BETHANY

2

For some reason, Will blamed himself for the disappearance of his cousin. Nobody knew why, certainly nobody blamed him. Yet he felt that if he had been quicker, if he hadn't just stood and watched, then he could have saved her. So every night Will went and stood in a corner. Every night before bed, he would go and stand in the corner.

Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fourty-four seconds. That's how long Will had been going to the corner every night before bed. His Mother said he didn't have to go and stand in the corner. But Will still went to the corner. It was his fault Beth was gone and sitting in a corner for the rest of his life wasn't a good enough punishment in his mind.

He barely remembered Beth. He had only been five years old.

When Beth had been declared dead after she was taken, Quinn had been in tears. Chloe and Kieran never smiled and had sunken into depression. All the pictures that had Beth in them had been taken away and stored in the attack to collect dust. Not forgotten. Not neglected. Just ignored. Like a bad dream.

Because that's all it was for Will. He barely remembered anything. He barely remembered how the house would be filled with laughter and the explosions coming from Chloe and Kieran's room. But now the room remained silent. Will missed the loud noises that had once filled his home. Just like he missed Beth, the cousin he barely remembered, but always thought about.

Quinn's family photo still hung on the kitchen wall. It was the only thing that had a picture of Beth on it that hadn't been stuffed in the attic. Will didn't believe she was dead. Beth was strong and brave. She was probably travelling. Will would wonder where his lost cousin was traveling to. What she had seen. What stories she would have.

Beth was not gone. Just lost.

Her disappearance wasn't forgotten. Just ignored.

Because that was all these ten long years had been for Will.

A bad dream.

Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fifty seconds.
Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fifty-one seconds since Beth was taken.
Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fifty-two seconds since Chloe and Kieran had last smiled.
Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fifty-three seconds since Will had been going to the corner.
Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fifty-four seconds since April and Danielle came home to help.
Ten years, three months, one week, twenty hours, eight minutes and fifty-five seconds since Quinn's heart was broken.

IN AN UNKNOWN LOCATION...

A fifteen year old girl sat in front of a vanity, combing her long black hair into soft curls. As she combed, she hummed. A strange, haunting tune. Her gentle humming was broken sharply by the sound of a knock on the door. The girl jumped and turned around, standing up in the process and dropping her comb. "C-come in!" The door opened to reveal a short but large man. With a slight gasp the girl dropped into a curtesy.

"Angel," he spoke slowly, "yer Father is 'ere. 'E wants ta see ya." She nodded and rose from the curtesy only to have a hand meet her face. Angel gasped but didn't move. "Di' I say ya coul' rise?"

"No Sir." She whispered. Tears began to prick her eyes but she forced them back. Her gaze stayed firmly on the ground.

"Ge' outta 'ere!" Angel nodded quickly and ran from the room.

She ran down several corridors and passageways until she reached the largest room there was. Pausing only to catch her breath, Angel knocked lightly on the door. "Come in!" Taking a deep breath, the girl pushed open the door and entered the room.

"Father," she greeted dropping into a curtesy and ducking her head. She heard a loud sniff.

"Stand Angel." The teenager did so. Her bright, green eyes met his dull, brown ones.

"Happy Birthday Father." It came out only a little louder than a whisper. The room descended into silence. Angel looked away and back at the ground. She noticed idly, that it was clean. Almost sparkling. The floor seemed to be looking up at her, laughing at her.

"You dare speak out of turn?" Her Father's voice broke the silence. Angel nearly, nearly, flinched, but she held herself together. He crossed the room in three quick strides, to where Angel was standing. "Look at me." She didn't. "Look at me!" She did flinch this time, but still kept her eyes firmly on the ground. "I SAID LOOK AT ME!" Startled, she looked up at him and reeled back seeing the anger in his eyes. A sharp scream came from her mouth as he grabbed onto her hair and yanked her head back so she couldn't look away. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand me Angel Flint?!"

She wanted to nod but couldn't. "Yes Sir. I understand Sir." He let go of her hair and her head fell down. She whimpered, a few tears escaping her eyes.

"You will be punished later Angel. Get out of my sight." She nodded and quickly ran from the room.

Jerome Flint watched her go with a cruel smirk on his face. The same man from earlier entered through a back door. "Do you see Gray? This is the Head Police Officer's daughter. Reduced to that." Gray nodded with a sneer. "I wonder what he would say if he could see his precious daughter now. Bethany Marie Wilson, nothing more than a prostitute. Ha! I've half a mind to send him a picture." He laughed and left the room through the back door. Gray followed after a few seconds.

Neither realised that just around the corner, with her back against the wall, tears streaming down her face, was Angel. Or rather...Bethany.

The young girl was shaking, the handprint leftover from the slap, bright red on her pale cheeks. Her once bouncy, black hair was limp and bedraggled. Her eyes had lost the shine they used to hold. Pale as a ghost, her eyes stood out on her face. "My name is Bethany Wilson?" She whispered and just like that, everything she had ever known seemed to crash and burn as quickly as the tears fell down her face. "No. No I'm Angel. I am Angel. I. Am. Angel."

She gasped and bent forwards her head in her hands. Tears fell down from her eyes and she sobbed desperately. "Miss Flint?" Bethany shot upright, wiping away her tears in one fluid motion and turning her back to the young servant. "Can I help you Miss Flint?"

Beth shook her head. "No- no. Continue with your work. I will be fine." She could tell the servant didn't move. "Go!" Still no movement. Beth turned round.

"Beth?"