she couldn't resist it anymore, she couldn't help it. She found that the lights had faded, the darkness was consuming her sight, and she felt the cold numbness of the pain crawl over her in a sweeping blanket, forcing her to see the child's eyes just before it blinded her from the world around her. She became deaf, mute, blind…and numb to the world around, dead to reality….

"Alli…."

It's only a dream…it can't be real….

"Alli…wake up…."

You can't be here….You just can't be….

"Wake up, Allison….Please, wake up..."

The woman opened her rain gray eyes, and the blur of shadows before her sight suddenly drifted slowly away. The shadows were dancing, playing in her eye sight, and it wasn't until a moment later that light started to erase them away, and she found herself lying on her back, staring up into a whiteness above her head, her ears deaf and her throat mute of any sound or any feeling that was waiting to come from inside her. She laid, there, waiting, looking, searching for something, wondering many thoughts that raced in her mind—Am I in heaven? Am I dead now?—until her eyes focused, and several other colorful objects came into clear sight—a white, glittered snowflake hanging from the corner of the ceiling, a photograph of the woman and a lovely little girl hanging on a wall across the room—and she tried to lift her head, but the moment she did, a searing, hot pain erupted from within her head, and it flowed down to her neck. She hissed out of agony, and then she felt someone come up beside her, lifting her head up gently with one hand. She looked up, opening her eyes more so that the shadows completely faded away, and she saw a woman leaning over her, her dark red hair flowing forward past her shoulders and her brown eyes—sad, fearful oak brown eyes—were filled with tears that had streamed down her cheeks and marking them with sorrowful lines that only meant she had been mourning. The woman lying on her back in pain looked up at her, her best friend, and felt droplets of tears fall from those eyes onto her forehead. The red haired woman sobbed gently, trying to speak as she held her head, but her words were distorted and choked from the sorrow that had filled her.

"Sam..." the woman on the floor murmured her name softly, and she tried to sit up, trying to ignore and push the agonizing pain in her head away and try to erase it completely through her will. It was a difficult task to do, but by doing so, she was able to sit up completely and turn to face her friend, who was still sobbing uncontrollably.

"Sam...how...where...How long was I out?" she quickly asked her friend, feeling a sudden sensation of guilt, shame, and grief flow through her. She felt incredibly awful at the situation that she had left lying at her best friend's feet, having to chase her "boyfriend" out of the house, and then dealing with a traumatized child that had just bared witness to something she had been trying to keep her away from. This was her fault, all this was her fault, and she couldn't help but feel her stomach twist, knot, and stretch in disgusting ways from these feelings that were coursing through her.

Her friend tried to calm down, choking on her own tears and sorrow, coughing and hiccoughing and swallowing those tears down her throat and trying to relax her pounding, terrorized heart. The other woman held a towel in her hand—soaking wet—and she couldn't resist but covering her face with it. She sobbed for a few moments into the cloth, and as the moment went on, her crying became softer, quieter, and then finally, she pulled her head out of the cloth to look up at the other woman, tears still falling from her eyes, but no longer hysterical.

"About...about an hour..." she told her, practically choking on her words as she spoke. The younger woman looked surprised that she was unconscious for such a long time, but the pain in her head and body told her that it was to be expected after what had happened to her just now—which she could hardly remember. Alli looked around, seeing that the sky outside the apartment windows has grown darker—almost omniscient dark, knowing what had happened and turning the appropriate shade of ebony just to fit the circumstance—and the electric clock hanging on the wall in the hallway read the time in bold, neon green numbers. 10:15 p.m.

Alli got to her feet—her body feeling dizzy and her head spinning due to the pain—and she walked over towards the hallway, practically stumbling over her own two feet to get to the bathroom. She clutched the edge of the sink in the darkness, keeping herself steady, and her body nearly fell into the porcelain bowl, queasiness succumbing her and crawling over her mind. She bit her bottom lip vigorously, reaching over to turn the light on in the enclosed room. The moment she flipped the switch, the room filled with the light yellow brightness, and her gray eyes crossed onto the mirror across from her, in front of her, and in the light she could see just what the after result was of the past incident. There was a faint, hidden contusion on the side of her face, throbbing painfully as the warm light caressed it, barely visible through the curtain of strawberry blond hair that shielded it. Running from the top of her forehead to her chin was a long stream of red liquid, dried, but also smeared down along the way, as if someone had been trying to wash it off. She could see the splatter of dried fluid on her bottom lip, half of it from her having the terrible habit of biting on it, and the other from the moments before. She didn't look half as bad as she thought she would have—note the sarcasm—but not so much as to where people will instantly notice her wounds and start asking questions. She took a washcloth from the bathtub and ran it under cold water from the sink. She started dabbing and removing the now dried crimson from her face, cleaning up as much of the wound as possible, and then removing it from her mouth. After that she cleansed the contusion at her jaw line, and then hid it behind her fallen hair. After about ten minutes of trying to hide the injuries she had obtained from the man she believed to have cared about her, she finally left the bathing chamber, turning the light out, and went to find her friend still on her knees in the living room, no longer crying, but still shaking from fear.

"Where...where is Sophia?" Alli asked the other woman softly, the pain in her head aggravating her to the point of nausea.

"She...went into her room. She was crying for a long time. I think she passed out because of it," Sam answered her, still choking on her sobs, but was still able to be heard despite it. Alli didn't feel like speaking, she didn't feel like explaining herself to anyone or what had happened in any sort of way. She turned on her heel and went straight back into the hallway, approaching the child's bedroom door, and noticing that it was open ajar. She pushed it open, allowing the light of the living room stream into the chambers.

It was sort of ironic to say that a child's bedroom was actually a lot cleaner than an adult's bedroom, but Sophia was a special case. Compared to Sam's room, a dumpster would be cleaner. Yet, Sophia's room was especially clean and tidy, there never was any toys or clothes on the floor, there never was any speck of dirt or dust on the dresser, desk, or toy boxes that she had stacked up neatly and perfectly against the wall. Her closet was always carefully and meticulously set up to where it showed her multiple outfits hanging—color-coordinated, mind you—from white metal hangers, and her bed—the twin-size princess bed that she had brought with her from her mother's house—was always made, never once out of shape or the pillows put in the wrong place. For a child of eight years, this was an extremely rare thing to behold. Alli's gray eyes scanned the room, adjusting to the shadows that stretched over it, and then fell on the lump lying under the covers in the bed. The lump was moving—throbbing like a beating, grieving heart—and Alli approached it cautiously, her heart pounding as brief images of the last moment came flying into her mind, playing and replaying over and over again, and her stomach gave another painful jerk as she remembered seeing the child's eyes—those sweet, innocent green eyes—fill with horrified tears, tears that no child should ever have to shed. Yet, Sophia did, and it was because of her. It was because of Alli, her older cousin, the one who was supposed to take care of her, that Sophia had been exposed to such a dreadful and horrible world. It was because of her, and, despite how hard she had been trying to keep the child from reality, she couldn't have predicted that this would happen, and now, because it has, she has to figure out a way to fix it. But what? What could she do to fix something that was so traumatizing to this young innocent life?

I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry...

Alli brushed against the child's face, feeling the running tears slip off into her hand, yet the face was soon concealed behind a curtain of ebony hair. She felt the child's warm cheeks suddenly fade into clamminess under her touch, and she realized that it was because of her cold touch that it did. Pulling her hand away, she turned away from the bed and sulked out of the room, her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jeans. The moment she closed the door behind her and walked out into the hallway, she found herself being faced by her best friend, Sam, who had recollected her composure, her eyes had dried, and she was no longer choking or sobbing, but rather held about her a stance of complete seriousness and hardness that made it almost too sharp to look at.

"What are you going to do about this?" Sam asked of her, and Alli merely shrugged, walking past her into the living room. The woman followed her and continued to ask the same question over and over again until she at last answered. "What are you going to do? Alli, how are you going to be able to handle this?"

"I don't know!" the anger, the rage, the hate, the grief, the pain, it was all rising up inside her, and she was despising every moment that went by that she didn't know how she was going to be able to solve this problem. Her mind was torn in two directions, one side agreeing with Sam and desiring, more than anything, to break every ounce of the relationship she had with Julian off and even call the cops on him, and the other side was opposed to it, crying and weeping in a corner, creating excuses that were unbelievable, yet somehow believable to herself. She couldn't leave him, she loved him, but she couldn't risk getting hurt again, or worse...exposing Sophia to anymore of this. She was her older cousin, her caretaker, her guardian...she was his girlfriend, his lover. How could she choose between the two of them?

The answer should be simple...

But it wasn't. Not at this moment, it wasn't. She had to decide, though, who was more important to her. And that question was easy to answer, she didn't have to think, she just had to feel the answer run through her and then speak or act on it. There was no thinking involved.

"I can't have Sophia exposed to this again. I just can't," she told her friend, falling into the couch gently, trying to think clearly. Her friend sat beside her, yet Sam didn't hold her, didn't touch her, as she knew that no matter how much comfort she would try to give, nothing could help her in this situation. All she could do was hope that what Alli decided would not only go her way, but would also have the child as the first thought in mind.

"Are you going to break it off with him?" Sam opened her mouth more to add something, but she knew that the decision the younger woman was about to make wasn't allowed to have any influence put onto it by her or anyone else. Alli had to make this decision on her own, without anyone's help.

"I don't know," the girl shook her head, bowing it forward as to where her hair fell into a curtain, hiding her face, hiding her bruises, hiding her eyes from the world around. She had to clear her mind, she had to go somewhere where she could think rationally and logically, but there was no place like that anywhere on this earth. What she needed was an escape, a doorway, somewhere that she would be able to free, just for a moment, and be able to decide on what she needed to do.

An escape for freedom from this reality...

A sound came from the kitchen. It was a faint sound, but it was loud enough to be heard from the living room. It was like a song had just turned on, repeating the chorus cheerfully over and over again, a chorus from a song that Alli and Sam knew all too well.

"I can't waste time, so give me the moment. I realize nothing's broken. No need to worry about everything I've done. I live every second like it was my last one. Don't look back, got a new direction. I loved you once, I needed protection. You're still a part of everything I do. You're on my heart, just like a tattoo…."

It was Alli's ringtone having gone off because someone was calling her cell-phone—which had been forgotten about in the kitchen while they were preparing dinner—and the two girls looked at each other, worry and curiosity running through both of them.

"What if it's him again?" Sam asked her. Alli shook her head.

"No, that's not his tone. I have…I have 'Buttons' set for him." Sam gave her a weird look, knowing that "Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls was an incredibly mature and sexy song, one that many people would never believe in a million years that this girl—this sweet, sexually shy girl—would program her phone to play that song for her twisted and abusive boyfriend.

"So, whose tone is that?" Sam asked as the phone rang for its second time. This time, the other woman had got up from her seat on the couch and walked quickly to the kitchen where she found her phone. She looked at the screen, and saw a number flashing that she didn't recognize, one that wasn't programmed into it.

"I don't know this number. Hold on," she quickly told her phone. Taking a deep breath, she flipped the phone open and put to her ear, trying to hide the pain that was still coursing through her.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is Alli there?"

It was a voice on the other line that sounded both unfamiliar and familiar all at once. Her heart was pounding viciously in her chest, the pain in her body suddenly vanishing into a hot, burning nervousness that seemed to take over her completely. The pain suddenly vanished from her, as if it wasn't there. A part of her actually forgot what had happened to her, and a part of her seemed to have forgotten about Julian completely—whose Julian again?

"Um…this is she." She sounded like a choking frog trying to speak into the phone as every part of her was hoping, praying, wishing that it was the very person she suspected it to be.

"Hey, Alli, it's Christopher."

Sam had at once seen the blushing face, the widened eyes—did she also hear the pounding, racing heartbeat that seemed to echo off the walls of the apartment?—from the living room and at once ran up to her friend, preparing herself to catch her if Alli suddenly became weak or unstable. At first, there was a troubled expression on her face, but then that expression turned into one of happiness and joy as she instantly read everything in those gray eyes.

"Hey. How are you?" sound cool, don't sound so silly, try to relax, keep your mind focused and clear, don't sound like some stupid, crazed fan girl!

"I'm good, I'm good. Listen, Alli, I was wondering something," Criss Angel's voice sounded completely different over the phone, yet at the same time, so familiar, and just as comforting to the woman. She felt her heart calm down a little, but not entirely.

"What?" Alli sounded better now, and Sam was even giving her an interested look, a look that she only gave when she hears something or sees something that she feels should be world-wide news—usually it's something worth gossiping, much more important than your mom cheating on your father with the neighborhood underage paperboy who already happens to have a pregnant girlfriend.

"Could you meet me somewhere? Like at that one club, 'Innocence' in a half-hour or so?" Christopher asked her, and Alli felt her once calm heart go skyrocketing through her chest. Sam apparently had heard his question through the phone, as those brown eyes widened from excitement. All of a sudden, though, that brief moment of amnesia from the past two hours seemed to come crashing back into her, and she bit her lip—hard—from her anxiety and fear of actually going out somewhere with another man.

"Um…I don't know, Christopher, it's really late, and—"

"Give me that!"

"Hey!"

Sam snatched the phone out of her hands quickly, far faster than she could react to, and the moment it came crashing into the strawberry blond what her friend had done, the older woman was already talking into the other line, giving her answer for her.

"Criss, she'll be there! Ciao!" And with that, Sam hung up the phone, but ended up being glared at in a threatening, murderous manner. Sam only grinned at her, while Alli was close to pouncing on her and strangling the living daylights out of her.

"You have got to stop doing that!" she yelled at her friend, snatching her phone back. Sam only continued to smile at her playfully—cunning little bitch, isn't she?

"No, not until you learn to say what you need to say when you need to say it," that glare that was being given to her was not going to go away any time soon. "I know you wanted to say yes. If it wasn't for that fucker Julian you would already be with him. You're going, and you better go get ready now. You don't want to be late."

"I'm not going."

"What?!" Sam looked at her friend, shocked and surprised, that someone could actually turn down a date with the attractive, mysterious, charming, attractive, strong—not to mention attractive—Criss Angel!

"I'm not going. I can't." Alli sounded so distant when she spoke that, as if her mind and soul weren't really there, and she was speaking those words almost mechanically. Had someone programmed her to say those hated three words when Sam wasn't looking?

"What do you mean you can't?" she asked her friend in response, shocked that she had even said anything so illogical.

"I can't leave Sophia here. I mean, I have to be here in the morning when she wakes up. I have to come up with some way of explaining what happened to her, and I have to figure out what I'm going to do about this situation," Alli felt all the grief and pain suddenly rise up back inside her, but Sam was shaking her head, the playful grin still existing on her lips.

"Don't worry about Sophia. I'll stay here and I'm sure you'll be back before she even wakes up. You can handle the situation tomorrow, and besides, you're going to 'Innocence.' You've always wanted to be there, ever since we were freshmen in high school. Now you have your chance to go, so GO!" Sam shook her shoulders kindly, and the two of them couldn't help but laugh. It was relaxing to be able to laugh, to allow this burden to rise up out of her, and to suddenly be free of any stress or pain. After a brief second of suddenly realizing what good it might actually do for her, she gave into that fan girl side of herself, and agreed.

"Alright, Sam, you're right. I'll go. Just make sure she's safe," Alli nodded towards the hallway, and her best friend's smile broadened, widened, and seem to fill her with that strong warmth that only a couple of people on this entire planet have been able to give her.

"She'll be safe. Go have a good time! Freshen up first, though!"

Alli smiled as she embraced her friend lovingly, and then the two girls parted—Sam had to slip in a "go fuck him" comment that Alli had to glare at—Sam went to her room, and Alli went into the bathroom to apply some mascara, fix her hair, and grab a tube of lip-gloss—her favorite lip-gloss, raspberry and vanilla—that she stuffed into her pocket, quickly grabbed her cell-phone from the kitchen, and then slipped out of the apartment silently, calling a cab as she went out into the street.

She couldn't believe that this opportunity had come, and at the perfect time. Although she wasn't ridden of her problem, it was nice to suddenly be taken away from the insanity and suffering of this night, and into a world that she knew was only made for her. In this world, in this sub-reality, there was no such thing as painful relationships, there never was a man named Julian that haunted her life, and in this world, she was innocent of all impurities, innocent of all sins, given a second chance, a second life. She wasn't free yet, but at least she was given a chance to be numb from it all, numb from the pain, numb from the sorrow…numb from this sick little twisted world that she was trapped in. All given from an angel above….