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Only two days had passed since Mello had been removed from his home, taken away from his mother and family by the CPS. He was already eighteen, obviously not considered a child anymore. But the officers had no other choice, the boy was mentally ill and his mother was abusing her son daily. Mello had scars all over his small body, he was small because of malnourishment. The scars however, were both new and old, some so recent that they were still bleeding. According to the state, Mello Civel didnt exist. He had no records, no birth certificate, no schooling and had never even been to a hospital. It was surprising the boy could talk, but he was shy, so quiet that he seemed somewhat broken. And who wouldnt break, having to live with that devil women. Mello was yet to be diagnosed, but it was obvious that he didnt have the mentality of a so called normal person.

The first day away from home, Mello had to sleep at the police station. He was questioned, but the officers got nothing out of the boy. The same could be said for the next day, when Mello spoke to CPS. Not a word escaped from his lips. The boy would simply do as he was told, and then sit and stare at the ground. Or focus on something else, a picture or object in the room. It was noted that Mello never once looked up at his saviors, the bet was that the boy didnt even know what any of them looked like. He had no belongings and the clothes he wore, werent clean at all. The shirt he had was torn and smeared with blood, his pants werent pants at all. At least not any more, they were so shredded that now they were shorts. Mello had no shoes or socks, he simply had nothing.

Today, Mello was on his way to the institution. "A place to keep you safe, and make you better." One of the CPS workers had said, "Your mother wont know where you are, you will be safe." Mello had taken these words to heart, now he was riding in the police car. To the place that would keep him safe, a place she would never know about.

He silently repeated the sentence to himself, "Safe," he whispered, "She wont know where i am, im safe." Mello could hardly believe it, in fact, it couldnt be true. His mother always knew where he was, he couldnt escape her. She was not only in his head twenty for seven, but Mello thought that for sure, she would find him. The boy looked up, the corners of his eyes dotted with tears. He desperately wanted to ask the driver if it was true, that his mother would never in a million years find him. But fear crept up, it leaked out of his heart and muzzled his voice, his mouth, his everything. Mello bit his bottom lip, closed his eyes and prayed that he was now safe.

He stayed like that for the rest of the trip, when the car arrived at its destination and halted at the place called "MRI the Mental Institution," Mello finally opened his eyes and looked around. Truth was, Mello had never in his life seen a building so huge. Of course the police station was bigger, but this was different, the boy would be living here.

The police driver had turned off the engine and turned in his seat to face Mello, "Listen kid," the older man said, "You shouldnt be scared, theres nothing here that will hurt you. The people here are here to help you, to make you better. Do you understand?" But there was no response from the boy, who now had his face down and hands lying limp in his lap.

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The boys crying worsened, Mello buried his face within his hands and began to shout. "Shut the ******** up, just shut the ******** up. Ahhh, Aaah!!" The orderly didnt seem the least bit surprised when profanity was hollered, but the same couldnt be said for the cop. His mouth was dropped, and his eyes glazed over in surprise.

One of the orderly, a brown haired women, tried to comfort Mello by touching his shoulder. Again this action was completely wrong, the contact had the opposite effect on Mello. The boy flinched and threw himself entirely flat on the ground, Mello brought his knees to his chest and went into fetal position.

"We'r going to need a sedative." Said the women, "Quickly, go get one." A male in white shrubs nodded and hustled back into the building. "Bring a straitjacket too!" The women shouted after him, seeing the scars on Mello’s body she didnt want to take a chance. The brown haired orderly stood and went to face the officer, "We can take it from here, thank you for bringing him. If you have any files, please leave them with me."

"Its going to be alright," said remaining orderly, "Wer going to take good care of you."

The officer snapped to attention, "Oh, yeah. As a matter of fact i do have some papers to give you." He knelt, and unzipped the duffle bag. The cop pulled out a handful of manila envelopes, "This is all there is, but if you dont mind id like to ask a personal question."

"Yes, ask anything." Said the women, taking a moment to glance down at Mello.

"Id like to know the visiting hours for this patient, i dont like to getting to involved with victims but as you can see, he is a special case. I would just like to keep in touch and updated on his progress."

The women nodded, "I understand completely, but until he has been diagnosed. This boy will have no visitors of any kind, if you leave a contact number ill be sure to call you once the circumstances have changed."

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Mello's body became limp, starting at his legs then slowly working its way up to his arms and finally his head. Everything within the boy slackened and tapered off, he couldnt think and of course couldnt move.

"There, son." Said the male orderly, "See that wasnt so bad, your going to sleep for a while. And when you wake up, we will be right here to take care of you." Mello groaned, at the thought. But just as the man had said, he quickly fell into a deep, forced sleep.

The brown haired nurse stood up, and smiled. "I dont think we will be needing that straitjacket." She flipped through the boy's files, "His name is Mello, Mello Civel. He comes from an abusive mother and was basically a ghost to the system... Humm."

The man collected Mello from the ground, "Damn, he doesnt weigh a thing." he remarked, looking shocked.

"He shouldnt," said the nurse, "It says here she starved him, says he wouldnt eat for three or four days at a time."

"Jesus," said the other female orderly, "The poor dear."

The brown haired women picked up the duffle bag and handed it to her female assistant, "Give him his own room, number 013 should be free and clean. Just make sure to lock the door before you leave him, who knows the kind of trouble he might get into ."

"Yes ma'm." the two echoed, and followed their boss into the building.

Gitana Chantelle

Three hours, she had had three hours of freedom and then it was ripped away from her, torn from her hands like the life she couldn't remember living. She fought them tooth and nail when they found her but they took a syringe and filled her up with poisen it made her week, made her helpless, like a newborn kitten all she could do was whimper pitufully.

The police had gotten a call from a couple in the early am hours, the voice on the line was weak and pained, "Hello, we need help our daughter..." the voice faded into nothingness.

"Hello, sir are you there, your daughter is she hurt does she need help, what has happened. Sir, I need you to speak to me."

The voice came back again obviously struggling to speak"...stabbed, she stabbed us we need help..." The voice faded again then returned again weaker than before "...don't know where she is...has large knife...could come back...carefull...dangerous...confrontational..." the voice faded in and out before fading away completly.

"Help is on the way sir, I need you to stay on the line with me." the line was silent, no breathing, no noise, nothing, "Sir, are you still there. Sir, I need you to stay awake and speak to me."

With in minutes there were police cars, an ambulance, and two fire trucks at a small nondescript rural house. They tried the door and were suprised to find it unlocked. the police entered first guns drawn watchfull for any movement when they signeled all clear the paramedics hurried up to the bedroom that the police signaled them to. To say the least they were shocked, the bed seemed to be soaked in blood as did the clothes on the two people lying apon the bed. The parmedics were cleaning and bandaging the wounds in the ambulance when the woman woke up, "My daughter where is my daughter..." her voice faded as she passed back in to nothingness.

Police where dispatched to locate the girl, using pictures they had found in the house to allow them to identify her. The police where alerted the girl was armed and dangerous as they set out to find her.