Broken Heart:
Shortie by Lone Wolf
Ashley Williams "Origins" Series

~You just turn to your guardian angel~

	Tabitha is my best friend in the world. It doesn't matter to me that 
she rocks the other boat, she's always been a good friend and she will 
forever be. She was one of the first people I got close to when I joined the 
Hunters. The negaskunkette has helped me whenever I needed it and I have 
always returned the favor.

	The story of how she came to be with the Hunters is the saddest of 
them all. She is a refugee, not from some third world country, not some 
illicit prostitution ring, but from her own home. She has recieved some 
really horrible scars that will never, ever go away. So I warn you now, you 
may not like what you're about to hear. But you must realize that it is 
true, that these sorts of things happen all the time.

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	My name is Tabitha Evans. I am a 25 year old Huntress. I've got many 
friends, some of whom you know, and some you don't. I was born in December, 
so that makes me a Sagittarius. I'm a lesbian and very proud of it. But I'm 
also a shattered heart, a broken soul. I was forced to endure too many 
horrible things at once that almost cost me my life. It all happened when I 
was 16.

	I had never really loved my stepfather. He was always harsh on me. I 
understand that some parents will say that it's tough love, and I'll agree 
with them; in some cases, it is. But that's only to a degree. His 
"disciplinary" beatings were far too often and far too long. It was often to 
the point of abuse. I knew that he wanted something out of me, but my mother 
was there, and because of her, it never got really really bad.

	Then she died.

	When I was 16, two days away from my birthday, my mother lost her 
battle with cancer. It had slowly been eating her away, and one day her 
heart just gave in. She died peacefully, as I had hoped, in her sleep. I was 
the one to get the call from the hospital that evening. And it was my duty, 
unfortunately, to tell my stepfather.

	Needless to say, he wasn't too happy about the news. I got slapped 
around a bit, but endured it as I usually did. He didn't like the fact that 
- and these are his words exactly - "not only did he have to pay for a 
funeral now," he "was left to take care of a bunch of worthless piles of 
crap." That was his less than affectionate term for me and my brothers. I 
should have taken that as a warning sign and gotten the hell out of there.

	But I didn't.

	The funeral was beautiful. Even though she was half eaten alive by the 
cancer, even though she looked frail, mother was still beautiful. The 
funeral home had done an excellent job laying her out for all to view. 
People I hadn't seen since my mother re-married were there, crying over our 
loss. And, not too surprisingly, my stepfather was nowhere in sight. That 
seemed to make the pain worse.

	I returned home around six that evening. I was still sniffling over 
the whole event and decided to go right to bed. Obviously that was not going 
to happen. 
	"Tabitha," my father's vile voice called to me. "Can you come into the 
living room for a moment?" I froze for a second. His voice, normally hoarse 
and hasty, was eerily calm. I knew that if I delayed, I wouldn't survive the 
night. I hurried into the living room and stood in front of him.
	The vile thing was slouched in his arm chair. He looked me over one, 
took a sip from his beer bottle, and frowned. "Where the hell have you 
been?"
	I hesitated. "Um...mom's funeral."
	He made one of those sick-cutsy faces. "Oh isn't that sweet. You 
should have been here, bitch, cooking my meal."
	I jerked. "E-excuse me?"
	He got to his feet. "Don't you excuse yourself! Now that your mother 
is dead, you're the female of the house. You gotta stay here and do 
everything she did."

	I could feel Fate's hand on my shoulder. I was never really a brave 
girl. I often cowered behind my bedroom door as he went around the house 
wailing and bitching about everything that didn't go his way. But I had also 
seen how he treated my mother - like a slave. I would not allow myself to 
fall for that destiny. It was time.

	"No," I said calmly.
	He blinked. "WHAT?!"
	"Mom loved you. That's why she slaved for you, even when she was 
dying. She always tried to please you and you never returned the love. As 
far as I'm concerned, you can care for yourself." That would have done it. 
But I was foolish. "I'm not here to wipe your ass for you."
	His fist came across my face. I kept my balanced for a few seconds 
before his other fist came and knocked me to the ground. "You're a bitch, 
just like your mother." He kicked me in the stomach. Instinctually, I curled 
up. "That ain't gonna help you bitch!" He went, grabbed a wooden broom my 
mother used to use, and started to beat me with it. He got me to where I was 
on my back, unable to defend myself. "And since you ain't my blood..." He 
reached down, grabbed my dress, and tore it off my body. "I'll get from you 
what your mother was never able to provide."

	That was the day I lost my sense of reality. That was the day I no 
longer new innocence. That was the day I lost my virginity.

	He started to molest me, grabbing me between blows to the face and 
stomach. He touched me how nobody should ever, not even those I trust. And 
then came the biggest insult of all. He got over me and started to rape me. 
He didn't care that he was tearing me up - literally. He just wanted to get 
in and get his pleasure. No words can describe the pain. 

	And he didn't stop once he had done his thing. He grabbed the broom 
handle and....

	I never can, and never will be able to remember what happened once he 
grabbed the broom handle. All I can remember after that is being on a 
stretch of concrete, clothes-less, and bleeding profusely. It was the middle 
of the night. I could hear the packs of animals starting to circle me. I 
groaned and tried to open my eyes. I could only manage my left eye, since my 
right was swolen shut. I could only see a faint light up ahead. I gathered 
what was left of my strength and agonizingly pulled myself along. I got 
maybe a good five feet - amazing now that I think about it - before my body 
gave. I kept telling myself that I didn't want to die, that I didn't want to 
go out like this. But I knew that stretch of pavement would be where I would 
spend my last moments alive.

	I could sense a bright light hit me. I could here people come over to 
my side. I heard voices - "She looks bad. What happened?" I felt myself 
lifted up. Was I ascending to heaven?

	I sat up in a bed. I was in a room. It was a cold place. Steel walls 
greeted my sight - my full sight. My right eye had been healed. The pain 
from the whole rape was minimal, but still there to make me think. I slowly 
got out of the soft resting place, still without clothes, and looked around. 
"This place...it looks familiar..." I moved slowly around a corner. There I 
found a bathrobe and a note on a table. I picked up the note and read:

"Put on the robe and go to the door. Ask whoever is there for Michael 
D'Ketra (pronounced Dee Ketra. Please get it right, I beg of you!)."

	I took the cotton robe in my hands and rubbed the material between my 
fingers. It had been freshly washed and softened. I put it on with only 
minor aches, tied it tight, and hobbled my way to the door. I opened it and 
looked out. A single wolf was leaning against the wall. He was looking 
towards the floor, deep in thought. I hesitated a bit before giving him a 
gentle shake. "Um...sir?"
	He looked up at me. "You're awake."
	"Y-yes. I found a note on the table, saying I should ask for a 
Michael...D...D'Katre?"
	He chuckled. "It's D'Ketra. And I'm the one you're looking for. 
Please. Step back inside and have a seat. I have a lot to discuss with you."

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	I have seen the records on Tabitha's arrival. It took surgeons five 
hours to repair the damage done to her. She lost nearly 2 pints of blood, 
which was a lot for her small frame. But our boys were able to save her. The 
whole incident left her scarred for life - both physically and emotionally. 
She will never be able to have kids because of what her stepfather did. And, 
more importantly, her trust in men was shattered.

	Three years after that happened, about two before I came to the 
Hunters, her brothers were reported dead of mysterious circumstances. Three 
days later, she found her stepfather and killed him in front of Michael, 
Savannah, and Johnathan. It was the defining moment in her life. Her trust 
in men was partially restored.

	"Hey, Ashley!" I heard Tabitha's voice call to me. I looked up from my 
paperwork to see what she wanted. She came over to me and sat down. "You 
busy?"
	"Not really," I responded. "Why?"
	She smiled. "They've got the new K-9 trainees for the K-9 unit." She 
smiled. "It's mostly huskies this time around." I chuckled. Since she had 
been raped and abused like that, she found relief in caring for everyone 
else, including our four legged companions.
	"Huskies?" I was a particular fan of that breed of dog. I smiled,
leaned over, and gave her a hug. "Thanks for telling me."
	"Wanna go see them now?"
	I put my pen down and got up. "That's like asking if Core is a bunch 
of assholes. Let's go."

	Tabitha is my best friend. Nothing can change that. She is my sister, 
the one who's watched over me since I started my career. And she is my 
family. She treats me like that, and I return the favor. She is as tradgic 
as the rest of us. But she proves that, even in the toughest of times, there 
is one thing we should all hold onto:

	"Hope."

END
Ashley Williams, Tabitha Evans, and Michael D'Ketra are © <([ Lone Wolf 
Studios ])>

Hurry back! I miss you already.
    - Tabitha Evans