She was red again. Like she had been red every time she showered. She had promised herself she'd scrub less today, like she did every day, but she managed to sneak a brillo pad into the shower and couldn't help herself.

She had to get clean.

The dirt made her skin crawl. She felt his skin on her skin still. His breath on her ear. His hands. His warmth. It was seeping deeper into her skin and she had to wash it off and get it away. She didn't even mind the blood that flowed from her broken skin. It relieved her to know she had gotten that deep. It made her feel like she scrubbed hard enough. The burning even offered a distraction from the voices in her head. They told her mean things. They showed her terrible images. She didn't like them.

It had gotten worse the moment her parents came home and took her back to that house. The house with the rooms. She didn't expect them to move, but she had wished that maybe she could. That maybe they'd rebuild or redecorate to confuse her mind. But everything was exactly the same. They had changed the carpet and fixed the window, but nothing else had changed. She now slept in the living room indefinitely. She couldn't bare to go up the stairs unless it was to shower. She liked to shower. She liked to feel like she was getting clean.

Justin had called. He called twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. He asked if she was okay. She'd mumbled no and then they'd both stay on the line for a while before he assured her that he loved her and that she could talk to him about anything.

But he was wrong. She couldn't talk about this. Not to him. Not to anybody.

It killed him. Justin wanted nothing but to comfort him like he had done in so many situations before. New boyfriend, he had her back. Test coming up, he was the study buddy. Couldn't make a lay up on the basketball court? He taught her and did the coolest jump shot she'd ever seen. College friends? He introduced her. Whatever it was, he had it in the bag and vice versa when he needed help.

But this shell of a woman needed more than jump shots and boyfriend advice. She was broken in a way that Justin's band aid's couldn't help her heal. He was trying though. He wanted her to know that he was there for here and that there was no place else he'd rather be than her side. He knew it would be hard. He didn't want to become impatient. He wanted to shake her from her coma and try and live life again with his best friend like old times.

"Honey..." Stefani closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her chest when her mother sat by her head and pet her hair down. "You hungry?"

"No," she said, like always, and her mother sighed.

"You need to eat, Stef," her mother gently scolded, "You haven't eaten in so long." Her mother's hands rested on her shoulder and Stefani discreetly shrugged them off as she rolled over on the sofa, facing it rather than the black television. Her mother sighed and Stefani squeezed her eyes shut; not wanting to cry again. She cried enough at night. Her eyes still burned from her previous tear fest and she wasn't in the mood to deal with the pity hugs and sympathy her family threw at her. Even Patrick hugged her. He never hugged her.

How sad was she now? Patrick used to laugh at her for frowning, let alone being in tears. Now she was so weak he couldn't laugh. He had to hug her because she was such a pathetic sight. She hated it so much, but she didn't know how to be strong.

The doorbell rang suddenly and Stefani's mother pulled herself up from the couch. Stefani didn't need to look to know her mother was tearing up. Her sniffles were evidence enough, but she cleared up the moment she opened the door.

"Hey, Mrs. Anderson." Justin. Stefani felt her insides recoiling even more than usual at the sound of his voice and as her mother invited him inside, she buried herself into the corner of the couch.

"Stefani," her mother called out and she sighed. "Justin's here." She felt the couch cushion sink by her curled up legs and knew he'd taken a seat. She heard her mother's moving feet against the wooden floors as she walked out of the room. There was silence for a long while afterward. Justin sat back and Stefani opened her eyes and stared at the dark green suede of her family's sofa. Her scent soon met her nose and it was just bordering the strong line. He never quite got that cologne thing down, but had gotten better over the years. She used to smell him before she saw him; that's what she used to say to make him mad. They laughed a million times over it though.

She hadn't laughed in so long.

"I got accepted to Hanford," Justin said quietly and her interest peaked a little. "They gave me a scholarship." Justin was a lot more excited than he was letting on. Stefani and him always wanted to go to school together, but he had been unsure of what to major in, so opted to go to community instead of going to Hanford with her. At the end of his sophomore year, Justin decided that Hanford University was where he wanted to spend his last two college years; sports medicine his major and Stefani Anderson his personal tour guide.

It didn't seem like much of that was going to happen now. Stefani didn't even think about school. She didn't really think at all. It was a lot less painful to have a blank mind than one with racing thoughts.

"That's good," she managed to mumble from her depths within the couch.

"Thanks," Justin said before clearing his throat. "Pat said you weren't eating." Her brows raised up as she turned a little to crane her neck and look at him.

"Patrick?" she asked and he nodded in confirmation before she turned back around and nuzzled her face into the crook of the sofa.

"You gotta eat, Steffy," Justin told her gently, "Even if you don't feel hungry, you gotta get somethin' in your stomach." She wasn't stupid. She knew she had to eat, but her stomach churned so deeply when she opened her mouth and his face would appear. She couldn't. She couldn't eat.

"Justin..." Her voice was shaking and her tear ducts were overflowing with moisture. She didn't even feel the warning signs of crying. The tears were suddenly there as she shook in her corner of the couch. Justin was hovering above her suddenly, rubbing her back and whispering it was okay and that he loved her dearly. She believed his love, but she didn't believe it was okay. It would never be okay.

"Steffy, I'm so sorry," he apologized, overwhelmed with sadness, almost to the brink of tears. He didn't know who this woman was below him, sobbing as her mother stood at the entrance of living room, crying silently herself. This house had so much sadness where laughter and happiness had once been.

Stefani felt like she was suffocating and she gently pushed him away, needing to sit up and feel the cool air against her skin. She got just that when he moved away and helped her into a sitting position. She gasped and tried to regain her proper breathing pattern.

"I'll get you some water," she heard her mother say before she disappeared into the kitchen. Justin's hand was on the back of Stefani's neck as she leaned back against the sofa. It was warm, but clammy and Stefani was uncomfortable, so she rolled over and rested her face in the crook of his neck and freed his arm, which wrapped over her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. She was hiccuping and sniffling, but she balled up against him and he stroked her head with his cheek and kissed her exposed forehead.

"You'll be fine," he whispered, "You're so strong... You'll get through all this bullshit, I swear." Stefani nodded despite her doubts and found a bit of comfort in his words. Justin was always good with words.

She wondered, for a moment, if she should mention that she was feeling so much need for distraction. That the words that flowed through her mind told her to scrub hard and break skin; it was the only way to know she had cleaned right. She had to see blood.

But she knew that even through his warm embrace and comforting words, Justin didn't know what to do already. She could practically see the look of shock and uneasiness that would take over his baby face as she told him about the voices in her head, begging for blood. His family had long determined she was suicidal the night they found her on the floor in the kitchen, shards of glass everywhere and her bleeding in the center of it all. She didn't need to say anything to further prove their theory right.

Stefani wasn't stupid, she already knew she sounded crazy. She didn't feel crazy. Maybe she had a right to be crazy, but nothing snapped in her. Nothing felt off. She didn't have hallucinations. Just terrible memories and desperate need to cleanse her flithy body.

"Here you go," Stefani's mother said gently as she placed the glass of cool water on the table top, not bothering to use a coaster like she demanded for all of Stefani's life. Her eyes were red and puffy, a sure sign of tears, and as Stefani peeled herself from Justin and stared at the ring of water forming at the bottle of the cup, she knew her mother was on the brink of insanity.

"Thanks, Mom," she said softly and her mother nodded and crept from the room. Stefani didn't remove her eyes from the dripping condensation of her glass. Her throat was dry, but she couldn't lift the cup. All she did was stare and remembered all the times when a coaster-less cup was her mother's biggest issue. Now, she probably didn't remember what she made such a big fuss over it every time Stefani forget to coaster up. Now she probably regretted every time she raised her voice at Stefani. She regretted every negative moment she had with her daughter.

As if yelling less would've stopped her rape.

Stefani sighed; she knew her mother too well sometimes. She wish she didn't.

"Aren't you thirsty?" Justin asked, already lifting the cup to her lips before she could answer. Stefani rested her hands near his on the glass as he tilted it slightly on to her parted lips, allowing the cool, clear liquid to coat her dry throat. She drank the entire cup in one big gulp and Justin smiled approvingly.

"Thanks..." Stefani said, embarrassed that now she had to be practically spoon fed in her feeble state of mind.

"Sure," Justin told her before adding, "All that water must've made you hungry." Justin was good with words, but subtly wasn't a specialty of his.

"No," Stefani declined, already curling back into her secluded ball. "No food."

"You're losing weight," Justin stated sadly as he gently rested his hand on her arm and rubbed it. Stefani closed her eyes in content as the warmth of his motions ran through her limb and made her shudder.

"No, I'm not," she argued, although she knew she had. She could probably count all of her ribs right now.

"I'm gonna make you a sandwich." Justin got up and went to the kitchen. Stefani didn't bother stopping him. She didn't feel like wasting energy on arguments she'd lose. If he wanted to waste his time making a sandwich she'd never eat, she'd let him. He had already been warned.

It didn't take long for the whispering to start. The muddled voices came from the kitchen. Justin was conversing with her family. She was sure because it happened every other day. There was always whispering from her parents' room. Patrick was always whispering on the phone when somebody called. Her mom whispered to the neighbors and her dad whispered loving words and threats against her rapist at night when he thought she was asleep.

All this whispering and she heard it all.

It hurt. Not so much the words. She was sure it was worry and plots to get her to eat only, but the pain came from the fact that even words were too much for the failed superwoman. She was half the person, if not less, she used to be and her family and friends all decided that she couldn't handle the pressure of dealing with herself. She couldn't handle talks about eating or improvement (rather, a lack thereof). She couldn't hear about all the police investigations or rewards put out for information on her attackers.

Her friends, like Keshon, called once a week now. Just a two minute conversation with whoever answered. Nobody ever wanted to say much to her. Stefani never said much back, but when it was time to speak to another one of her family members, her friends babbled on and listened with the most alertness.

She'd become a freak whose only social interactions were acts of kindness and pity and unwritten promises to not turn away from a friend in a time of need, even if the friend was a stump, unmoving and undead.

"Peanut butter, bananas, and maple syrup on toasted bread," Justin boasted proudly as he walked around the couch and plopped down beside Stefani's still form. It was her absolute favorite sandwich. Nothing was better than warm, melted peanut butter smoothering banana slices with maple syrup adding a bit more sweetness. Her stomach growled.

"What kind of bread?" Stefani asked quietly. She didn't want to seem eager. She wasn't sure if she was ready to indulge just yet.

"Potato, duh." Justin joked to lighten the mood, but Stefani could only focus on the sweet memories of carefree days full of banana sandwiches.

"Hmm..." She turned to face him as his long body perched on the edge of the seat. The space she left available was limited with her body covered in blankets, but he smiled and looked comfortable.

"I got you a glass of cold milk too," he said gently now, still smiling, but not pressuring so much she'd deny him. "Just a little bite, Steffy." His eyes were pleading and she could feel her hunger start to take its nature course. Feel hungry, eat food. "Just an itsy witsy, teeny weeny bite." He continued to egg her on. She looked up at his playful eyes and though they were darkened with sadness, they held the warm glow they always did.

"Just a little bite," she finally broke down as Justin smiled brightly, picking up a piece of the sandwich. It was triangular because he cut it that way for her. She always liked the trianges. She took a little bit at the end, the bread crumbling and crunching in her mouth and the squishy banana/peanut butter/syrup combination blending in a delicious array of flavors. Her mouth water and her stomach was grateful. She was so hungry now that she sat up and grabbed the plate. Justin jumped up and moved to sit beside her, laughing lightly.

"Good?" he asked and she nodded, finishing her first half, glupping down milk, and picking up the other piece of sandwich. Justin watched in awe as she devoured her meal, finishing off her milk before placing the plate and glass on top of each other. They both waited a moment, but she didn't look sick and Stefani didn't feel sick.

"Thank you," she said, once she was feeling fine. "It was good."

"I can see that," Justin joked, smiling as the corners of her mouth moved upward. It wasn't quite a smile and he was sure it didn't reach her eyes, but it was enough for now. "Do you want another?" She thought for a moment. She was definitely still hungry.

"Okay." Her words were soft, but Justin caught them and nodded.

"I'll be right back." He swiftly walked back in the dirfection of the kitchen. Stefani watched his retreating form. Her hand rested on her stomach and she felt fine. Nothing was on her mind, even now, except for that banana sandwich and another glass of milk.

Stefani couldn't believe she ate. Justin had suckered her in with big, blue eyes and sweet-toned words. She almost smiled. He was too sweet sometimes. She wondered what she'd ever do without him.