I ran for as long as I could before my legs gave out on me and I collapsed completely, but it wasn't enough, my mother's words were still chasing me relentlessly, and I needed to escape them somehow.

Cancer...cancer...cancer...

I needed to think of something else - anything else, but it was like that game little kids played, when they told you not to think of a pink elephant, but once someone had planted the idea in your head, it was impossible not to envision just that, no matter how hard you tried.

When I glanced at my surroundings, I didn't recognize a thing, I was well and truly lost, but I really didn't give a fuck, it would just make me harder to find, and that was just fine with me.

From what I could make out, I had stopped in a park of some sorts, it was small and the few swings and metal slide were rusted. An air of abandonment hovered about it, and it seemed as if no children had played here in quite some time, its existence completely forgotten by anyone but me.

Darkness was encroaching quickly; I must have ran for much longer than I was aware of, but my legs had stopped cramping a bit, so I pulled myself to my feet slowly, wandering in a random direction, trying to ascertain where I had ended up.

I wasn't ready to head home - not yet, because then I would have to face my mother, and even if I was, I had no idea how to get there, so I continued to walk aimlessly, glancing at the run down shops as I passed.

She just had to be lying, Grandma couldn't have cancer, but I knew my mother wouldn't play such a cruel joke on me, which meant it had to be true, but if I accepted that she wasn't just feeding me falsehoods, I would have to come to terms with the fact that Elena was truly dying.

The rational part of my mind was trying to reason with me; Grandma Elena was getting older, and if it wasn't this that killed her, old age would have done it eventually, and I should have been preparing myself for this inevitability a long time ago, but the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

Grandma had always been the one constant thing in my life that I could depend on, whenever I had a problem, it was her I turned to for advice, and she never failed to say just the right thing to cheer me up.

But more importantly, it was always her that encouraged me to chase after my dreams, no matter how ludicrous they seemed at the time, and that meant more to me than words could ever say.

She had been there for me from the very beginning, dropping everything to help my mother raise Mikey and I when my dad had left, and she had become an integral part of our lives ever since.

It was her that I had spent the most time with after my stay at Laurel Hills, and I don't think I would have recovered half as well without her supportive presence. She was the one who comforted me when the urge to cut became overwhelming, the one who held me when I missed Frank so much I wanted to give up.

She had been the person who made me realize I could draw, the one who pushed me to attend art school, the one who told me to never get up on anything: not my aspirations to become an artist, not on Frank, and she had never let me down.

After I had moved out on my own, I saw her considerably less, but I knew she was always a phone call away if I needed her. She had become more of a mother to me than anything else, not that I begrudged my mom for not being there; she was an amazing woman who worked hard to support her sons, I just connected with Elena more for some reason.

Imagining life without her almost brought me to my knees with agony. I stumbled to a stop, trying to push all of my dark thoughts away, but for the first time in ages, I couldn't do it. The voices were overwhelming me with their intensity, as if their prolonged absence had only made them stronger upon their return.

She doesn't deserve to die...

If anything it should be you...

You need to suffer...

You didn't even care enough to notice...

And I couldn't argue with them, because now that I thought about it, Grandma had been losing weight, even her skin had appeared more sallow the last time I had seen her, but I had brushed it all off, chalking it up to her increasing age, never once even considering that something could ever be wrong, because Elena was so strong, I always imagined her living into her hundreds.

The voices continued to assault me, making me desperate to do something - anything to shut them up, but what could I do, except for fall back into the bad habits I had struggled so hard to break?

I glanced up through tear stained lashes, only to discover that I had stumbled to a halt in front of a liquor store, as if the universe was providing me the answer to all of my problems in the form of a clear bottle of liquid which would silence the voices, at least for a little while.

I tried to resist - I really did. I stood outside of the glass door for ages, debating if I really wanted to go through with this, trying to list all of the reasons why this was a terrible idea in my head, but the voices drowned them out; they drowned out everything good in my life, and I found myself pushing open the tempting door, the bell above it tinkling happily, as if reassuring me that I had made the right decision.

I grabbed a random bottle of vodka from the display that greeted me as soon as I entered the small store, and within minutes I had purchased it, choosing to consume it back at the park I had discovered earlier. It had that air of emptiness that meant people didn't frequently visit the place, and I wasn't in the mood for anyone accidentally intruding on my downward spiral.

I sat down on the creaky swing, testing to make sure it would hold my weight first, and even though it released an alarming squeal when I settled into it heavily, it didn't collapse on top of me at least.

I don't know how long I stayed in that position, staring down at the bottle in my hand, refusing to open it for just a little while longer, because maybe then I could convince myself to abandon this entire stupid plan before it was too late, but the opposite actually occurred.

The longer the bottle stayed sealed between my trembling fingertips, the stronger my desire to consume the entire thing became, because even though it wasn't a permanent solution - it was something, and I would have taken a blow to the head right now if it knocked me out.

But I couldn't do this...Frank would be so disappointed in me...and after he had been so brave and overcome so many of his own problems, how could I give in to mine so easily, was I really that pathetic?

I had to call him, then he would tell me that everything was going to be okay, he would be able to talk me out of this before I made a huge mistake. Honestly - I should have phoned him as soon as I ran away, but that would have involved explaining to him what was wrong, and I just couldn't vocalize what my mother had told me, that would make it even more real, but I needed Frank right now.

When I reached into my pocket, I realized that I had left my cell phone in my mother's house on the kitchen table...well so much for that solution.

I decided that if I couldn't hear his voice, then I would try to picture him here instead. I tried my hardest to form an image of him in my mind: the way his nose crinkled up slightly when he smiled, the adorable way his hair flopped over his forehead - no matter how many times he brushed it away, his hazel eyes that were the most beautiful thing in the world to me, but just when it was almost fully formed, Frank disappeared in a wisp of smoke, only to be replaced by my grandma lying in a hospital bed, her face whiter than the sheets that covered her.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the ghastly sight that had taken the place of Frank, but of course that didn't help, it only made it worse; because this was all inside my head, and closing my eyes had only helped shut out any distractions, making the vision of my grandmother stand out even more prominently.

I couldn't do this anymore, it was too much, so I twisted open the silvery cap that had been the only thing separating me from my old friend and gulped down a mouthful of the potent liquid, gagging slightly as it burned my throat. I hadn't had a drink in eight years, and I forgotten how it felt.

Almost instantaneously, I began to feel a little bit better, even though I was aware that it was impossible for the alcohol to kick in that quickly. Maybe it was just the fact that I knew I would be okay soon. In a few more minutes, I would be cocooned in a contented drunken state, where I could forget everything besides the fuzzy feeling that would flow through my veins.

I downed the bottle as quickly as possible, wanting to hasten the positive effects along, and even though every sip seared my mouth, I kept at it, because it would be worth it in the end.

Once the bottle was empty, the familiar signs that proved I was getting quite drunk began to hit me. A stupid smile stretched across my face for no particular reason, and I couldn't remember how I had gotten here, or why I had decided to drink in the first place, but I didn't really care, because I felt happy.

"Frank?" I called out loudly, wanting him here with me, so he could share in my joy.

"Baby?"

Hmm...maybe I wasn't being loud enough. If I stood up on that picnic table, maybe then he would hear me, and we could get drunk together. I heard that drunk sex was fun, maybe we could try that out.

Still clutching the empty bottle in my hands, I climbed to my feet unsteadily; the sudden movement causing the blood to rush to my head, magnifying my inebriated state. Taking small clumsy steps, I approached the splintered table, taking care not to prick myself as I climbed on top of it.

"Frankie!" I cupped my hands around my mouth, hoping to project my voice even farther with their help, but still there was no answer.

I spun around on my heel, because maybe Frank was hiding behind me in the trees, and his hearing was muffled by the sounds of the leaves and bugs and shit, but I moved too quickly, landing flat on my stomach instead, causing the bottle in my hand to splinter into thousands of glass shards.

"Fuck..." I hissed as I felt the slivers poke into my skin painfully.

I wanted to get up so I could continue searching for Frank. I needed him here for some reason, I couldn't recall exactly what the reason was, but I didn't really need one. I wanted Frank around all the time, even when nothing was wrong, but I couldn't seem to move. My head was spinning wildly, as if I was being swung around rapidly, even though I knew I was just lying there.

My stomach roiled violently, and I had to choke down the bile that was clogging my throat, because this shouldn't be happening already; I used to be able to drink numerous bottles of vodka before I got this intoxicated, but I had neglected to take into consideration the fact that I hadn't tasted a sip of anything alcoholic in eight years, and my tolerance had plummeted substantially.

It was too late to do anything about that now though, maybe I could just sleep it off. I was suddenly exhausted anyway, and this picnic table was a much comfier bed than it looked, so I shut my eyes wearily, hoping that Frank would be there when I woke up. I didn't like sleeping alone anymore, and I knew he didn't either.

He would come find me...I just knew it.

I have no idea where all the inspiration for this story came from, but it has been less than twenty-four hours and I am already updating again.

I am really sorry for neglecting my other stories, but at least this is better than nothing right?

This chapter is dedicated to collidewithjulie because you are awesome for reading this story, and btw your profile pic is really pretty.

Well I will probably be back sooner than later, so goodbye for now.

((((good vibes))))

<3 starr