My hands slipped and fumbled over the handle. I pushed the window open slowly, making sure it didn't creak and wake anyone up. Nona was staying the night and she was a light sleeper. I didn't come in through the front door knowing she'd hear me. Instead I opted for the fire escape beside my bedroom window. They'd never know I was out.

Swinging my leg over, I eased myself into my bedroom, my other foot catching on the window and falling to the floor. "Shit, fuck!" I whispered, hissing from the pain. I froze for just a second, listening for any footsteps. If either of them heard the crash they'd come barging in here and catch me. And if they caught me, my Italian ass was getting cooked for dinner.

Nothing. No rushing footsteps, no slamming doors, just silence. The sun was just starting to come up and if I could get changed into some pajamas or at least a different set of clothes, they wouldn't suspect a thing. Something with long sleeves so they wouldn't see the marks on my arms.

Standing up and brushing myself off, I hurried to my dresser and wrenched it open, looking for something to change into. It was getting warmer with the coming of spring, and long sleeves were growing out of their practicality. But when the only thing I could find was a knit sweater, I knew it was my only option. I quickly changed into it, ripping my jeans off and leaving them on the floor. The sweater came down to my knees and I decided to forgo pants. Feeling the long night catch up with me, I jumped into bed for a couple winks before getting up.

**********

I held my arms over my chest, hugging myself to ward off the cold. A sudden cold front poured in from the north and covered London in a small sheet of snow. Surely every news station was covering the weather, and schools had been let out early for the day, children running past me in their uniforms. My shaky breath came out in wisps of cloud, and the snow flew out from under my feet.

I made it to a bare part of town where the school children stayed away from. Places where spray paint decorated the abandoned train cars and under bridges. Places where litter was left where it was and loneliness inhabited the streets at night. Where drugs were more common and where I belonged.

My heart had been pounding horribly since I woke up that morning. I thought going on a walk might fix the problem but it seemed to be getting worse. I beat my leg with the side of my fist to work out the knot in my muscles. Walking became an Olympic sport.

I didn't know where I was going.

**********

My eyes adjusted to the light. There was no way I got enough sleep but it would have to do for now. I got out of bed and hurried to the kitchen for breakfast where I found Mom at the table and Nona cooking at the stove. I smiled at them and opened the fridge. "Morning," I said cheerfully.

Nona kept her back to me and Mom stared at her over her coffee mug. "Good morning, Esther," she said.

I rummaged around in the fridge for my orange juice but came up short. "Anyone seen the juice?" I asked.

"We ran out the other day," Mom said. Nona refused to turn around, her spoon scraping the sides of the pot of oatmeal. "There's milk if you want some."

"Nah, I don't feel like that today," I said and closed the fridge door. "Oatmeal again?"

"It's good for you," Mom said, setting her mug on the table. I sat across from her and picked up the spoon, checking my reflection. "Have a good sleep?"

"Could have been better," I said, fluffing my hair up. "Had a dream David Bowie was the king of England."

"Where were you last night, Esther?" Nona asked, finally turning around to face me. She gave me a hard stern look, her eyes shimmering with fire. I looked back and forth between her and Mom. Mom sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, goosebumps prickling my skin.

"You know exactly what we're talking about, Esther Cecilia Marino," Nona said. "Last night your mom came in your room to ask you about your school marks which have been plummeting dramatically." She spat the words at me. "And she found you gone. Now where have you been?"

"Just....taking a walk," I mumbled, wishing I had slept in that morning.

"We waited up half the night for you to come home," Nona went on. "Your mother was nearly hysterical!"

"I was hoping we could let Esther eat breakfast first before drilling into her," Mom said softly. I stood up from the table.

"I'm not really all that hungry," I muttered, making a move to leave.

"Hold it," Nona said. "What about your marks?" I sighed and looked at the floor. "Your professors have been on the phone nonstop with concerns about your education. You're failing almost every class and I have half a mind to march right over to your school and speak to the dean himself."

"They're just meaningless classes," I said. "All we do is learn a bunch of shit we don't even use-"

"Language," Nona scolded.

"Maybe if we learned something useful I'd bother to show up." I could have bitten my tongue.

"You haven't been showing up?" Mom asked. Fuck, I blew it.

"Once in a while," I said, keeping my eyes away from Nona's harsh ones. "When I feel like it."

"No wonder your marks are slipping!" Nona exclaimed. Her oatmeal lay forgotten in the boiling pot.

"Why doesn't the dean talk to me about it?" I asked. "I'm eight-fucking-teen and they don't bother to tell me about my marks? They have to call my mommy and tattle to her?"

"They can't talk to you, you're not showing up to class!" Nona said. Mom stood from the table and came to stand between us. "Instead they call your mother every hour of the day and disrupt her work at the restaurant!"

"Esther, we're just concerned about you is all," Mom said and I took a step back from her.

"You're not concerned about me, you're concerned about my bullshit school work!" I yelled. "School doesn't define a person, being good at school isn't everything in life!"

"It's a good deal," Nona said. "How do you expect to find a job out there without a college education? You'll be living on the streets by twenty!"

"No I won't," I retorted. "I'm not completely useless, I can find a job."

"Esther," Mom said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I wrenched myself away from her touch. Mom looked hurt but went on. "I just don't want to see you working for spare change for the rest of your life. I want you to have a better life than I did, I want you to have a bright future ahead of you."

"And I want to die knowing you're in good hands," Nona said. "To think my only granddaughter could be roaming the streets at night flirting with death by drug overdose is not what I want to grieve about on my deathbed."

"Who said anything about drugs?" I scoffed, my palms getting sweaty. "Come on, I'm not that stupid. And I'd appreciate if you two didn't guilt trip me into living my life the way you want me to live it."

"It's not guilt tripping, it's called being a parent," Mom said. "Maybe I don't have what it takes to be a single mother. I wish your father were still here to help me...." Her eyes glistened with tears and I looked away before my own could blossom. "I love you, Esther. That will never change. But I expect to see a little more effort out of you to help yourself, okay? I won't always be around to support you."

"You guys are making a big deal out of nothing!" I yelled, making my exit from the kitchen.

"Hold on, young lady," Nona said following me.

"I'm not helpless, I can make it just fine on my own! With or without a bullshit scam of a college education this society loves to value more than being a good person!"

"That's not at all what this is about!" Mom said. "We know you're a good person, you just need to apply yourself in school a little more!"

"Fuck school!" I yelled and raced to my room.

"You watch that mouth!" Nona yelled after me.

"Esther!" Mom called and I didn't turn around. I slammed my bedroom door shut and paced the length of the room, grabbing a pillow to scream into. Just because Mom was a waitress didn't mean I was destined to be one unless I went to college. And what was so wrong about it anyway? It was a job like any other! If she could get an apartment on that kind of cash then I'd have no problem finding a job that met my needs. School could go fuck itself, I didn't need it. Kids like Ramona needed it. Mom and Nona just had to accept that I wasn't like my classmates and I needed a different route to be successful. One that didn't involve sitting behind a typewriter writing a theme about symbolism in literature that wasn't really there but your English professor insisted it was. One that didn't make us sweat over algebra and calculus and fucking imaginary numbers for no goddamned reason other than "Because I said so".

I'd show them. I'd show them good. I wasn't a fucking cog in the corporate machine.

But first I needed a hit.

I threw the pillow to the floor and grabbed some ballerina flats, slipping them over my bare feet. Opening my window again, I made my way to the fire escape to find some of my friends and get high with them. Anything to take my mind off this disaster of a morning. Anything to ease the tension, anything to make me forget.

They'd never understand.

**********

I stumbled blindly through the snow, tripping over my own feet. Everything looked the same under all the white dust. Water had frozen into hanging icicles that threatened to fall on me and take me out. I wished they would.

I wanted to stop on one of the benches I passed on my walk but I worried I might never get up. Either from my exhaustion overcoming me or freezing on the spot, I wouldn't take a chance. Everyone in town seemed to want to stay inside today due to the accumulation that had only gotten worse since this morning. They'd all be home with their families drinking tea and cocoa and get a good night of sleep tonight with no cares and no worries. Meanwhile I hadn't been making enough money to spend on heroin lately and the cravings were bad.

Ignoring them was doing no good. The only way to stop them was by giving in to them. I needed the relief and I needed the high. I scanned the streets and alleyways looking for a willing patron to give me some in exchange for whatever they wanted. As long as it was within my comfort zone, I'd help them out. But there was no one out today.

No one except me.

I couldn't help but retrace my steps. How did I get to this point? How did my love for heroin get so bad that I was willing to perform acts of service for it? Was it really a love of heroin, or was it a hatred of pain? Maybe a mixture of both.

Bon called again. I answered this time and he sounded extremely relieved to hear my voice. I explained to him I was fine and just wanted some time to myself, was that so much to ask? He hid the relief away with concern and asked if he could come over and spend the day at my place. I told him I wasn't accepting visitors and promptly hung up. He was probably at my place right now, banging on the door and demanding I let him inside.

Why couldn't he mind his own business? Why couldn't work consume his free time so he'd be unable to see me? Unable to call? What the fuck kind of shit was he spewing to the rest of his band and whatever other people he worked with? All of them hating me for being a phantom of a friend and comforting him through the lonely nights. He might be chasing away the pain right now with a good old shot of heroin!

I grit my teeth and wiped at any tears falling. Some fucking friend I was. Bon was a special guy, he could make a new friend in ten seconds flat. I was replaceable and no doubt he took that into consideration. Someone who didn't blow him off and could sleep with him if he wanted. Someone clean who could in turn help Bon stay away from the substance himself. I'd only end up killing him.

This was for the best. For Bon's own good.

Why couldn't I do anything right?

Why was I such a fucking terrible person to the ones I loved?

Why couldn't I have just visited Mom for Christmas?

Why couldn't I have saved her? Or Dad?

Why couldn't I do shit to help myself with my obvious addiction?

I didn't want to. I didn't want help. I didn't want to get better. I just wanted to feel better. Even for one fleeting moment.

I scratched at my arms through my sweater as I walked. Scratched to take my mind off my sins. Slapping my legs to get them to move. Slapped at my face to keep myself awake from night after night of minimal sleep. I couldn't go home until I had gotten some kind of comfort to take with me. Something to help.

I didn't notice the shadow looming next to me. "Esther?" I walked faster. My mind was playing tricks on me. Just what I needed. "Esther, wait up! Hold on!"

I started running. The figure grabbed my arm and I screamed. He let go and I almost slipped on the ice and landed on the ground. "Get away from me," I hissed.

"Esther, what the fuck are you doin' out here? You'll freeze to death." I kept walking and he followed me.

"I don't need you," I said. "I can find my way back home."

"Of course you can," Bon said, matching my pace. I saw him reach into his coat pocket and pull out an inhaler, taking a breath before putting it away again. "You probably know these streets like the back of your hand."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I asked, stopping to face him. My face was burning red. Bon stood there with his hands in his pockets, shivering. "You think I come here all the time scoring drugs and whoring around?"

"I meant you've lived here longer than I have," Bon said. "You don't need my help gettin' home. I never said anythin' about drugs or...."

"Fuck off," I said, hurrying away from him. He followed me and I stopped again. "What the hell are you doing out here then? Scoring heroin for yourself?"

"No!" he said, grabbing at my arms. I pulled away from him and slipped this time.

"Don't help me!" I yelled, sliding on the ice trying to stand up. Bon carefully placed his hands under my arms and lifted me to a standing position. I pulled away from him and stormed off down the street. "You can't help me!"

"Ya' won't even let me try!" he yelled after me. "You're scarin' us a bit with your attitude lately an' I jus' wanna see you again."

"Is that why you followed me out here?" I asked. "Like some stalker who won't leave when he's asked politely?"

"I came by here to mail a letter to Mum," Bon said, hurrying after me. I wouldn't stop for him again. "I happened to see ya' walkin' an' I wanted to make sure you were okay." I sighed and stormed around the corner. "An' it's clear you're not."

"What do you know?" I asked. "What do you and your little friends know about anything?"

"My little friends happen to be your fuckin' friends too an' we know a lot more than you're lettin' on," Bon snapped. "What was that at Ang's party? Ya' flew out the door an' we haven't seen ya' since."

"I've been busy," I growled. "Why can't you do the same?"

"I have been busy an' I still made sure to make time for my friends," Bon said. "Especially when I know they're in trouble an' need help."

The snow fell harder. My skin burned and my nose started to run. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms. "I don't need your fucking help."

"Alright, ya' don't need my help," Bon said, pulling out the inhaler again. "What about someone else? Ya' need their help? What do ya' need?"

"I need you to leave me alone!" I yelled, pushing him away. I wasn't strong enough to manage any distance and he remained in place. "All of you, leave me the fuck alone!"

"Esther, stop!" Bon said as I beat my fists into him. He grabbed my wrists and held them away. "Easy, Esther!"

"Fuck off! I hate you! You're a hypocrite!" Hot tears coursed down my ice cold skin.

"What are ya' talkin' about?" Bon asked, lowering his voice. "Esther, look at me."

"You take drugs like nobody's business and have the balls to get after me for it!" I yelled. "It's all fun and games for the rockstar, isn't it? You can do whatever you want and I'm getting my ass grilled for it!"

Bon tried wrapping his arms around me to hold me still but I wormed my way out. I'd fight as long as I could. Since losing more weight I hadn't been strong enough to push over a baby lamb but a surge of adrenaline came to my rescue. "I'm not the one wanderin' the streets without a coat! I'm not the one ignorin' my friends an' lookin' sick an' I'm not the one losin' control!"

Adrenaline met anger.

"I'm not losing control!" I screamed, trying everything I could to knock him off of me. If he could just slip on the ice I might be able to get away. I flailed my limbs every direction in the hopes I might escape. "Let go of me! Let go!"

Maybe if I screamed loud enough someone would come running. It looked pretty bad for Bon. Anybody who hadn't seen the whole thing would think he was attacking me and I could get away. Whatever happened to Bon was his problem. "I'm not tryin' to hurt ya', I jus' wanna talk!"

"Fuck you! Let me go! Let me go!"

I could feel myself get weaker. My muscles were giving out and I could hardly stand. I felt lightheaded and wanted nothing more than to succumb to the exhaustion. Bon's grip around my waist tightened. He was probably the only thing holding me up at this point. More tears dripped from my cheeks onto my hands and the snow below my feet. I shook and sobbed and weakly tried pulling away from Bon.

"Let....go...."

I felt the snow under me as I collapsed to the ground. Bon held me up so I wouldn't hit the pavement. Hugging myself, I sobbed into my arms, pulling my knees up to my chest. Bon knelt in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. "Esther, look at me. Let me see your eyes." He cupped my chin in his hand and tilted my face up. I knew I looked despicable but Bon didn't say anything. He examined my eyes and removed his hand, taking off his jacket. "Gettin' fuckin' pneumonia out here, Esther," he said, wrapping his leather jacket around me. My breath hitched and I fell into a fit of gasps and coughs. "Easy, easy," Bon said, his voice gentle like the falling snow. "Take it easy, Esther....we're gonna get ya' some help, okay?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Bon couldn't help me. Nobody could help me now. I was too far gone. It was too late for me. Bon should be getting help for himself before he ended up like me. Leave me to die in the snow alone and save himself. I tried to tell him but the only thing that would come out was coughs and shudders.

"We're gonna get ya' home, Esther," Bon said, smoothing my hair back with his hand. He pulled me into a hug, hiding my tears in the fabric of his shirt. "We'll get ya' someplace warm an' safe with Scout an' I an' we're gonna help ya'. Okay?"

I let myself crumble in Bon's arms. He gathered the remains of me and lifted me up while I shivered and shook like leaf. My hair was wet from tears and snow.

"Let's get ya' home, hon."