Tabitha was home, warm and safe. She could see her modest room in order with her amazing bed against an open window. In the moon light, the cat was illuminated as she slept. Careful foot placement brought her down stairs without even a squeak. Not that she needed to bother, her father was awake writing something important or another. Never before had she cared much for what he did. Yet, the overwhelming desire to care filled her. Turning her eyes instead to the kitchen, she approached it and could just smell her mother's cooking. It had been ten years since she lost her and her father didn't cook.

Analyzing what was wrong with the picture jolted her out of the oblivion she had passed comfortably into. Looking around dully, the only small golden thread of hope she could grab on to was that the moment no one was screaming.

Choking down a sob, the young woman just blinked then looked down. The floor around her was intimately familiar to her as she had spent most her waking hours staring at it. There was one scuff mark made on her first hour here. There had been a thought, mark the days that passed.

Why that seemed like a good idea escaped her now. It was impossible to tell how long she had been in the cage. Mostly she was passed out due to energy drain and the shear drain of crying. There wasn't much for anyone to take when they tried, all her energy fled in the terms of tears. What did they want from her? Even now, the answer alluded her.

Guine