Rachel felt as if something was knawing at her stomach. How sick she felt... and abandoned. As if she were two people, one sweet and loving, and the other...something horrible, otherwordly. "It was all their fault," she spoke to herself in eerie whispers. "They destroyed me, they made me into this volatile soul, this unspeakable horror. 

    Waiting...waiting... here in the dark. Hearing those voices, those incessant ramblings, oozing out of some abyssmal hole inside the barren earth. They had eaten away at her goodness, with their ugly words, their incessant abuse.

     Were other women as vulnerable as she? Were others as willing to share the sacredness of their bodies and their minds? It was too late, now...too late to redeem the precious hours, too late to taste the sweetness of approval and love and promise. He must answer for this. She must seek out retribution for his crimes.