Chapter One

The light kept blinking at me from the night stand, my alarm clock angrily telling me that I had stayed in bed too long. Grudgingly, I shut it off, and rolled out of bed almost knocking my foot against my lazy tabby. She lay slumped on the floor like a bag of potatoes. ‘MooMoo,’ I cooed to her. ‘Time to get up.’ MooMoo rolled over on her side refusing at all cost to actually move. Whatever. The cat never listened anyway. The only really useful thing the cat had ever done was catch a mouse and parade it around like a glorious victory and even that had been years ago. Now MooMoo was lazy and fat, occupying herself by sleeping wherever the sun was shining. Not that I blamed her, when I would do the same thing given the chance. I however, was not a cat and classes beckoned. I ran out of the house to greet the day, a smile forced upon my face.

 

I hurried down the sidewalk of my street, attempting to recover lost time. My house however resided on the far end away from campus, and was an unfortunate problem on mornings like these. The house I lived in, and had lived in for the past two years reeked of stale old furniture and wasted drunken memories. Some of them were mine, though I had not had many parties in the past few months. Instead, I filled my nights with studying and finishing off old bottles of liquor afterwards. The house sat a few blocks from the university, but it was far enough from the hustle and bustle of student life, so that I could enjoy peace and quiet, which of lately, I have so desperately needed. Time to be somber and time to not think. Time to recover from the hell that had been the last twenty-two years of my life. I was twenty-two.

 

When the student union came into view, I had four minutes left before its official start. I could make it I told myself�"just walk a little faster. Suddenly, someone grabbed me from behind, forcing me to let out a rather hideous scream.

“What the hell!” I cried.

“Guess who,” taunted a young man, laughing.

“David, I’m going to kill you. I’m already late,” I complained. I twisted out of the man’s arms and turned around to face my boyfriend of one and half years. Staring at him was quite a task though. David was tall�"scarily tall. I loved that about him. Long, brown hair hung it front of his eyes turning out in little wisps. He reminded me of someone who would play the guitar in a garage rock band. Goofy and crazy. And he was mine.

“Skip. Come eat breakfast with me,” he offered. He ran his fingers through my hair�"something he always loved to do.

“Seriously though, I should go.”

“I haven’t seen you in days.”

“I’ve been busy.” This was a lie. I had spent the last few days staying home, and binge-watching Netflix. I also didn’t want to be around him or anyone for that matter, but I wouldn’t tell him that. 

"When, can I see you? I miss you," he moaned while leaning far over to kiss me on the mouth.

"Tonight." He kissed me again.

"Promise?"

"Yes, but I have to go now." David gave me one last final squeeze before letting me go. I sprinted the rest of the way to class, walking in five minutes late, sweaty, and out of breath. 

Thanks to David, I had to do the awkward shuffle of moving around people to an open spot in the middle of the lecture hall while other students tried adjusting to allow me more room. Sorry, sorry, I whispered under my breath. At last I reached my seat, but after all that effort I could not concentrate on the lecture. David invaded my mind. A part of me felt bad for pushing him away lately. Part of me wanted to push him away altogether. But I enjoyed the comfort he gave me. When I needed him, he was there. Always. Always there. Even when I didn't need him. Even when I didn't want him.

 

Mommy, where is Kat-wyn?

Sweetie, Katelyn went away. I already told you this. Go to bed now.

Where did she go?

I don’t know.

Is she happy?

I think so.

Will she come back?

No. Go to bed.

Will we see her again?

Maybe. Yes. Of course. Now go to bed.

Good night mommy.

Good night sweetie.

Mommy?

Yes?

I love you.

I love you too, Marissa.

David gave me stress in my life--that was certain. But it was my mother who caused the most. Even after leaving the town I had grown up in and had gotten away, I felt her presence in every part of my life. I couldn't get rid of her no matter how hard I tried or how many shots I put down. She was never an abusive mother in the active sense, but I couldn't help but feel I had lost a part of me in my childhood and could never get back. It was when I seven, soon after my older sister Katelyn drowned herself with a bottle of codeine, that my mother withdrew into her own little world. The only friends she let in were vodka, whiskey, and prozac. I guess she loved me. I could never tell.