Chapter 5

July 1989

Rose Vaughn teased her long red hair more, and lined her eyes with more heavy make-up. Today was her 21st birthday, and she was determined to have some fun. Her three daughters, Violet, Daisy and Lilly were being watched by the neighborhood sitter. Rose gave the teenage girl a wad of cash to order a pizza and gave them instructions to have them all in bed by 9.

Then she left.

Lola Harrison was just 17 years old, and she too, had a son who was almost three years old and was currently pregnant again with her second child. Violet was just a year older than her son, Brock, while Daisy was just getting out of Diapers and Lilly was barely even able to talk yet.

She sat down on the couch and flipped on the cartoons, sitting Brock and Violet on the floral printed, brown couch, while she helped Daisy use the bathroom.

"Are you guys hungry?" She asked, and Brock leaned over the side of the couch, nodding his head vigorously.

"Ice cream!" He yelled out, and Violet stood up, jumping on the couch, making Brock bounce up and down with her every movement.

"Yea! Ice cream!" She agreed.

"No Ice cream," Lola said, shaking her head. "How about pizza? You guys like pizza. Don't you, Brock?"

"Yea!" He cheered and turned back to the television where He-man was on television. Violet rolled her eyes.

"I wanna watch the smurfs!" She whined, and snatched the remote from Brock's hands.

"No, smurfs are stupid! Like you! Stupid girl!" He reached for the remote, but Violet held it just out of his reach.

"I'm older than you so you have to do what I say," she grinned, and he plopped back down on his butt, pouting. He heard his mother come back into the room and he looked at her from around the corner of the couch.

"Mommy, Violet won't let me watch He-man!" He whined, and Lola walked over to him, kissing him on the forehead.

"Now, Brock, you know you are always supposed to let ladies have their choice first. You can watch he-man after Violet's show. I've got it taping at home for you," she rubbed his back comfortingly, and he sat back against the couch, rolling his eyes as the Smurf's theme song played on the television in front of them.

The humid Cerulean Air in mid-july was brutal, and it seemed to have let all the cold air out of the house as she opened the door to receieve the pizza. She picked up Lilly from her crib and sat her in a highchair before setting to work getting a slice of pizza for Violet, Lilly and Brock, plus three cups of kool-aid.

Then she warmed up a jar of baby food for Lilly, and picked up a plastic spoon, scooping the mashed mangos into her mouth.

"I hope you're having a boy," Brock said, pointing to his mother's protruding belly. Even at 6 months pregnant, she was showing. "I've had enough of these girls and their water Pokemon everywhere. When are we going back to Pewter City to see Daddy?"

Lola shot him a look.

"You will see your daddy soon," she promised him, scooping another spoonful into Lilly's mouth.

Brock sighed and looked over at Violet who was reaching for another piece of pizza. "Don't eat all of it!"

"Brock Harrison!" Lola scolded him. "There is plenty for all of you. Now, don't be a hog!"

Brock cowered and looked up at her. "But Mommy, I just wanted to make sure there was enough for you."

Lola's face softened and she smiled at him. "Oh, Sweetheart, there is plenty for everyone. I'll get a piece or two after I finish feeding Lilly. Don't worry about me."

Brock felt guilty as he reached for another piece of pizza. Violet giggled and stuck her tongue out at him.

"When I grow up and get married, it's not going to be to a stupid water Pokemon trainer like you!" Brock glared at the older girl and took a bite of his pizza.

"Brock!" He heard his mother's voice scold him again. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with water Pokemon trainers! And if you don't start being nicer to girls, you won't get married at all. Now you wouldn't like that would you?"

"As long as she's a water Pokemon trainer, I wouldn't want anything to do with her!" Brock shook his head.

...

Lola cleaned up the kitchen and put on a movie for the kids, even one that Brock would enjoy. The Fox and The Hound. Brock had always loved that movie. She saw as the clock approached 10 P.M. and she realized that the kids were not in bed, but then again, Rose was not home yet.

"Girls, it's time for bed," Lola announced. Daisy looked up at her, tears forming in her eyes.

"But...Mommy!" She started to cry and Lola picked her up, bouncing her lightly and soothing her.

"Shhh, Daisy, it's OK. Mommy will be home soon, OK?" She cooed softly, and she felt someone else clutch onto her leg. It was Brock, and he looked up at her sadly.

"I wanna watch The Fox and the Hound, Mommy!" He begged and Lola smiled down at him, sighing.

"I tell you what," she said, placing Daisy back down on the couch. "How about I get your sleeping bags down here and we all camp out and finish the movie, and then we can go to sleep, OK?"

"OK!" Brock agreed, excitedly.

Fifteen minutes later, Lola had turned the living room into a campground of sleeping bags. Lilly slept in her playpen, not interested at all in the movie. Violet and Daisy slept side by side, while Brock had situated himself next to his mother, who had made a bed for herself on the couch.

Just before the movie ended, all of the children were asleep and Lola felt her eyelids getting heavy. She switched off the television and plunged into darkness.

Brock wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but when he awoke, the room was totally dark. He smelled his mother's perfume above him, and he reached out, touching her nose, and then her hand and his panic slowly subsided. He laid back down in the sleeping bag his mother had retreived. It was Violet's old one, it had a Poliwag on it, and even though he hated it, he was too tired to refuse it.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he heard the front door click open and light from the streetlights outside poured in and sillhoutted the two figures that stepped through the door. He recognized one voice as Rose Vaughn, but the other one he didn't recognize. He watched as the two made their way into the kitchen and flipped on the light, illuminating the living room just enough where he could clearly see his mother now, but she didn't stir in her sleep.

He got up and snuck around the corner of the kitchen. He saw Rose Vaughn pressed against the counter, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with blond hair was kissing her. Now, he wasn't real sure why adults liked to mash their faces together so much, he had seen his Mom and Dad do that a lot, but they seemed to really enjoy doing it.

Fully awake now, he crept closer. He wanted to know why they were allowed to stay up so late, but his Mom had made him go to bed. He also wanted to know who the blond man was, and wanted to know if he wanted to play with his match-box cars, like his Mom did sometimes.

He smelled an unfamiliar smell when he neared them. It was a pungent smell and it burned his nostrils and he instictively backed away from it. Rose laughed louder and he ducked down quickly, startled by the sound, and when he did, he knocked out a pizza box that was stuffed in the trash.

It clattered on the floor, and the blond man and Rose stopped what they were doing and looked at him, as he crouched down on the floor. The look of anger that the blond man had on his face made Brock feel like a dear in headlights. He couldn't move. He desparately wanted to run back to the couch with his mother and cower in her arms, but he just sat there, looking up at the man stared down at him angrily.

Rose put her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing up?" She asked, but she didn't sound happy. She didn't pick him up and rock him like his mother always did when she caught him up in the middle of the night. She sounded mad, but not the kind of mad his mother always sounded when she was mad. It was a tone of voice that made him want to cry.

"Get your ass back in bed, Kid!" The man yelled, and pointed back to the living room. Brock shakily got to his feet, straightening out his batman pajamas. He didn't want to walk past the man to get to the living room, back to his mother, but that was the only way.

On shaky feet, Brock started to dart across the kitchen, but was snatched up by the man. His heart seemed to stop as he felt his clothes being tugged and he feet being lifted off the ground. He couldn't even scream. Then, with so much force that it knocked the air from him, he felt the man smack him with a loud skin on skin pop.

He repeated in three or four more times, and the scream that was boiling up in his throat finally came out in a loud wail.

Lola bolted up right on the couch, and for moment, she forgot where she was. She had thought Brock had woken up from a nightmare and was already out of bed, ready to go and comfort him, before she realized where she was. She was in Cerulean City, in Rose Vaughn's house and Brock was not next to her on the floor in his sleeping bag.

The light from the kitchen illuminated everything and she rounded the corner to find Brock, sitting on the kitchen floor, with his pants pulled down and his backside raw red. Tears streamed down his face as he wailed in pain, reaching out for her.

Anger welled up inside of her and she picked her son off of the floor, pulling his pajama shorts over his behind.

"What the hell is going on here?" She asked.

"He should be asleep," Rose said, lighting a cigarette.

"He got his ass-whooped because he was in here spying on us," he took a cigarette from Rose and lit it, blowing smoke towards Lola. "You want your boy to see two people fucking before he's three years old? Keep him in bed."

Lola glared at him, and if she wasn't holding Brock, who was still crying into her shoulder and clinging tightly to her, she would have hauled off and smacked him right in the face.

"You don't EVER, EVER touch my kids. I don't hit my children!" Lola screamed, letting her anger get the best of her. "I don't want complete strangers hitting my children, either! Rose, if you can't do better than this, then I am out of here. You will have to find yourself a new babysitter!"

Rose took another drag of her cigarette. "Fine. Then leave. Go back to Pewter City with your handsome gym leader boyfriend, and take your screaming kid with you. He's going to wake up my girls and I want to have sex tonight." She blew the smoke out of her nose and smiled at the man.

Rose gathered her purse from the door, and brought Brock out into the humid night air, put him in the backseat of her Chevrolet Celebrity. His screaming had calmed down and now he was fretting so bad, Lola was afraid he would stop breathing.

"Honey, calm down, OK? We're going back to see Daddy, OK?" She buckled him in tight and kissed his forehead. She got into the driver's seat and pulled out onto the street, headed straight for the highway that connected Cerulean to Pewter, and as she looked back in the rearview mirror, she knew, this time, she wasn't returning to Cerulean City.

...

Brock tucked the blanket around Fiona's shoulders, and Eevee took her space next to Fiona near the window. She looked up at her father, a sense of uneasiness in her eyes, and Brock pulled up a chair next to her bed and sat down.

"What's wrong, Sweety?" He asked, brushing her hair back from her face. "You feeling OK?"

She nodded, silently. Then looked at him with those blue green eyes she had gotten from her mother. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Princess?" He asked.

"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" She asked, innocently. Her eyes went towards her closet and Brock followed her gaze.

"Well, sure I can," he said, standing up and walking towards the closet. "Are you afraid your closet?"

"Sometimes I hear noises," she told him, feeling a shiver creep up her spine.

Brock reached for the doorhandle, and Fiona tensed up, fearing that whatever was in there would jump out. But she knew her father was strong and brave and could defeat any monster. But the closet was filled with nothing except her dresses, shoes, and some toys.

"See? Look, nothing there," he said, shutting the door again and sitting back next to her bed. Fiona sank down into her quilt, and Brock flicked on her nightlight. "Now, just go to sleep. You have your nightlight and Eevee. And I'll be here until you fall asleep."

Fiona closed her eyes, feeling safe in her father's presence.

"And Mommy and I are just across the hall," he reminded her, just like Misty did every night. But she remembered that horrible nightmare, or what she believed was a nightmare, when she couldn't get in there, to crawl in their bed and seek comfort.

Her tiredness eventually won out, and Brock stood up, quietly to exit the room, but just before he pulled the door open, he heard something. A bump, as if something had fallen in Fiona's closet. It was slight, so slight he was almost convinced he could have imagined it.

Almost.

...

Eve Castillo enjoyed her Sunday afternoons at the Coffee shop. She had dropped Holly off at her mother's house, rented a book from the library, and headed down the Pewter's Coffee and Tea shop, with free wi-fi and a quiet atmosphere.

As she read to the fifth chapter of the book, she wondered why she had chosen a romance novel. Why not a thriller? Or a supernatural plot? Hell, why not even go with non-fiction? Anything but romance.

But why had she picked it? And why did Piper Segal, the female star in this book, seem to look alot like herself, despite the author saying she was blond? And why did Jack McCoy, the hero of the book and Piper's love interest, resemble Brock Harrison? In her mind, this was just another fantasy playing out in her head, with the characters molding themselves into what she wanted most.

She put the book down half-way through the fifth chapter. Now, it was just getting depressing and she knew she probably wouldn't finish this book. The real love of her life, Holly's father, was dead, but the worst part of it was that Holly's father didn't die while they were together.

No, they had split up. She took a sip of her coffee and looked at the cover of her paperback romance novel,that was folded badly at the spine from the many years of use it got at the library. As her mind drifted, she felt as old and worn out as her forgotten book.

January 2007

Eve Castillo sat on the couch, reading a paperback novel. The windows were open, and she allowed the warm, gentle breeze off the coast of Valencia Island fill the house. She had been feeling sick all day long, and she figured she must have gotten the stomach bug, common in the winter time, but she had thought that the warm temperatures down here would ward off any flu epidemics.

It was nighttime, and she had let time get away from her again, absorbed in her novel, but when she finished chapter 16, she placed her book mark in her page and checked her cell phone for the time. It was past midnight...and he still wasn't home.

Where was he?

She stood up and went out on the porch, looking out as the ocean crashed against the sand, then retreated back out, and repeated again. The moon was light a spotlight and lit up everything almost as if it were daytime. The queasiness in her stomach started up again as she watched the water rock slightly to the rhythm of an approaching storm.

Then she saw a figure approaching the house and her queasiness gave way to fear, but then, relief. It was him. He was home!

Her fiance walked up the stairs, his black hair was stringy and wet, and he walked right by her without saying so much as a word.

"W-where have you been?" She asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. He sighed, letting his shoulders slump.

Why does she always have to nag? He asked himself. Turning around, his eyes blazed with anger and annoyance.

"I was just having some drinks with the guys, Eve!" He raised his voice and went to the fridge, popping open a beer and taking a swig. He spotted her book and laughed at the front cover, showing two lovers ripping at eachother's clothes in a fit of passion.

"Women shouldn't read. It gives them ideas," he said, and Eve furrowed her brow.

"I like to read!" She growled angrily.

"Maybe you should become a teacher or something," he said, mostly jokingly but Eve didn't think that was such a bad idea.

She went up to hug him, but he backed away.

"I'm covered with sea water, Babe," he headed towards the stairs. "I'm going to take a shower. Let my buzz calm down. Be up and in bed in 20 minutes." He winked at her, and Eve sighed. Why couldn't he be the like the men in the romance novels?

Without the distraction of his entrance, Eve's stomach started to twist again, and she went to the bathroom in the hallway. Resisiting the urge to wretch at the site of the open toilet, she pulled open a drawer and shuffled through it until she found it. An EPT.

Sitting down, the sensation of having to piss didn't take long, and she laid the sick flat on the kitchen sink. Almost immediately, a strong blue plus sign formed in the window and Eve felt dizzy, thinking she might actually throw up now.

The sensation passed, however, and she grabbed the stick, exiting the bathroom and making her way upstairs. Her fiance was just getting out of the shower, drying his chin-length dark hair with a towel. His eyes had cleared up a bit, that shower had done him some good, and she felt the panic she had felt when she first saw that plus sign slowly start to fade. Maybe...maybe he would OK with this.

He even smiled at her.

"Come here, Sexy," he pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips and she kissed him back, but pushed him away a moment later.

"Wait, honey, I...I have to tell you something," she said, and that's when he noticed her hands behind her back.

"What?" He asked.

She pulled the test out from behind her back and he stared at it. A plus sign. Positive. He was...he was going to be a dad? He was going to be a dad!

His eyes clouded over and Eve wasn't sure what his reaction would be now. Then, in an instant, her worse fears came to life.

"You're pregnant?" He asked. "What the fuck, Eve! I thought you were on the pill!"

"I am...I mean, I was...but... I haven't been able to afford them," she backed away from him and he pushed past her. "Where are you going?"

"If you think I'm going to be a daddy at 19 years old, you have another thing coming!" He grabbed a handful of clothes and his wallet. Then picked up his backpack at the door.

"Y-you're leaving me?" Eve asked, tears spilling out of her eyes.

"Get rid of it," he told her, shaking his head. "I don't want any kids. We've talked about this, Eve."

"Please don't leave me," she clung to him, but he shoved her off.

"Get off of me!" He screamed, pushing her back. "I'll pay for the abortion, but just get rid of the thing and don't ever talk to me again!" He slammed the door in her face. He stumbled out onto the beach, his toes sinking deep into the cool sand.

He walked for what felt like hours, but was probably only 15 minutes. He wanted to be as far away from Eve as possible. He had never, ever intended on getting her pregnant. He couldn't bring a child in on his income, which was practically nothing, and Eve didn't work because she was still in college. Hell, he hadn't even gotten the chance to go to college and study art like he wanted to.

The breeze carried a sound, and with it, a scent. A scent that immediately sparked something deep within him, arousing him so suddenly it took all the anger and worry away. The sound happened again, and he realized what it was. A woman, and from the sounds of it, she was having the best sex of her life.

He followed the sound and soon found the source of it. Two people. A petite girl, and a broad-shouldered guy, their skin shining in the moonlight. He was kissing her all over, touching her and making her make those sounds of pure ecstacy.

He readjusted his erection, which had popped up the moment he heard the girl's lustful sobs. He took out his binoculars to get a closer look. He could see the girl's face now. She wasn't just pretty, she was absolutely beautiful. Her long red hair clung to her shoulders with sweat, and he was sure it wasn't just from the humdity. He watched her throw her head back, as the guy who was ravishing her body, expertly played with her nipples and rubbed his hand between her legs.

He felt his own hard, stiff erection and began rubbing himself, never taking his eyes off the scene. He could see her breasts now. They were round, full, and perky. Her breathing became heavier, and when she reached orgasm, he couldn't help but let himself go to. He tried to keep quiet, then leaned against the tree, weak from his exertion. He zipped up his pants, and picked up his backpack that he carried everywhere with him.

Looking back over at the couple, he glared at the guy who was hovering above the beautiful girl. He seemed to be naturally tan, handsome, with spiked black hair and an overly confident laugh. But that's not who he was focused on. The beautiful redhead who was now shyly pulling back on her shorts, who was leaned against the guy now, as they shared more intimate kisses.

His eyes bore into her as he flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook and began to sketch her figure.

...

Eve had Holly 8 months after he had left and had raised her all by herself. Then when she had learned, he had died...no, he had been killed, she almost had lost her mind. She knew he didn't love her, but he was the father of her child, so she had always felt like she owed him something. His dignity, maybe. Or revenge.

Someone blocked her light and brought her out of her thoughts. A thin man, with thin features with a pointed nose stood next to her table, a cup of hot coffee in his hand.

"Excuse me?" He asked. "I'm sorry to bother you, are you Eve Castillo?"

She nodded, sort of vacantly, but then came to the realization of how strange it was to be asked that in the middle of the day at a coffee shop.

"I'm Dr. Warren Martin," the man said. "I'd like to talk to you about something. May I sit down?"

"Sure," she said, inviting him to sit down in the seat across from her. He smiled, and sat down, sipping the coffee he had just ordered.

"Normally, I wouldn't intrude like this," he began, letting out a small sigh. "But I feel like this is urgent, and you're really the only person that I feel obligated to tell this to."

Eve blinked in confusion. "Dr. Martin. I don't believe we've met." She said, thinking maybe this strange old man had the wrong person. Perhaps he was looking for someone else.

"We haven't," he replied, truthfully, and she could tell her was stalling, trying to formulate his words. He clasped his hands together and leaned across the table. "But I know you, or at least, I know who you are. You're Eve Castillo, Holly's mother."

"Is something wrong with Holly?" She asked, panic rising within her.

"No, No," Dr. Martin stated, holding up his hands in defense. "I've never met Holly. This is about...your fiance."

"F-fiance?" She asked. "I don't have...I mean, I did, but..."

He cut her off. "Just hear me out, Ms. Castillo. I'll explain everything."