I'll never know what possessed me that night. I'll never know why I got so enraged and I'll never know why I ran away from him. Perhaps the realization of everything I had done over the months came back and had driven me over the edge. Or perhaps my true feelings had been bottled up for too long.

I clenched my fists and stared him down. Before he got too close I stepped in his direction and forced him to walk backwards. "I'm in trouble? What about you huh? Everything that happened on the tour, am I in trouble for that too? Was that my fault? We're still in hot water for that! Sor-ry for not telling you one damn thing! I couldn't 'cause we had to settle something you did!"

"We're not in hot water anymore!"

"She's still pissed, it's obvious!"

"She said it was behind us, why are you still upset?" That was it. Everything I had done resurfaced and I welled up. My hands and knees found the floor and my face was soaked within seconds. Two voices were talking with each other but I couldn't hear a word they said. I couldn't stop shaking and my breaths were sharp hiccups.

What had I done? Going behind a woman's back like that? That wasn't who I was. I felt dirty, and the voice inside my head made sure of it. A pair of hands were placed on my shoulders. Shaking my head, I bolted. Neither one should have seen the state I was in, but maybe I deserved to be humiliated.

I ran outside as fast as my feet could carry me. Anywhere. Anywhere but there. I was mortified, terrified, and just plain out of it. Hoping they wouldn't follow me, I ran a few blocks out. A couple streetlights lit my way but the cloudy sky offered no light.

The voice in my head told me to run. Run faster. You're an idiot! An idiot for running away! What are you gonna do by yourself out here? Don't stop until you're gone! Mike was right! Mike was right about you all along! What have you done?

The streets were no longer familiar. The houses were completely strange to me. It had to have been past midnight by now. Every once in a while a car would honk or a dog would bark at me. I was sweating from running and stress, but shivering with fear. Fear of what?

Fear of nowhere to go? Fear of Ellen? Fear of my actions and the person I became?

Yes.

I found a church on a hill some yards away. I didn't think any of them went to church too often so they wouldn't find me here. The doors had freezing metal knobs and there was little heat in the sanctuary. Stained glass lit up the room. Pictures of Jesus and Bible quotes surrounded me. Maybe this was a bad idea...

My crying was nowhere near finished. I sat in a pew and just let out the silent sobs. I felt guilty for everything. For the tour, yelling at Angus, running away, everything. Surely by now the whole band knew of my sudden disappearance.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

I looked up. A woman with silver hair stood over me. Her red lips were smiling, but her brown eyes shone with concern. What was she doing here at this time? Probably thought the same of me.

Do I tell her everything? I've never seen this woman before in my life. And what on earth could she do to help? But poor help was better than none.

"S-something's hap-happened," I hiccupped.

"I'll bet." A tissue brushed across my face and my hair was pushed behind my ear. "Not too good huh?" I didn't answer. Her hands were tattooed all over, but the sleeves of her robe covered them. It was a shawl of some sort. Close to a burqa, but not quite. "My name is Monica, I was just about to leave. I'm glad I caught you."

I rubbed my red nose and sniffed. Where did this woman come from? This church looked empty...but I wasn't really paying attention. "Do you have a name?"

"H-Hannah," I said without thinking.

"You shouldn't stay here alone. What on earth happened that drove you here?"

"A lot." Monica gently stood me up.

"Come on. We'll get you somewhere safe."

I slept on the bed in Monica's house that night. It had been her son's, who left the house years ago. Thunder woke me up and rain poured outside. The band couldn't have been looking for me in this weather. But Angus was pretty stubborn.

The house was one story so a few steps to the kitchen was all it took. Soup was sitting at the table and Monica sat across it. "Sit down and eat dear, hunger shouldn't be one of your ails."

I did what I was told. The soup was good. "This rain might last a while. I can feel it in my fingers." Monica clenched and unclenched her hands. I could see her tattoos better, which were roses. The thorny stems weaved up her arms but her shawl covered them up. Her skin was a lovely shade, almost like caramel. She had an Australian accent, so she's lived here at least a few years. "Now. What seems to be the trouble child?"

Where do I begin? The beginning. Which one? I couldn't mention the time travel, and I shouldn't get too specific with who Angus is. Maybe she didn't know him...What are you talking about? She's not an idiot, idiot. This would be tougher than I thought.

"You do have a trouble, don't you?" I blushed as I realized I hadn't answered in a while. Here goes nothing.

"I-did something. Something I'm not exactly-you know, proud of."

"We all have," she answered smiling.

"But not like this."

"Whatever you've done surely isn't so terrible it can't be fixed."

"It was fixed sort of, but I couldn't get over the guilt of what I had done."

"If it was fixed, it was fixed. Right?" I wanted to agree.

"Well see, I have a friend. We've known each other a long time. And we-admitted our feelings a long time ago. But I left. He got married and I came back and we still had some feelings for each other. But that was all before I came back a second time. Our feelings were stronger than ever and-we never went too far, but far enough and his wife found out. We later made up but the guilt was eating me alive. So I blew up on him and ran away."

"I see. You say you made up?"

"Yes."

"But you still feel guilty."

"Yes."

"You shouldn't. What's done is done. You shouldn't remind yourself over and over about the past."

"Shouldn't you though? So you don't make the same mistake again?" I asked. Monica stood up from the table and got me a glass of water.

"Are you thirsty?"

"Uh..."

"Here." A glass was set in front of me. "You are thirsty. Losing so much water yesterday. Go ahead." I did as I was told.

"Thank you."

"If you went days without drinking, what would happen?" she asked.

"I would die?"

"That's not a question," she corrected kindly." But before then, you'd get dehydrated and weak wouldn't you?"

"Yes." What was she referring to?

"You're near death. You should have grabbed that last water bottle but you foolishly refused. Now look at yourself. Pitiful. When suddenly, there it is. You see a pond. An oasis in the desert. You scoop all the water you can and drink it greedily. It takes a little while, but soon enough you're full of life again." I nodded like I understood but I was clueless.

"You return home, happy as ever. Now even though you quenched yourself silly the other day, you still get thirsty again. So what do you do?"

"Drink water."

"You drink water. You just grab a glass and a sink and have yourself a drink. You don't need to remind yourself how dehydrated you were when you know it's common sense to drink when you're thirsty. Right?" I nodded again.

"It's only when you go out on some trip or event that you remind yourself to grab that last water bottle before you go. No need to think about it when you're simply thirsty."

"I wish I could understand." She smiled.

"You see honey, you don't need to remind yourself of your past mistakes just willy nilly. You've learned since then. It's common sense not to repeat them anymore. It's only when you're tempted again, or pressured again, that you should remember. Other than that, what's done is done. Just grab a drink." I nodded. I genuinely understood that. She had a point. I couldn't dwell on the past, I had to move forward. Only when I was tempted to make that mistake again should I stop and think.

"That-actually makes sense." Monica laughed.

"What's a morning without music?" she declared, and headed to her living room.