It was her sophomore year of high school when Stefani had first come in contact with Justin. He sat in the seat beside her and would always be engaged in some hysterical conversation with the boys surrounding him. Keshon and Stefani would be carrying on as well, laughing at one of Keshon's crazy tales about her cousin R.J.

That morning the class had been oddly quiet. Whether it was because of the rain or the fact that it had been Monday is still a mystery. Justin was drumming a beat on his desk absentmindedly before he reached over and tapped her shoulder. Stefani turned and faced him expectantly and all he did was ask if she had been in his pre-calculus class. That simple question launched a conversation about their common hatred for the subject and the teacher, and paved the way for the friendship that blossomed from there on.

Communication was the key to their friendship. They found it surprisingly easy to be honest with each and share feelings and goals, but now, Stefani was buried deep within herself and unable to vocalize her pain and fear because, for once in the extent of their friendship, she knew he could not understand. Even when he watched her, his eyes full with worry, she did not speak to him. She tried to avoid his gaze and his presence in general. All she wanted to do was crawl in a deep, dark hole and disappear.

But here she was sitting at the Harlesses' dinner table instead. Justin sat beside her, Lynn and Paul across from them, and Patrick at the head of the table. Lynn had prepared a hearty meal of fried chicken, greens, rice, gravy, and mashed potatoes. It smelled and looked delicious, as delicious as Stefani remembered it tasting, but her plate remained untouched.

No amount of food could fill the gaping hole in her chest no matter how good it looked or smelled or tasted. In fact, Stefani didn't believe she'd ever be able to eat again. The thought of putting anything into her mouth disgusted her. She felt that she would vomit if she stared at her plate hard enough.

"Aren't ya hungry?" Lynn asked with her southern twang in full swing. Stefani could feel the eyes of everybody at the table as she looked down at her full plate and shrugged.

"I'm okay, I guess." Stefani could almost feel the frown forming on Lynn's face.

"Well, you have to eat, honey," she pressed on, "It'll make you feel better." Stefani wondered if Lynn honestly believed that fried chicken could make up for the destruction of her world. That greens could make up for the violation she experienced. That mashed potatoes could make her constant worry disappear. That the rice and gravy could keep her company so she wouldn't feel as alone as she did. . .but she didn't ask.

"I think I'm gonna lie down." Everybody paused their eating to watch Stefani slowly drag herself out of the dining area and into the living room before trudging up the stairs. Justin glanced down at his plate and picked at his greens, suddenly losing his appetite. The family ate in silence, an awkward silence they rarely had.

Stefani stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. The hall was dark now, unlike earlier when she had showered. She shivered and hugged herself at the thought of what, rather who, would be lurking in the darkness. She found herself backing away and settling onto the lush, tan sofa in the living room. She curled up against the cushions and rested her head on the armrest.

Her eyes were heavy, but she could not sleep. She was too afraid to dream of him. Of them. To relive her night of terror in her mind again. The picture of his sharp, cold, uncaring eyes appeared in her head and she shook her head, trying to knock out the thought.

"Honey?" Lynn approached her resting spot and Stefani began to sit up to give her room. "No, that's okay, dear." She laid back down without hesitation as Lynn moved to sit at her feet. Stefani could feel her stare burning a hole into her head. It was that look your mother gave you when she knew you had something to say, but was too afraid to tell.

Stefani pretended to be unfazed and Lynn sighed.

"Your mother and father are stuck in Hawaii," she informed her suddenly. Stefani shifted her gaze to Lynn's. "The storm that's moving in on us seems to really be hittin' them hard. Lots of winds and floods. No flights are allowed out until it passes." Stefani stared at her and remained quiet.

"They told me it could at least be a week until they come home," Lynn concluded as Stefani wished it would be longer. Any time away from what used to be her home would do her good. Lynn patted her bare feet sympathetically as if she read her mind and rose from the couch. She made her way out of the living room and Stefani continued to rest there, staring at the black television.

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Stefani woke up with a jult when the loud clap of thunder shook the house. Everything was dark in the house except for the light the moon provided through a window. Stefani sat up and felt herself get tangled in a blanket that had been placed over her. She stood and blindly felt her way over to a table lamp before clicking it on and sighing in relief.

Another clap of thunder sounded through the quiet house as she crept through the living room and into the dark kitchen. She flipped the light switch, illuminating the room, and dragged herself over to the dish holder by the sink. She picked up a tall glass cup and began to walk toward the fridge. Another flash of lightening and another clap of thunder. Stefani glanced out of the kitchen window and gasped as a shadow ran by. She began to tremble, staring at the window, hoping that she was just losing her mind.

Another clap of thunder and the whole house went dark.

Stefani dropped the glass in her hand and it crashed against the floor. She was still shaking with fear as knelt down and blindly felt around the glass. She hissed when a shard sliced through her skin. A quick flash of lightening and another clap of thunder rattled her brain as she thought about the glass that pierced through her back when she was thrown onto the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes again and wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"Shit," she hissed when she slapped her hand back down on the glass, completely forgetting about the cup. She was picking the shards from her palm when she heard it. The sound of quiet footsteps. Her breathing quickened as she froze and listened. The sound moved closer to the kitchen and the floor creaked beneath the weight of the walker.

Stefani fell to her hands and knees, once again forgetting about the glass that was now dragging beneath her palm as she crawled across the floor. She ignored the sharp pain of her cuts as she cowarded behind the island in the center of the kitchen and waited as the footsteps drew nearer.

She wanted to scream. Scream for anyone. Scream to scare this attacker away. But she couldn't find her voice. She could barely find her breath. It was less than twenty-four hours since her rape and already, this was happening.

The feet had reached the kitchen. The transition from soft carpet to cold tile was a swoosh and a slap that resounded in her ears. The steps drew nearer and Stefani looked in the direction of the pacing feet. Then it stopped. The room was quiet. Stefani waited and waited. . .

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Stefani screamed as the animalistic cry ran out through the kitchen as her attacker jumped from where he hid and landed beside her. His arms were raised and a bat was in full swing, but came to a hault as his cry subsided into heavy breathing. "Steffy?"

Stefani stopped screaming long enough to see Justin's profile in the moonlight. He dropped the bat to his side and knelt down to the ground. She could hear his heavy breathing before he laughed and shook his head. "You scared the shit outta me," he told her softly.

"Somebody. . . I . . . " she stuttered as she tried to explain the shadow she saw. She pointed towards the window and Justin furrowed his brows.

"Did you see something?" he asked. She nodded and he stood, grabbing his bat. He walked over to the window and peaked outside. He saw nothing and checked the other windows as well. "I don't see anything."

"He was there. . ."

"Who?" Justin asked as the tears welled up in her eyes.

"I. . . don't. . ."

"It's okay," Justin cooed before kneeling down beside her again and cupping her face in his hands. "I'll check outside, okay?" He stood and walked to the back door, slowly unlocking and creaking it open. Stefani watched as he disappeared outside and remained out in the rain for what felt like forever. She wiped her face and felt the blood on her hand smear onto her face. She groaned and slowly stood as Justin re-entered the kitchen.

"There was nobody outside," he assured as water dripped from his body. Another flash of light and another clap of thunder and the lights were on again. Justin's eyes widened as Stefani stood in front of his, a small puddle of blood in her hands. He looked down at the glass on the floor and back at her as she stood in silence.

"I fell," Stefani said softly. Justin searched her eyes as she slowly walked over to her, careful not to step on the glass. He led her to the sink and rinsed her hands off without a word. He was in the middle of patting her hands dry with a clean dish towel when a small crash caught their attention.

"Paul!" Lynn whispered harshly to her husband.

"It's okay, mom," Justin said, "It's just us." A few seconds later, Paul, Lynn, and Patrick crept into the kitchen sheepishly and Justin offered them small smiles.

"Is everything okay?" Paul asked, taking sight of the blood and the glass.

"Yeah. . ." Justin said with uncertainty, "She just. . . fell." They exchanged looks before everything smiled sympathically at Stefani. She wanted them to stop, but she only looked down and fought back her tears.

"How about some tea?" Lynn offered, already walking toward the sink.

"I'll clean this up," Justin said, leaving her with the towel in her hands. Paul and Patrick stood around awkwardly before Patrick turned and jogged back upstairs. Paul stood by Stefani and watched as she held the towel in her trembling hands. He slowly walked towards her and took the towel, lying it down on the edge of the sink. His hands gently cupped hers as he twisted her hands upward and examined the cuts that were displayed sporadically on the skin of her palms and wrists.

"You fell?" he asked as slowly as possible, as if she wouldn't understand if he asked her normally. Stefani didn't respond. She yanked her hands away and raced out of the kitchen. Her fear of the dark disappeared momentarily as she jogged up the stairs and ran up the unlit hallway to the guest room she was suppose to be in. She locked and slammed the door shut before dropping to the floor and crying.

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"Do you really think she fell?" Paul asked Justin as he sat between Lynn and him. Justin nodded and looked back at her mother who's crumpled forehead made her worry quite evident.

"Of course she fell," Justin said, "I heard the glass fall and when I walked into the kitchen, she was crawling over it, scared to death that I was some manic."

"You didn't see her fall and you didn't see the glass fall either," Paul corrected, "You heard glass break and you found her on the floor."

"What are you trying to say?" Justin asked before turning to his mother again, "What is he trying to say?"

"Well. . . I think your father is trying to examine the possibility that maybe she. . . did this to herself."

"You have to be kidding me," Justin groaned, "She would never do that."

"The old Stefani would never do that," Paul said, "She's been through something that none of us can even begin to understand. She's not in the right frame of mind-"

"No, she would never cut herself, Dad," Justin impugned, "I know her."

"You knew her."

"Stop acting like she's gone," Justin snapped, "She's upstairs right now."

"She's depressed."

"Well, give her time and be there for her," Justin said, "Don't have secret meetings behind her back and call her suicidal." Justin stood from his spot on the couch on sighed as turned to skip up the steps. He haulted his actions when he was met by big, brown eyes welled up with tears.

"Good mornin'," Lynn said cheerfully, standing up from the couch. "Are you hungry?" Stefani swallowed the sob in her throat before turning around and running back upstairs. When the sound of her door slamming echoed throughout the house, Justin let go of the breath he had been holding and turned back to his parents with a scowl.

"Well, great going, people," he said sarcastically.

"Justin-" Paul began before being interrupted.

"That was definitely the last thing she needed," Justin told them, "I'm gonna go talk to her." He took quiet steps upstairs to the guest room next to his. He noticed the door was shut and gently pressed his ear to it. A soft whimper followed by a sniffle could be heard from where he stood and he was saddened by it.

Stefani wasn't much of a crier. She always dusted herself off when she fell and held her head high when she lost. In fact, she had told Justin once that she hated crying when he came over during the wake of her grandmother's funeral. Stefani confided in him that it made her feel weak, the worst feeling in the world according to Stefani.

Being the independent, strong-willed woman that she was made it clear as to why she hated to cry. She said it rusted up her reputation and made her eyes 'puff up like blowfish'.

Justin timidly turned the door knob and it crept open as he walked inside. "Steffy?" She didn't answer from the her spot on the bed. Her back was turned toward him as he shut the door behind him and walked over to her bed. "Stef?" he called again gently. She still didn't reply. He took a seat on the edge of her bed and she buried her face into her pillow. He heard the faintess sound of a voice and straid to hear it.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Go away," Stefani murmurred, "Go."

"I'm sorry," Justin said, ignoring her demand, "I'm sorry that you had to hear that. My dad. . . you know my Dad. He likes to overanalyze things. . ." She sniffled and he continued. "Look, I know you. I know you wouldn't do anything like that. . . No matter what happens, I know you're too good for that. . . But I want you to know that if you ever did feel like. . . doing that, come talk to me first so I can remind about how wonderful you are and how I can't live without you, okay?" She sniffled again, but didn't say a word. "Okay. . . I'll just take that as a yes then." He chuckled lightly. "Okay, Stef, I'm gonna shut up and leave now, but remember I'm right next door. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I'll be there." He sat on the bed for a few more seconds before slowly rising and walking over to the door. He looked back over his shoulder one more time before finally making his way out the door.

Just as it was about to close, Stefani rolled onto her back and wiped her eyes. She took her hands and placed them in front of her face, taking a good look at the red scars that now decorated them.

"I hate this," she told him suddenly, "I hate myself. I just. . . I hate everything." Justin fought off his own tears as he watched her wallow in her pain, turning slightly on her back.

Justin backed his way into the room again. "Would you hate it if I hugged you?" he asked. Stefani stiffled.

"Yes," she replied, "I don't your pity, Justin." You already have it he wanted to say, but he didn't.

"It's not pity," he assured her, "It's my love." Stefani sat up slowly and wiped her tearing eyes. She found some form of comfort in words and inched toward him as he sat on the edge of her bed until she was finally settled into his welcoming arms. They sat in silence as he held her tightly and she held him with the same desperation. The fact of the matter was that she was grateful he had come upstairs. She didn't feel as lonely as she did before with his arms wrapped around her.