"Change is a great and horrible thing, and people love it or hate it at the same time. Without change, however, you just don't move." -Marc Jacobs

'~-Spencer-~'

July 8th, 2003

I relished in the warm summer breeze as I sat outside of my old home. I smiled, basking in the sunlight and watching as Angel moved the last piece of furniture into the moving van. Angel was an alter I had met two days ago while reading one of my books- she had come up to me, timidly asking me what I was reading.

"Okay, everything is set." She walked up to me, a tiny grin on her face.

"Thanks, Angel. I'll grab the kids, and we'll be on our way." I touched her shoulder comfortingly before entering the house one last time. Crystal and Derek were playing in the living room with their mini cars, laughing and chasing each other around.

"Alright, you two, it's time to go!" I held Derek in my arms while Crystal walked beside me to the van.

Forty-five minutes passed before we arrived at our new home, which was two stories with a finished basement. We cheered as we entered the driveway, hopping out of the vehicle and opening the back. One by one, Angel and I moved the pieces of furniture into the massive house.

"How about we go get ice cream after this?" I asked.

"That sounds good." Angel's voice was soft and silky as she moved a chair into the house.

It took us twenty minutes to fully unpack the furniture, our powers helping us on more than one occasion.

"Crystal, Derek, do you two want to go get some ice cream?" She grinned as the two children cheered.

I grabbed their tiny hands as we appeared at Coldstone™, and the four of us rushed inside.

Eventually, we headed home, the kids winding down from their sugar high. They settled into their separate rooms, which connected to the living room, and Angel and I walked upstairs to our master bedroom.

"I'll be right back," She told me, closing the door to the bathroom. I retrieved a book from one of the higher shelves, sitting down on our bed as I began to read it.

I glanced at the clock after twenty minutes, confused as to why Angel wasn't out yet. I set my book down and walked up to the wooden door.

I knocked. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." A strained voice answered from the other side, making it clear to me that I was no longer speaking to Angel.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." I opened the door to see the alter sitting, with her knees to her chest, against the wall. Her puffy eyes and smearing makeup made it clear that she had been crying. I sat down next to her, wrapping my arms around her torso.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"I- just-" She stuttered. "Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I feel his hands, his breath, and his body. It's killing me. Slowly, but surely it's destroying me from the inside out. I feel like I can't escape him and what he did to me."

"You remember what happened?"

"Yes, of course, I do. How could you forget something like that?" I paused.

"Okay, let me explain this to you quickly. You share memories with-"

"I know." The alter looks at me with guilt. "I've always known. I was seventeen when I looked up the disorder, and I had all of the symptoms. Plus, I knew what my initial trauma was. I just- didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh. Well, what's your name?"

"It's Emily." Emily was silent for a few moments.

"Are you comfortable with telling me what happened?" I rested my hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Where do I start?"

"What do you remember first?"

Emily took a moment to breathe.

"Waking up, chained to a bed. A man walked in, and... he looked just like my abuser- the one who caused me to form in the first place. I made him angry, so...." She trailed off, losing words as her mouth hung open.

"He hurt me. Called me names, made me feel worthless. He beat me, kept strangling me until I was on the edge of my life. I had to endure it every single day for two weeks. I don't even know how I escaped."

"You're not worthless because of whatever names he called you-"

"No, Spencer." Emily looked up at me, her voice wavering as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. She couldn't finish her sentence, resorting to closing her eyes and curling up further into her position.

In that moment I felt so helpless and stupid. Here was someone I cared about who was hurting, and even with my IQ of 187 I had no idea what was wrong. I took a deep breath.

Finally, after many long moments, Emily spoke up again.

"He... he raped me, Spencer." My breath hitched, my hands turning into fists.

"What." I was beyond angry- livid would be too mild of a term to describe my feelings. I had never hated someone more in that moment.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I'm just scared-" I cut Emily off by pulling her into a tight hug.

"No. Don't apologize. That wasn't your fault. Do you understand me?" My voice had never been more fierce, more firm.

Emily's phone buzzed, and when she pulled it out she stopped the timer.

"Hey, could you tell me how long it takes for women to show symptoms of pregnancy?"

"Well, it's different for everybody, but the average is three-to-six weeks. Wait, why are you asking?"

"I threw up yesterday and this morning. Plus, I'm late. It could be nothing, but... Spencer, if I'm pregnant, the chances of it being yours-"

"Are close to none, I know. It's going to be okay no matter what. Have you taken a test yet?"

"That's what the timer was for." Emily materialized the test, which was facing the floor.

I stared in disbelief as she flipped it face-up, the screen showing two bold, red lines.

New tears flowed from her beautiful eyes as she threw herself into my chest. Her cries turned into a sobbing-scream, muffled by my flannel top. All I could do was hold her in my arms as many different emotions mixed together through our brains.

She was pregnant, but the child wasn't mine.

"Motherhood: The only place you can experience heaven and hell at the same time."
-Unknown