God, she didn't want to think about the hurt. They'd run so many tests on her she thought she would run out of blood. All she could do was lay there and cry, cry and beg for mercy.

After a few days, she stopped asking for help; no one would answer her. When they would come for her, she used to put up a fight, all the way until she was strapped down to the table. After a while, and the doctors started to ignore her all together, she even stopped fighting their needles.

All she could do was cry silently. But even now that was getting tiring. It didn't help. And all the pity looks did were make her mad.

If she knew she'd have a chance, she'd make a break for it. The next doctor who touched her would end up in a ball on the floor, hopefully suffering from a few severe head wounds. They deserved that and more for all the pain they've put her through.

Just thinking about her family and friends made her despair seem even more real. She would probably never see her parents again, nor her grandma. And what about her two best friends in the world? She missed them so much.

She wondered what they were doing right now. They must be worried sick about her. Her parents must've freaked when they saw she wasn't in her bed last... god, it'd been so long she couldn't remember the exact date.

It could've been days, maybe weeks. But it felt like months; years even. They must be worried sick, she reasoned. But then why hadn't anyone come to help her yet? Cause they don't know where you are, a little voice in her head said. You don't even know where you are.

When she was brought here, she was unconscious; well, asleep is what they told her. But she knew better. The tiniest noise used to wake her up. There was no way being hauled into a big truck or something wouldn't have done the trick. She'd been drugged.

When she woke up, she was in this dark little room, lying on the floor. They hadn't even had the courtesy to put her in the bed. They just left her on the cold, dark, dingy floor!

Still in her nightgown, she'd gotten up and started to freak, calling out for anyone. She waited for hours before she heard footsteps. Crying for answers, she watched as they just kept going, dressed in heavy black clothing and loaded down with guns.

They would pass by every 20 minutes, down to the second. She'd tried keeping time by them, but it was hard to keep up when she was so hungry and thirsty. She eventually lost count, dozing off into a very restless sleep. When she had woken up, once more she was in another room than the one she'd fallen asleep in.

This one was bright white-a medical examination room and she was now wearing a thin tank top and white pants. God, she screamed the whole time they examined her, but it didn't do any good. You'd think it would've set in earlier.

None of her questions had been answered. They just kept telling her this was for her own good. What good? It was good to be taken away from your family and friends? From everyone she loved and cared about? Where was the good in that?

Sighing with frustration, she laid her head against the wall and thought idly, 'and where's the good in goodbye'? Her muddled brain was roaming now, trying to think about anything but her situation. Trying to get comfortable on the cot and not touch her, which was nearly impossible, she pulled her legs up under herself.

Suddenly, she was pulled out of her daze by the sound of her cell door being pried open. Frozen with fear, she merely watched as two big burly guards in black drug a guy into the room. He was twisting in their arms, trying to break free.

Just as quickly as they had emerged, the guards dropped him onto the floor and fled back out of the tiny room. He just fell to his knees and let his cuffed hands fall down to the floor in front of him. His dark hair covered his face, masking it from her view.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she looked around the room, wondering why he was in here with her. What was going on?

The commotion in the hall made them both look up, but his eyes never went to the door, they just seemed to look into space. She could hear them clearly now. They had another girl; she sounded young, maybe her own age. She was screaming, but she couldn't make up the exact words.

But her new roommate must have. He was up in seconds, throwing him self at the door. "Let her go!! You have me, let her go!! Isabel!!"

Crying with fear and sympathy, all she could do was hide her head in her hands and listen as the other young girl cried back to him. He pounded and few more times before sliding to the floor once more. She could see the tears in his eyes, the ones he was trying so hard to keep there.

He slid the rest of the way to the floor, laying his head down on the cold concrete and his still cuffed wrist out in front of him. She pulled her head up some and studied him, wondering if he was safe. He'd just reacted so fast that she didn't even see him jump off the floor a minute ago. She could faintly hear him crying and her guilt soared. He was just like her, here under duress. She wondered if he was taken in the middle of the night too.

He flexed his wrist and she could faintly see the red marks from the cuffs. She looked around the room before sliding off the bed slowly, making a steady but tense move toward him. When she'd been brought in, she was awake enough to watch them remove the cuffs. There was a megatisim on 'em, where anyone wearing them couldn't reach. Both sides had to activated at the same time, once more rendering the wearer useless to escape.

With a shaky hand, she reached out and quickly pushed all the buttons down. He jumped back in an instant, causing her to the do the same. He looked at her as if he was just now noticing she in the room. She sank back and retreated to the cot, not knowing what to do now.

He slowly looked down at his wrist and slid the cuffs off. He laid them on the floor and stared at them. "Thank you."

She looked up at him, not even sure if she had heard his voice. It was low and soft, but there was a definite power in it. "You're welcome," she whispered back.

He nodded and just kept looking at the cuffs. "How long have you been here?"

She shrugged and looked down at her feet. She could already feel the tears in her eyes. "I don't know," she admitted.

There was another pause of silence, then he asked, "Are you scared?:

She barely nodded. "Yeah...more then I've ever been."

He looked up at her, and she felt a twang in her chest. His eyes were the most perfect deep brown she'd ever seen. He stared at her for a beat before looking back down. "I'm Max."

Wiping her tears away, she replied, "I'm Liz."

***

Max sat on the floor, too ashamed to look up at her. He could hear her short breathing, meaning she was near tears. She was curled in a ball, tightly tucked into the corner of the tiny cot.

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Max looked up at her. Her brown hair was around her face, clouding her looks from him. He could tell she was upset, and probably scared of him.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he mumbled, feeling stupid saying that.

She looked up at him, then quickly looked away. "I went to sleep in my own bed," she stated softly. "I wrote in my journal like I do-or did-every night then went to bed. And I woke up here."

Max looked back down, feeling uncomfortable that she had shared that. After thinking about it for a minute, Max told his version. "We were driving home. There was a car stalled in the road and we stopped to check it out." After a beat, Max added in a sarcastic voice, "Guess that'll teach me to be helpful."

"We?" Liz asked in a small voice. Max shifted. "The girl. Isabel?" she asked.

Max looked up at her and finally nodded. "She's my sister."

"I'm so sorry," Liz replied, her eyes downcast.

Max almost wanted to yell at her for the pity. How could she pity him? She was here too; she was just as bad off as he was. What right did she have to feel pity on him?

"I don't need your pity," he mumbled.

Liz looked a little shocked by his response, but nodded. Her eyes wide, she looked down at her feet, which were curled up to her. He noticed how she had her arms around herself, trying to keep warm. She was only wearing a thin white tank top and pants.

Max looked back at himself and slowly slid off his jacket. Standing up, he walked over to her, handing over the coat. "Here...you look cold."

She looked up at him then at the leather jacket. "I'm fine."

Max knew she was lying. He gently laid it on the bed, beside her legs. Then he went back to looking out the tiny window on the door. It was the only source of light they had; and their only source to the outside world.

He faintly heard a shift on the bed behind him, and his jacket ruffling. He kept his eyes on the window, even after she spoke up.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I guess," Max replied.

After a pause, she asked, "Do you know why you're here?"

Max froze, not moving an inch. How could he answer that?

"Cause I...I have no idea why I'm here," she whispered.

Max finally spun to look at her. She was still curled up in a ball, but now she was also wearing his coat.

"I don't know why I was taken from my home..."

Max walked a few feet closer, wondering how to react. "Liz..." he felt too weird to say much more.

She looked up at him, her face full of tears. Max stopped, struck by how pretty she was. Even with her eyes red and puffy, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Her skin was pale and creamy, and her eyes were a deep brown. "I wanna go home."

Max took in a deep breath and moved a few feet closer. Suddenly, he heard a pounding from out in the hallway. He spun to look, panicked at what might happen.

"It's the guards," he heard Liz say. "They come by every 20 minutes. You get used to it," she added.

Max watched closely as they passed, never even looking at him. He did look at them, and noticed the guns they were carrying. After a few seconds, they were gone, and all Max could hear was Liz and his breathing.

"Do they ever miss a turn?" Max asked Liz.

"Not to my knowledge," she replied in an uncertain voice.

Max finally looked back at her, then down at his watch. It was after midnight. He could see she was tired. "It's late. Maybe you should get some sleep," he suggested.

"How do you know?" she asked, not moving her head from its spot leaned against the wall.

"I've got my watch."

Liz scoffed. "They'll take it. They'll take everything you have..."

Max could hear the sadness in her voice and wondered what they'd actually done to her. Isabel popped into his mind then. What would they do to her?

Liz stirred and stood up, his jacket swallowing her whole body up. "What?" he asked.

She walked past him and got on her tiptoes to look out the window. After a few seconds, she turned back around and walked to the other wall, leaning against her shoulder.

Max watched her, wondering what was going on. "Are you ok?"

Liz looked down, seeming to be embarrassed. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Max nodded then thought about something. "Um...when you have to go to bathroom, what do you do?" he asked softly.

"Get a guard's attention, if you can. They take you." Liz sat down on the cot and crossed her legs.

Max went back to looking out the window, trying to spot someone. After a few minutes he looked back at his watch. If Liz was right about the guards' route, they should be by in about 10 minutes. Max was about to pace the room when he heard footsteps. Looking out into the hallway, Max stopped a tall guy wearing all black. He had long blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail.

"Hey...here comes someone," Max pointed out, looking over his shoulder to Liz.

She walked over and looked, instantly backing up. "Um...not him," she stated.

Max could see the fear in her eyes and felt protectiveness over her. He'd only met her a few minutes ago, but he felt something was going on with her; something good.

"What did he do to you?"

Liz looked up at him and shook her head. "Nothing...I just don't like him."

Max could actually feel the cold vibes flowing off of Liz now. She was lying-that guy had done something to her. As the guard passed by the room, he looked in and smirked. Liz took a few steps back, looking at a wall.

Max took a deep breath and gave him a cold look, watching the guard until he was down the hall. That guy was trouble. Liz sat down on the bed, and pulled her legs up against herself. Max shifted on his feet, not knowing if he should sit down or not. "Um...is there anyway to call someone?" he asked, looking around the room.

Liz shrugged. "The guards will be by soon," she reasoned.

As if on cue, Max heard the pounding footsteps coming down the long corridor.

Liz stood up at walked over, standing beside him. "Hey, can I go to the bathroom?" she asked.

One of the guards slowed and looked in the window, holding up his gun. "Which one?" he asked them.

Liz stepped forward slowly. "Me," she mumbled. The guard looked her over then motioned for the one in back to come over. Max listened as he punched in some combination and waited for the beep. The other guard stepped up then and opened the door, branding his weapon.

"You, get back," he ordered Max.

Seeing that the other 3 men behind him also had guns, Max obeyed, keeping his eyes on Liz. She took a deep breath and walked forward, about to go out the door when he stopped her.

"Remove the coat," he ordered. Liz stopped and pulled it closer but didn't reply. "Remove the coat or you don't leave this room," he stated.

Liz looked down and started to remove the coat, but Max reached out and stopped her. "She's cold," he said to the guards.

He pulled the riffle up and aimed it at Max. "She takes it off or doesn't go to the bathroom," he said in a threatening tone.