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She was hysterical as her voice finally died out, her throat hoarse from the scream.
Oh, God... She dropped the offending shirt she'd been holding as if it were a flame that burned her skin. She had to get out of here, out and to Chris... Chris would help her. He would rescue her from this madness.
Trish's brown eyes grew wide as she suddenly realized something... The water from the shower in the bathroom had been running. Its drone had been so soft, she'd barely even been aware of it. But it had stopped, and she heard the sound of someone's movements within.
She was breathing fast and heavily as the handle on the door began to give way. Christ... He was coming out - probably to get her, torment and rape her again!
The door opened, and the tiny blonde squeezed her eyes shut, hands outstretched as though warding off the boogieman.
Christian, a towel swathed around his hips, emerged from the bathroom. His blue eyes widened as he took in the fright on Trish's face and in her posture. She'd been sound asleep on the bed when he'd gotten up to shower. He figured she must have had a bad dream or something.
"Baby, are you okay?" he asked, concerned as he inched toward her.
The blonde's eyes snapped open - widely, and the Canadian man frowned at what he saw. She was most definitely terrified.
"No... L-leave me alone!"
"Trish?" Christian's frown deepened as he took another step closer to her.
"Don't come near me!" she cried, tears forming in her brown eyes. Those orbs darted back and forth as she surveyed the room, as though seeking a means of escape. She resembled a deer caught in headlights.
"What? Trish, honey, what is it? What's wrong?" he implored, his heart nearly breaking at the idea of her fearing him. He would never hurt Trish, never.
The diva backed away from him, her breathing ragged as she turned her head quickly from side-to-side. She located something with which to use as a weapon and snatched it up.
"Back off!" she spat, and the blonde man winced at her words and the way she was wielding the wickedly spiked, heeled boot.
"Trish..." he said, managing somehow to keep his voice level, soft and calm. "Baby, please tell me what's wrong... I-I want to *help* you."
"Fuck you!" she yelled, her lovely face furious. Her teeth grittedn as she glared at the offensive short-haired blond man.
Christian winced as her curse struck his ears. He didn't understand... What had gotten into Trish? She was acting more than peculiar - crazy.
"Sweetie, I don't-"
"And you *won't*, either!" she shrilled, angry enough to hurl herself at him to rake his eyes out with her long, manicured nails. Instead, her demeanor returned to its previous terror, and the petite woman turned and fled from the hotel room.
The blonde diva ran down the hallway in a mad dash, her mind whirling. She turned and found herself in front of the hotel room she knew someone very important to her was staying in. Her mind made up, she began to frantically knock.
"Come on - be there... be there..." she cried in a mantra.
The door opened a moment later, and a pair of hazel eyes examined her for a beat, concern on the face of their owner.
"Trish..." Lita didn't bother voicing any questions as she instantly ushered the other woman inside.