My mind swam within itself as I drifted between the lines of consciousness. Nothing seemed real and my mind could no longer differentiate between reality and dreams. Yet, I was able to cast everything aside to focus on one strip of sanity. 

Of all things I could remember/dream of before I possibly died, it had to be Francis. Like a movie playing in my head, I saw him screaming over me. He held me tight to his chest, but I could not feel him; his touch no longer lingering on my skin.

The world became dark again, and only the sound of his voice penetrated the darkness behind my eyes.

"Robyn Jean!" Francis screamed. 

His screams seemed dull, almost a whisper, as he continued saying that name. I had no idea who it was, but I had growing suspicions.

"Robyn, I will never hurt you again! Just please wake up. I'm so sorry, just wake up!" he cried as his voice began to drift away. 

"Robyn, you need to wake up. I promise I will never hurt you again, I mean it this time. Just wake up. Just open your eyes Robyn!" 

Her name rung through my mind, burrowing deeper and deeper, until it hit me. All the missing pieces fell into place. Robyn. 

"Our baby will be alright. Just open your eyes and we can be happy family again. Please Robyn, please!" 

His voice faded away, and I just wanted to sleep. The darkness of my dreams seemed so inviting, but his voice keep me from wander further into them.

"Robyn!" Francis screamed.

His pleas echoed through my eternal darkness, but like everything else in my life it ended. No longer did I have to bear his desperate cries for his wife. No longer did I have to deal with the pain in my life because it all ended.

For what seemed a lifetime I floated in the blackness of my mind. Maybe that is what happens when people died; they are damned to drift in the darkness of eternity. 

With all that extra time, I was finally given a chance to work out what really was going on.

My kidnapping had been pre-destined; fated to happen because of one man. Francis Potts had planned my kidnapping. Yet, like every tale, there was a back story. 

Francis had once been married to a woman named Robyn Jean, and together they had Olivia. When Olivia was still a baby her mother became pregnant again with Isaeic. 

From there the lines of reality and dream collided. What really happened to Robyn? Isaeic? What was so traumatizing for Francis that he had to replace his wife with me? Was he truly insane?

"Wake up," a voice intruded on my peace.

The sudden noise caught me off guard and caused me to jump. Dead people can't jump; I was alive.

My eyes shot opened as my body jolted forward, but I was quickly snapped back into someone's chest. Their arms curled around my waist as they held me in their lap, but I was too weak to resist.

"Honey, you're up," Francis said breathlessly.

His head nuzzled into the nape of my neck with his now full grown beard tickled my skin. He pulled me tighter into himself, until pain ran through my body.

I gasp in pain, and he quickly released me. As I fought off the faintness, he began to apologize. 

"Please forgive me," he pleaded once more.

Rolling my eyes, I caught a glimpse out the open window. The sun was low in the sky, but not yet setting. I knew it had to be evening, but of what day I was unsure. All I knew was that I wasn't going to spend my life in the arms of that man.

With energy steadily growing, I dared myself to attempt to pull myself away again. I failed. Once again I was forcefully pulled into Francis when my body threatened to buckle.

"Stop struggling, you're okay now. I must order you to strict bed rest until you get better," he dictated.

His demands made me sicken, but I mustered as much strength as possible to try and fight him. Of course this ended as my previous two efforts, and I was damned to remain as I was.

"Sugar, I'm very sorry for my actions. I want you to know that I will never hurt you again, nor our child. I wouldn't have acted as I did if I knew you were carrying our baby," he said.

I felt him smile against my neck as he pulled up my night shirt and began to rub my stomach. Underneath his hand and my guts, a baby was forming. As if his hand motion were that of a with, I began to realize how serious the matter was.

I was several weeks along with his child, and he had been waiting for this all along.

"I'm really glad were going to have a baby. We're going to give Olivia a baby brother or sister, I bet she'll be delighted. I personally want a baby boy, but any healthy child is a blessing," he whispered.

Or a curse. No longer could I stand his comments, I had to do something.

I placed my hand over his, and pulled it away from my stomach. It was one of the few motions my sore body could manage, but it was more about the message than the action.

Without any words said, I had completely changed the atmosphere in the room.

"What's wrong honey?" Francis asked.

I took in a deep breath and prepared myself for the battle of a life time.

"Everything," I started out hoarsely,  but my voice soon steadied. 

"I don't want your baby. It's an abomination that is growing inside my stomach, not a blessing! The poor child will be born into sin if it even reaches full term. The thing is not made from love, but from lust. The lust of a sadistic man who raped me!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I would not stop.

"I saw your photos. I saw your wife and Olivia. You just want me to replace her, but I won't! My name is Haitlin not Robyn, and I won't be dealt her life. That's right, I heard you screaming for her when you pushed me down the stairs. You don't love me! You are just so infatuated with her that you won't realize that she is gone! Robyn is gone Francis!" I spat.

I felt his body stiffen at my words, and I prepared myself for the worst. I had never pinned so many accusations against him at once, so only God knew how he would react. Yet, that didn't scare me. I needed answers and was prepared to get them.

"in the last photo of her, she was pregnant. That was Isaeic wasn't it?" I questioned, yet he wouldn't answer.

"Wasn't it?!" I repeated with anguish.

His silence was my only answer, but that was all too telling.

"What happened to him?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Francis's arms tightly gripped my stomach, crushing me into him.

"Tell me now," I demanded.

I knew I was in no position to demand things, but I also knew how to work Francis by now. He may have the bronze, but I had the brains to take him down from the inside. 

Like a schoolboy in trouble, he squealed everything I asked for. 

"She had a miscarriage."

A lie. 

"Why did she have a miscarriage if she was so far along?" I asked.

Silence.

"It's because she never had a miscarriage, correct?" I deduced.

I knew everything that had happened already, I just needed him to confirm it. His shaky, guilt ridden breaths were all I needed to continue.

"Isaeic isn't here today because he's dead," I finally stated.

Francis's arms gripped me so tight that I could feel bruises forming, but I wouldn't stop.

"He was killed in the womb. Isn't that right? The only reason you don't have a happy family right now is because you killed them. You pushed Robyn down the stairs when she was pregnant with Isaeic, and they both died. That's why you screamed her name instead of my own. That's why you kidnapped me. You want everything to be like it used to, but it never will. You're a murder," I spat the last word.

In all honesty, I knew that would break him, so I shouldn't have been so shocked by his reaction. 

"Shut up!" he screamed in sudden anguish.

His hands left my stomach and rammed into my back, pushing me off the bed. I fell to the floor with my breath knocked out of me. As I gasped for air he stormed over until he stood above me with fists clenched. I was in trouble.

"Shut the hell up!" he screamed again as he reached down towards my neck.

"You wouldn't dare hurt me!" I yelled in retaliation.

My fear of his actions had subsided over the months. Now I could care less if he tried to kill me because I held the upper hand. He needed me, and I knew it. The child that grew in my stomach would be my protector, but also the fact that without me he would fall to pieces. I was the sole part that held up his sick fantasy.

"You wouldn't want to hurt your baby again, would you? Could you really deal with the fact that you killed Isaeic and our baby?" I said in a harsh whisper.

Our baby. The words hung in the silence of the room, echoing over and over again. I hadn't meant to say it, but it was the truth. The child may have been conceived by Francis's sin, but I was still its mother. No matter how hard I wanted to deny it, the truth was that the baby was ours and Francs knew that.

He stood deathly still with his hands wrapped around my neck. The conflict that danced behind his eyes told me that I had won. I made him realize that he needed me more than ever, and he couldn't hurt me.

For a split second I felt his grip tighten, but then he released my neck. His hand immediately took place in my hair, and pulled up. 

I screamed in pain as he raised my entire body off the floor by my hair. My scalp screamed in pain as I tried finding my footing underneath myself. Failing, I only fell to my knees as he dragged me into the hall. 

I clawed at his hands and thrashed my body as I put up a fight. If I was going to go down, then I wanted to do it with a bang. 

"Keep still," he demanded through clenched teeth.

He probably didn't want Olivia to hear us, but I didn't care. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I lunged away from him. My sudden action caught him off guard, allowing me to slip out of his grasp.

My head had pounded as if on fire, but I took little notice. I had focused on my escape, and wouldn't let petty pain keep me away from it. 

When I was freed, I had fallen to my arms and knees. Knowing I didn't have enough time to get up, I opted for crawling. I inched my way towards Olivia's open door, but two hands grasped my ankle.

Like out of a horror film, I was dragged back with nails clawing at the ground. 

"Olivia!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

She was my last effort of freedom, but she ignored me. Not even a sound came from her room in response. I was deserted.

I screamed in pain as Francis pulled me up by my hair, once again.  If Olivia was going to ignore my pleas, then she would have to deal with the consequence of hearing me be tortured.

Although Francis's actions pointed towards murder, I knew he would not do it. Instead he would torture me the point of death, but not over the edge; he still needed me after all. 

"Where's your daughter Francis? Did you kill her too?" I screamed.

My voice had become strained, but I would not be silenced. My words would be heard until they rang around the world, but of course they reached Francis first.

His hand retracted backwards, followed by a swift slap across the face. My cheek stung with enough pain to make tears well in my eyes, but it didn't mask the look on Francis's face. 

Apparently, he didn't know why Olivia was so quiet either. With that making itself a higher priority, in his mind. Than myself he slowly walked over to Olivia room.

Her room had looked like a tornado had gone on a rampage in it. Clothes were strewn across the room, accompanied by her stuffed animals. It was obvious that she was gone, but to where I did not know.

"Francis, you didn't really kill her did you?" I asked with panic leaking into my voice.

"Of course not. I wouldn't kill my own daughter," he spat back.

I held my tongue from asking him how he determined that he could kill his wife and unborn son, but not his daughter. 

Francis quickly released my hair and pushed my into the room. He entered In behind me, heading straight for Olivia's bed. As I gained my composure he reached down, picking something up. 

He held a single piece of paper in front of his eyes, but it fell from his hands. It glided to the floor, mere feet away from me, allowing me to read it. 

'I ran away' was all it said, but that was enough.

Looking back up, I saw Francis set himself into full gear as he ran towards me. He pulled me by my hair out of the room and unlocked the nursery. I was harshly pushed into the room, with no warning what so ever. 

"Stay here," Francis demanded.

The door was slammed in front of my face, and I heard the door knob lock. Footsteps echoed up the stairs from the living room, followed by the opening and closing of a door. Seconds later a car door was slammed shut and an engine revved. 

I sat back and gripped my side, trying to ignore the pain and irony of the situation. The one room I had never been allowed in was now my prison, but I wouldn't let that last for long.