"You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing"
- Because of You, Kelly Clarkson

Kim curled up on the couch, watching the steady light on the answering machine. She hoped he'd call. The glass felt cool in her hand and she took another sip, barely feeling the burn anymore. Outside, it was night and inside she chose to sit in the dark. In front of her on the table was a bottle of sleeping pills - prescription strength because after her dad's death she stopped sleeping.

She hadn't chosen to stay up at night, but after that the world was not the same. Nightmares plagued her and she thought she could get through it by just smiling through the day and breaking quietly at night. Her doctor said it was a natural reaction, a grieving period, but she needed her sleep. That was months ago, the bottle was still full, she chose to suffer through what was happening.

Chase caught her drinking during the day, after which things went downhill rapidly. Angie was in her room, she knew where she was, just taking a moment, only a little stressed, slightly weary, tired but not sleepy. He asked, of course he would ask, and she said she was fine, because she was, this was just normal mourning, everyone goes through this and maybe it was taking her a little longer than it should but she had time.

In the middle of the night as she watched television she also heard noises, began thinking she heard clicks on the phone, watched carefully anyone talking to Angie, anyone walking by them. She became easily startled. Everyone was in danger. Her family curse.

Everyone gone, mom, dad, her childhood, her innocence and hope for the future. She mourned the brother or sister she never met, memories that would never come again, but she refused to cry, wouldn't cry, and her smile edged on manic at times. Chase worked more and more and more, and stopped trying to pull her up, stopped asking how she was or if she wanted to talk and at night she sat in the living room and watched TV or looked over old photographs or drank slowly. Until she slipped past everyone, letting him think it was his choice to leave.

She didn't want to bring another child into this, refused to let him touch her, not that she told him any of the reasons - it was only a matter of time before he gave up. And this, this was bottom.

The pills on the table beckoned to her like the tell-tale heart. She had to take enough to get past her body's natural reactions, her defense mechanisms, and then she wouldn't have to feel anything ever again.

He was gone. No one to hide from now, no one left to trust or distrust. She wore yoga clothes for pajamas, zipping up the jacket and curling into herself more, she didn't want to live in the past but the future was non-existent. The house was stifling, too large to be in alone, but she didn't want to go anywhere else, couldn't think of anywhere else to go.

Except away. Forever. She'd call Carol, but Carol would only make her feel worse and oh God she wanted her mom, she'd make any deal to see her mom again, just to be held, just to feel safe and loved and protected. She picked up the pills and ran her thumb over the label. Years ago she couldn't mourn her and now she mourned everything, remembering every day that she was an orphan, that her parents were long gone. She'd never hear her dad's laugh again, see his smile, know that no matter what was happening he was out there. And he died for the others, died without even saying goodbye or telling her he was in LA or...anything.

So easy to end it, she'd never hear Angie call her 'mommy' again, never hear Chase say her name, never hear her dad say 'sweetheart' in that way only he could. All she had were ghosts.

Instead, she let the pills fall out of her hand and onto her lap. She reached for the phone, dialing a number, noticing that her fingers were trembling.

"Miriam...it's Kim and it's late I...." She blinked and started to reach for her glass again.

"Kim, what's wrong?"

Miriam had become like a grandmother, but this was the first time she called her, it was always the other way around.

"Can I come over?" Small voice, weary, close to tears.

"Are you okay to drive?" Not talking about the hour or telling her to wait until morning, just pure concern.

"I - I don't know. I just feel very..."

"Stay there, Chris or I will be right over, don't do anything stupid, okay...dear?"

"Okay," she kept looking at the pills, holding the phone tighter, wondering if it was or would ever be enough.

END

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