Shayla Kenntington stared at the smooth wood railing in front of her. Above her, the voices of her mother, father, their lawyers, and the judge droned on, fading into one loud noise that made Shayla uncomfortable.
Her parents were divorced and they were currently fighting over custody of Shayla, who was only 10. It had been a long, tense battle.
"I award joint custody to Mr. Kenntington and Ms. LaRosa," the judge announced. "Six months of the year, Shayla will spend with Mr. Kenntington. The other six months will be spent with Ms. LaRosa."
Shayla walked out of the courtroom with her grandmother, followed by her father and his lawyer, and her mother, new stepfather, and her mother�s lawyer.
That night, Shayla cried herself to sleep. She didn�t like her new stepfather and wished she could spend the entire year with her father.
Shayla�s sleep was restless and disturbed. Haunting images paraded through her dreams.
Until a voice stood out over all of it.
"You�ll be ok. I�ll be here for you."
Those words were whispered in a voice she wasn�t familiar with, yet knew. It was soft, smooth, a beautiful voice she fell in love with.
"I�m sorry, Shayla," Michael Kenntington told his 14 year old daughter. "Your mother and her husband died in a plane crash this morning."
Shayla burst into tears. Her father hugged her.
"It�ll be ok," he whispered, but Shayla didn�t hear his voice. She heard another voice, carried on the wind, that told her the same thing. It was the same voice that had comforted her the night the trial ended.
She heard that voice again that night. "Everything�ll be ok," it told her. She was never able to see who it belonged to, but the voice was comforting enough. "I�m here for you."
The funeral came. That night, Shayla dreamed again.
Finally, a face accompanied the voice. He was handsome, with a curly blonde hair and blue eyes. He was smiling at her, although the smile was somewhat sad.
"Don�t worry. You�ll survive this."
"We are gathered here today to celebrate the live and pay our respects to John Michael Kenntington. He was a great man..."
Shayla didn�t hear anything else the preacher said. She was in shock. Her father was dead. Killed in a drunk driving accident. On the day she graduated from high school. And she didn�t know until after she�d returned home from all of the graduation parties, at three in the morning, to find her father�s sister waiting for her.
"Shayla," she had said, "your father�s...."
Shayla didn�t need to hear the rest of what her aunt had said to know her father was dead.
She couldn�t cry, not when she found out, or now, at the funeral. Her tears had all been shed long ago.
He was in her dreams again.
"Don�t be afraid to cry. Don�t hold all of those emotions in." He smiled, once again sadly, at her.
Shayla bolted up in bed. Her curtains were open, and the moonlight was streaming in, illuminating the room.
She buried her face in a pillow and cried.
"I hate you, bitch," Eric Tyler said, raising a hand to punch Shayla. "You mother fucking bitch. Won�t sleep with me, will you? I�ll teach you to deny me." He pushed her to the ground and continued to punch her. Shayla was screaming. He silenced her with his punches and proceeded to rape her.
He left her, naked and battered, in the gutter of the cold winter streets of Los Angeles.
His mocking laughter was the last thing Shayla heard before she blacked out.
His voice was speaking above her and Shayla wondered how she could hear him in her comatose state.
Maybe I�m dead, she thought.
"Her pulse is back to normal," he said. "And her temperature is close to normal." Shayla felt him place her wrist down.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
He was standing right next to her bed.
"You�re awake!" he exclaimed.
"Where am I?" Shayla tried to ask. But no words came out.
He leaned closer to her. "What did you say?"
"Where am I?" Shayla managed to whisper.
"At UCLA Medical Center," he told her. "I found you two days ago while walking home."
"Thank you," she whispered. "Who are you?"
"I�m Justin Timberlake. And since I�m only an intern, let me go get the doctor," he told her. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Don�t worry, everything will be ok."
He walked out of the room.
Shayla leaned back against the pillows, truly smiling for the first time in three years, since her father had died. She had finally found someone who�s always been there for her. Everything would be ok after that.