Anika stood at the back of the cave, loosely gripping her spear and straining her eyes and ears. What was happening? She knew what was standing in front of her, but she didn't know who. It was like trying to pop a bubble that was slowly drifting out of her reach. Further and further it rose, catching on the sunlight, taunting Anika with its beauty. Why did she feel like this? Shouldn't she be worried, scared? Wasn't she in a pitch-black, freezing cold cave with a tiger of some description standing in front of her? At any moment she knew she may take a breath that would be her last, but still she stood calmly, facing her foe.

She reached up a hand to push away a sweaty strand of hair hanging over her eyes. She could see. That alone was amazing, as moments before it had been as dark as anything. But what made her amazement increase was what she saw. Anika didn't see a tiger in front of her, she saw...

At the same time...

Tara sat up in her cold bed. The wind screamed outside, just as she was in her mind. Something had forced her awake. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and patterned to the window. With a heave she pushed it shut. The sound of the wind calmed a little, but was still audible. Tara walked a few paces to the door and lay her hand on the cold, metal handle. The door creaked open and Tara stepped into the dark hallway. The carpet muffled her footsteps but her breathing still sounded loud in the silence of night. She pushed her way through another door that led to the kitchen.

Tara grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured an icy drink of water from the fridge. She sat on a stool at the bench and drained the cup with one gulp. Her thirst quenched, she tossed the cup into the sink with a clunk. Tara froze, listening for any sound that would betray the disturbance of sleep, but the night remained calm. With a sigh Tara slid off the stool and advanced towards her bedroom.

Inside her room, Tara shook her head. Before, she hadn't noticed the heat in her bedroom. A broken fan hung from her ceiling. She would never sleep in there. Making up her mind, she grabbed her pillow, a rug and her teddy bear, Tara made her way downstairs to the lounge room.

The moon shine through the sliding glass doors that led outside from the lounge room. A leather couch lay in front of the television. Tara tossed her pillow on the end of the lounge and lay down, pulling her blanket into place. It was much cooler down here, and Tara wished for sleep. However it never came. Hours and hours dragged by, and Tara tossed and turned , one moment kicking her blanked off and the next pulling it back on. All the while, tears seeped out of her tired eyes. She was too tired to stop them. She had been too often lately. She didn't care how stupid she looked, the only people who would see would be her grandparents. She had no one else around her.

Tara thought back on the previous days. The phone had been ringing non-stop. As she would never answer it, messages were left and Tara herd everyone of them. They were most often "Tara!!! What's wrong? We haven't seen you in half a year now! Please talk to us! We're so worried about you. Don't forget that you have us, your friends, to talk to if your upset. Call me back, please!". Those messages didn't make her feel better, they just made her more upset. Surely her friends knew what had happened to her. It was all over the paper, on the news, everywhere. Tara pushed away the thought, and rolled over, still searching for sleep.

The hands on her watch ticked towards midnight. A soft ding sounded as they struck twelve. Tara pushed herself up to a sitting position and looked around. She studied the room. Nothing was out of place. It was if the whole room was holding its breath. The fan whirred lazily above her, occasionally stirring a piece of paper lying on the coffee table. It fluttered to the ground. Every trace of sleep was immediately gone. Tara jumped up and snatched up the piece of paper. The letter had been read and re-read hundreds of times. It was the only thing that Tara cared about anymore, and the thing that most often stirred up tears. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, Tara skimmed the letter again. But she focussed on the final line. "from your parents."

A tear dropped from Tara's face and landed right on the last line of the letter. After the first, many more came.

Behind bars.