We all were in the living room. Randy was pacing around the room trying to think. Louisa was sitting on the love seat closest to the TV. I was on the sofa. Louisa looked uncomfortable for a moment but after a moment she relaxed and comfortable where she sat. She pulled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. The jacket she was wearing went up just a little and I saw the faint bruises and faded scares. My heart jumped into my throat. She was indeed getting hurt at home and I was going to help her get out of it.

"Lou, how long have you been getting beating." I asked making her jump so high. I smiled lightly to her and mouthed 'sorry'.

She smiled back at me, "A while now," she looked down at her jacket and started to pull the sleeves down to cover her arms.

I stood up and knelled down in front of her. I put my hand on her arm and moved her sleeves up to get a good look at them. She had scares the size of cigars and a long scar going up her elbow that looked like it had staples or stitches in. She had a faint bruise on her forearm all around her small arm. She looked skinny, too skinny. I looked into her sparkling green eyes.

"What happened to you?"

She sighed and looked above me at Randy. "My step father has been abusing me for a long time."

"I get that, what has he done to you."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She looked away from my gaze. "No one ever does." She whispered.

"Listen, we will listen to everything you have to say. I will believe you, I promise. Just tell me what he has done to you."

She turned her head back to me. She had tears in her eyes. This must be very hard on her to finally be able to tell someone what she has went through. She let out a breath before she said anything.

"It started when I was 6. It was moms death day. We were going to the grave site. Dad was behind me and he shoved me hard. I fell on the tombstone in front of me, it was moms." She let a tear fall down her face before she quickly wiped it away. "I went to the hospital and had to get ten staples, here." She pointed to the scar above her left eye. It was faint but it was still there. "Then when I was 8 I was pushed out the second story window of the house and I broke my arm in four places. That is where this scare comes from." She pointed to the one that I was looking at earlier. "I was 10 when I was hit with a baseball bat repeatedly in the stomach and leg. I broke my leg that day. I also had to have surgery on my stomach for internal bleeding." She held up her shirt and showed us the scare that went from her belly button all the way across her stomach. "That's from that surgery I've been hospitalized for dehydration four times when I was 11. On my 12th birthday I suffered from a traumatic head injury. I was pushed in the swimming pool, in the deep end. I can't swim. When I was pushed I hit my head on the side of the pool." She looked up at me. Her eyes were telling me that she wanted to stop.

"It's ok." I said holding on to her hand. Randy sat down beside her.

"At 13, dad and his friends started putting their cigars out on my arm. I became a human ashtray. Dad said it was my payment for him having to put up with a little bitch he never even wanted." More tears escaped from her face and she wiped them away just as fast as before. "My childhood sucked." She smiled just a little trying to make a joke. "At 14 for the payment to my father, he had his buddies come over and," She stopped. She looked up at me. "they," she stopped again.

"Did they make you sleep with them?" Randy asked, practically reading my mind.

She only nodded her head. "That and they tortured me for a couple of days. Here," she took her sweatshirt off moved the shirt she had on off of her shoulder and showed us another scare. "is where I got a nail got put in when I didn't listen." She put her shirt back on her shoulder before she moved her shirt down a little. "Here," she pointed to her neck. "is where I was choked on numerous accounts. It was so bad that I passed out and had to hospitalized. I didn't talk for 6 months, because it hurt so bad to speak. I was only 14 at the time." She shook her head before she put her sweatshirt back on.

"Lou, what happened to your back?" Randy asked looking at the exposed skin when she lifted up her arms.

"That happened just last year." She sighed. "Dad pushed me throw a glass door. He was drunk and he said that if I didn't sleep with him that I would regret it. Well, I didn't sleep with him and I did regret it. He pushed me through the door that went outside and I got glass all in my back. He refused to take me or even call the ambulance. I walked there myself, after dad went to sleep. I ended up having to have blood pumped into me. They said they didn't know how I was able to walk there. I hit a nerve in my back with the glass. To this day I can't feel my right leg or my right arm." She closed her eyes and pinched her nose.

"Ok, what did the hospital say about it being your dad?" I asked.

"They didn't believe me. My dad contributes to them so they just look the other way." She removed her hand from her nose and stared at me. "6 months ago, dad punched me and broke my nose. I had two black eyes and he busted my lip. That was when I said that I had enough. I had just turned 16. He hit me a couple of more times and used me an ashtray. Two days ago, however; I had enough of it all. Dad was drunk again. He said that he was going to get me in his bed that night. He grabbed my arm and was pulling me into his room. I just reacted. I grabbed the knife I was using and cut him. He just looked at me like I had lost my mind. He ran and called 911 on me. He hung up the phone and told me that I was going to go to jail. I didn't care. It got me out of the house." She pulled her knees up to her chest again and hugged them. She placed her head back onto her knees and silently cried.

"That isn't right at all." Randy said, standing up from sitting beside her. "What are we going to do, John?" He looked at me.

"I'm going to get her out of there, that's what I am going to do Ran."