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Chapter Twenty-One -- PRESENT 7:27 PM

    "The only reason he was there was to protect me the best he could and you!"

    "He was lying," she forces through her mouth as she clenches her jaw.

    "No, he wasn't!" I scream. With that, Tyler rushes in, and a smile over takes his worried face. "Tyler. Where's Alan? Is he okay?"

    He looks between the doctor, Dad, and Sammie. Anger grows inside me as no one answers my questions. I ball my fists as I try to calm down but it doesn't work.

    "Answer me!"

    They all jump, but still, none of them reply. I reach for my IVs and pull them out, biting the inside of my cheeks. The doctor gasps, but I ignore him as I give the rest of them one last chance to answer at least one of my questions.

    "Fine. You can all go to hell," I spit. As I try to walk pass Samantha, she puts her arm out, stopping me. "If you're not going to tell me, I'm going to find out myself. So unless you have an update on Alan, move your arm."

    "He's in surgery right now, but he's going to prison whenever he wakes," she finally answers, disgust laced with her voice. "Now get back in bed."

    "He's not going to prison. He did nothing wrong," I inform her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She shakes her head. "Sammie, believe me!"

    "Dr. Falenson, you may want to bring in the pychriacrt in here as soon as possible. She may show signs of Stockholm Syndrome," Samantha informs the handsome doctor, standing and walking away. She's out of the room before I can even wrap my head around what she was saying.

    Stockholm Syndrome? She thinks I've fallen in love with Alan. I do love him but in a totally different way. He saved my life, several times, and he's one of my best friends, but that's not the reason I don't want him in jail.  

    Two arms snake around my waist just as I reach the door. They drag me back to the bed as I kick and scream for him to let me go. My father leaves the room as Dr. Falenson orders for assistance. Tyler stares at me with his jaw open -- basically on the floor.

    "Ty, don't let them hurt him! He didn't hurt me! He only wanted to save me! He did! He did! I'm alive and safe!" I keep saying things to try and get anyone to understand, but no one seems to be listening.

    "Sedate her," Dr. Falenson orders, holding me down to the bed.

    The fear of waking up in that basement all over again makes the tears fall even more than they already are. As the medicine floods into my veins, my eyelids become too heavy to hold open. My mouth seems to not be working, and the words I am trying to say won't leave my tongue. The next thing I know, I am surrounded by the dreams of my life just two weeks ago.

I have woken, but my eyes have not been opened yet. The fear of opening them and seeing that disgusting basement made it to where I forced myself to promise to never open them again until I heard someone I knew.

    I don't understand. Why don't they believe me? Why can't they? I told them the truth. I told them everything and they won't believe me.

    The shrink told me I had to see her everyday until I'm out of the hospital and then every week until I am approved to be on my own. It's bull. I don't want someone telling me I only think Alan deserves to be out of jail because I'm in love with him. I am not in love with Alan -- he's my brother.

    "El?" I hear someone call out. By the sound of her delicate voice, I know it's Sammie.

    "Don't call me that," I reply, opening my eyes slowly to make sure I won't see the scratches on the wall left by the others.