'No! Don't hurt her! Please, just leave her alone!'

'I don't want to hurt her! She's mine as well; she's my daughter too! Just let her come to me, and everything will be okay!'

'NO! She's mine! I have custody, you don't! You're an unfit parent! THEY TOLD YOU! THEY TOLD YOU THAT! Leave Kara alone! I'm calling the police if you don't go away within ten seconds!'

'I was an unfit parent. I'm not now, I promise!' The man smirked to himself. He continued his pounding on the door with one hand, but crossed the other one behind his back. Sometimes being behind a door had its upside.

'8, 7, 6.'

'LET ME IN! I WON'T GO AWAY UNTIL YOU DO!'

'3, 2, 1.'

'LET ME IN!' In frustration, he brought his leg into contact with the door. Twice. Three times. It swung open violently, and he saw his wife with the phone in her hand, his daughter behind her, clutching at her legs, gazing at him fearfully. He pulled a gun out of his pocket, 'drop the phone. Now.'

* * * * *

'Nurse, she's in here.'

The doctor led the nurse into the room. She glanced over the woman. She didn't look good. 'Have you seen the extent of the injuries?' She asked.

'Her ribs are bruised, I've suspicions one of them may be cracked. Gun shot wound in her chest, he isn't very professional, I'd imagine. Far clear of her heart, or any major arteries.'

'Worse for wear, then,' sighed the nurse. 'I think it would probably be better to keep her under constant monitoring. Do you agree with my judgement, doctor?' She looked at him carefully. She was a new nurse, still getting used to working in a hospital.

He smiled at her wearily. 'Aye, I do.'

* * * * *

'Back off. Go on. Back, back.' His wife was obedient, but the daughter more reluctant. She'd probably have stood still, had her mother not dragged her backwards, saying something to her in a whisper that he couldn't hear. As he had no idea what she'd said, he was even more enraged, but his rage was also directed at his young daughter now.

'Don't hurt her.' his wife was no longer speaking, just mouthing the words at him. He kept his gun pointed at the two, whilst leaning down to her phone wires, taking a knife from his pocket and cutting the line. 'They can't help you now,' he laughed, sliding the knife back into his pocket.

The woman froze now. He was armed with more than just the gun. She went stiff, but clutched her little daughter to her. He edged towards his daughter, a cheesy but fake smile planted on his face.

'Kara. Kara, honey? Would you like to come with me? Would you like to come with your daddy?' He reached his arm out for the two year old. It looked for a moment like she was going to take it, but she slapped his hand instead.

'No! Me wants mummy!' She cried, clinging to her mother. Her fathers face fell, then looked dark and sinister.

'FINE THEN! FINE!' He screamed, wrenching his daughter from her mother's arms. Kara began to scream, and he slammed her onto the sofa. The screaming continued. 'SHUT UP!' He yelled. The screaming still continued. He glared at his wife and grinned, but it was triumphant. 'If I can't have her, no one can!' He declared, aimed the gun at the sofa, and pulled the trigger.

The screaming stopped. The sofa stained red.

* * * * *

Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip. That was the sound the woman awoke to at the hospital. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around, wondering what had happened, why she was there.

The nurse at her bedside was filing her nails. She glanced over at the woman suddenly, and smiled in a friendly manner, quick to slide the nail file back into her pocket. 'Hello, love, glad you're back with us.'

'Back. with us?' She croaked, trying to sit up but couldn't as she was overwhelmed with an immense pain in her stomach. She hadn't noticed it before, but now she knew it was definitely there. Pain overwhelmed her, and she clenched her fists.

'Yes, you've been out for a few days, now, darling.' The woman smiled sympathetically, feeling the woman's forehead for her temperature. She frowned. 'Let me go and get the thermometer.'

When her temperature had been checked (it turned out to be slightly above average temperature, but nothing dangerous), the nurse smiled at her. She asked her the question that the woman had been dreading. 'What happened?'

She swallowed, wondered how to get out of it. After catching her breath and swallowing a few more times, she began, 'Well, you see, what happened was.'

* * * * *

'KARA!' The woman screamed, running towards her husband, but the shot had already been fired. He turned to face her, only to realize that she was lunging at him. She grabbed his gun, and threw it onto the floor.

'Bitch!' He hissed, kicking her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, but it didn't stop him kicking her a few more times. She fell to the floor, hurt badly, and he snatched up his gun. 'Bye.' He snarled at her, taking one look at his wife, the one he thought that would be his last.

Again, he pulled the trigger, and there was a yell of agony.

* * * * *

'..and. well, you see.. That's. what happened.'

The nurse raised her eyebrow. 'You're sure that this was a burglar? It was no one familiar to you, who you knew at all?'

She nodded stubbornly. 'Of course I'm sure.'

'Seeing as he shot you. you could get the police in, they could be prosecuted.'

She considered for a moment, but finally shook her head. 'No. It's okay. I think I was a threat. I'm okay. I don't feel the need to prosecute. Thank you, anyway.'

The nurse smiled, but when the woman looked away, she frowned. She didn't feel that the woman was telling the truth, but couldn't push her. She sighed, wondering what had happened that made her unable to tell the truth - and what happened to make her feel that edgy about the woman's tale.

* * * * *

Six weeks later, the woman was in a completely new place. She was scared to go back to her house, in case her husband came. She was living in the house her parents had left to her when they moved away, a small, cramped place that she thought she'd never have to use. Their furniture still lived there, old and musty as they'd bought a house with furniture included.

She sat on the brown murky sofa, and reach into her pocket. She brought out her purse, reached into it and took out a photograph. Her only remaining autograph of her daughter. 'Kara.' She whispered. She looked at the picture for a long time, before clutching it to her heart as tears welled up in her eyes.

She didn't want her child to completely disappear, and indeed, she didn't. As she stared at the wall, she swore she saw her little girl sitting in the corner, crying, clutching a teddy bear. It broke her mothers heart and she started to break down completely, closing her eyes and wishing herself dead.

* * * * *

After seeing her daughter a lot, the woman wanted to do something. Always her daughter was in sadness, a pale, ghostly, sad young child. The woman wouldn't have minded had it not been for this constant sadness, the dark cloud hanging over her daughters head.

Thinking about her daughter, she walked, letting her legs go where they pleased. Eventually, she became aware of her surroundings and was shocked to find herself in front of her old house. Was it really so bad? Was it really so hard to go inside, to be back in her property? No. It couldn't be.

A trembling hand reached into her pocket, and she took out the key, sliding it into the lock. She turned it slowly, then sighed, relieved at finally seeing her own home once again. She walked inside smiling brightly, into her living room. She stared at the sofa, blood stains still there, a reminder of her fallen daughter. Her face fell, and she was ready to cry but was halted.

The door slammed behind her.

She spun around and her suspicions were confirmed. Her husband stood there, a grin over his face. 'I missed it one time,' he jeered. 'Do you think you'll have the luck a second?' The woman didn't answer, as she was frozen to the spot.

He laughed once again. Pulled out the familiar gun. He pulled down the trigger. His shot was true this time. He knew she was going to die as the bullet hit directly on with her heart. She made no noise, just stared at him accusingly before crumpling to the floor.

* * * * *

Had the woman still been there, somebody seeing her daughter, they would see a big difference. No longer a lonely, upset, miserable girl, a young infant cuddling up to her mother as happy as she could be, considering the circumstances. Both were smiling and cheerful; united, once again.