"I'm home," I announced, walking into our apartment at a decent hour for the first time in ages. I walked into Cassie's room, just as she was hanging up from a phone call. She looked a bit annoyed, or put-off.

"Hey, I got you a Peppermint White Mocha from Starbucks, you know, since it's pretty much Christmas in a cup," I said, handing her the cup.

She took it disinterestedly and took a small sip, before setting it aside on her bedside table. "Are you okay, Cass?" I asked, wondering why she was being weird, considering it was Christmas Eve and this was literally the time of the year that she lived for.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Promise. I'm fine, just had a little spat with Fred," she said. Fred was this guy she had been seeing since around mid-October.

"Aw, what about? I'm sure you guys'll work it out."

She shook her head, "Yeah, it's not a big deal at all. Just our first fight, so I'm a bit bummed, but it's Christmas Eve so let's just forget about boys and get in the spirit?"

I nodded, "Eggnog time?"

"You know me far too well, my love," Cassie smiled, pulling her drink up from her bedside and taking a huge sip.

As we were rummaging around the kitchen, me baking a Christmas cake and Cassie fixing up Eggnog for us to drink while we baked, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to thoughts of Mike. I had been so good the past few months, I had not fallen apart. I had just continued on, strong and with my head held-high, held together by thoughts of Mike and that, possibly, come December, we would re-hash past memories.

I couldn't help but let a foolish smile take over my face when I thought of Mike, it just made me far too happy and excited to think that he was finally home in San Diego, or would be in a matter of hours.

"What are you all happy about?" Cassie asked.

"I dunno, Cass, I just- I have a really good feeling about this Christmas, that's all," I said, trying not to be too much of a hopeless romantic out loud.

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged, "You know...Mike's home, and all. I just have a good feeling about it, that's all."

Cassie suddenly got that same dejected look on her face that she had earlier, when she had just hung up from talking to Fred. She looked up at me with sad and guilty eyes.

"Listen, hon, there's something you need to know..."

"What?"

"Um, just, sit down for a bit," she said, taking the mixing spoon and bowl out of my hands and making me sit down at the kitchen table.

"What is it, dude? You're starting to scare me."

"There's something you need to know about Mike, Livvy," she continued, very slowly and purposefully as if each word she said weigh a thousand pounds on her lips.

"Well, any time soon, then," I said, getting impatient. My stomach began to curl at the edges a little bit, I was experienced enough in the whole "sit down, we need to talk" drill to know that this conversation could never end in smiles and laughs. The last time I had been sat down this suddenly, my fiance had been found dead on a highway road.

"Look, I lied to you. That wasn't Fred on the phone. It was Vic. He called to talk to me cause he couldn't talk to you, he just couldn't face you. He's just so torn up over Mike..." She paused for a few seconds before suddenly blurting out, "Livvy, Mike's been sleeping around like a man-whore on tour."

I shrugged, suddenly feeling lighter and relieved for some odd reason, "Oh? He has?"

Cassie looked horribly guilty and sad, but for some reason, what was going on in my innards was not nearly as gloomy as the expression on her face. I was surprised that I was taking all of this so great. I just...felt so light, like none of this could bother me. So light.

*

It was really dreary outside when I woke up, but it wasn't nightfall yet. It was a weird, evening sky that was peeking through my window. I instinctively grabbed for my phone and saw that the time was only 06:45 P.M. Why was I in bed? Had I taken a nap?

"Oh, good, you're up," Cassie said, poking her head into my room. She walked in with a bowl of soup on a tray, with a cup of hot tea beside it. She set it down on my bedside table and came and put her hand on my forehead.

"Wha-"

"You passed out, dude. I was terrified! You just completely blacked-out, I was so worried, Livvy, I didn't know what to do, so I just carried you in here and put you in bed and made you some soup. How do you feel now? Do you think you need to go to the hospital?"

I shook my head slowly, "No, no, no. I feel fine, Cassie. I just, you know, it was probably the fluorescent lights in the kitchen, you know how that gives me migraines sometimes," I said, not even trying to come up with a believable lie, because it would just be insulting to my best friend's intelligence to do so.

She nodded, "Mhmm. Yeah. Why don't you eat something? You've been asleep for three hours, you must be hungry."

I meekly grabbed the bowl of soup and took a few sips of it to please Cassie. The hot liquid seemed to burn my esophagus as it went down and it felt really uneasy as it settled in my stomach. I smiled slowly at her to calm her down, though her forehead was still creased with worry-lines.

"I'm fine, Cass. I promise. I just need to be left alone?" I asked, gently.

She nodded hesitantly, like she was having a mental battle trying to decide if leaving me alone was a good idea or not. "Mhmm, yeah, sure. Just call me if you need anything?"

"Yeah, I will," I said, setting the bowl aside and plopping back under the covers as she left my room and shut the door lightly behind her.

I checked my phone once again- no messages. I went to the Message button and stared at the blank screen, wondering who I wanted to message and what I wanted to say. As if without thought, my fingers seemed to type up "Have you reached SD yet?" and sent it to Mike. I immediately began to cringe, expecting to not even get a response.

However, about two minutes later, Mike replied with a simple, "Yeah, we just did." I thought long and hard about how to reply to that, and then just settled on, "What plans for Christmas? Any chance I'll get to see you?"

Again, I cringed repeatedly as that message was sending, wondering why I was so pathetically putting myself out there for a guy who had knowingly screwed me over. Again, he replied simply, though this time with a bit more sting- "No, I don't think so, Livvy."

I threw my phone away and curled up under the covers, clutching my stomach tightly. I felt like someone was wrangling out my tummy with all of their force, and again, without warning, the tears just seemed to fall from my eyes, as if they were just perched there at my eyelids, waiting for an ample opportunity. I stuffed my comforter on to my mouth and nuzzled the sounds of my sobs, not wanting Cassie to hear me cry. I had already ruined her favorite holiday for her, I couldn't afford to be any more selfish towards her. God, I'm such a selfish bitch. I just take, take, take without consideration of anyone else. I took Cassie's perfect Christmas Eve away from her cause I'm too emotionally unstable to even hold it together for ten seconds so that I can be there for my best friend. I just relentlessly let her worry about me, look out for me, pick up my pieces. I don't even [i]know[/i] about her and Fred's relationship...because I never even asked! I'm so goddamned selfish I never even bothered asking what was on her mind, because I was too consumed by my own selfish thoughts.

I certainly only thought of myself when I continually called Vic and made him feel guilty, and like he had to be loyal to me over his brother. And I certainly only thought of myself when I so willingly let Mike in only to usher him right out, again. Why [i]should[/i] he want to spend Christmas with me? I'm just a cold-hearted bitch who toyed with his emotions and brought out his inner demons. Christmas is about family and love and warmth, none of which I apparently have. There is absolutely nothing but mold and remorse radiating from this body of mine, and there is nothing but cobwebs and nightmares in my head. No one deserves this. No one deserves my broken pieces and my jaded self; not Cassie, not Vic, and certainly not Mike.

And then, it began again. The visions, they started all over again.

[i]"Hey, mom, what's up? I just left the clinic, I'm gonna be home in ten minutes," I said, wondering why my mom called me, she usually never called me when I was at work.

"Honey, can you hurry up please?" she said curtly, her voice didn't sound warm or welcoming, it sounded like elastic stretched out way too far and thin.

My forehead creased with worry, "What's wrong, mom? Is everything okay? Is everyone fine at home?"

"Yeah, honey, please just hurry up," she begged, choking on her last few words.

"I'll be right there," I said, hanging up as I unlocked my car and got in. I remember the drive as being very disturbed and my heart kept thumping at every red light, it seemed like each light took an eternity to turn its colors.

Finally, I reached our driveway. Without bothering with a perfect park, I just left the car out on the driveway instead of taking it into the garage. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the car, speeding towards the door. I opened the door to hear voices in the den.

I could hear my dad talking, mumbling quietly, and my mom wailing louder than I've ever heard her cry. The sound of my dad's voice calmed me down, because for a second, I assumed my dad had had a heart attack, or something.

I took a deep breath and walked into the den to see my mom and dad seated on the couch, my mom absolutely hysterical with tears, and my dad looking like he was barely holding back the tears.

"Livvy?" my dad called out, he sounded like a little child who was asking his mom if he could go out and play.

"What's wrong, guys? What happened?" I said, my voice gaining a weird edge to it, giving away how panicked I was without even realizing it.

My mom suddenly let go of my father and walked towards me, putting two hands on my shoulders and saying, "Sit down, honey, take a seat."

Her face was absolutely drenched with tears and caked with clumped makeup, she looked really distressed and like she was not in a stable mind set. I immediately switched over from being afraid to just being plain old scared.

"Sweety, we got a call about an hour ago from the Police..." my mom started, not being able to continue. She started sobbing all over again, and my dad had to console her for about a minute.

Then, my dad said, in an even-toned voice that somehow still seemed laced with sadness, "Livvy, John died. His truck tipped over on the Barkley Avenue flyover, it was him and Sawyer. Sawyer's still in the hospital, he's in a critical condition, but he might make it, but Johnny's-" and before he could say the word, my father, too, started crying. And for the first time in my entire life, I sat there, watching my parents cry and wondered what to make of the information that had just been relayed to me.

There was something about a bridge, something about John and Sawyer. Yeah, they're best friends. They were probably on their way to their typical Saturday night guys night, where they'd play poker and drink beer. Then at around 2 A.M. Johnny would call me, all buzzed and say really cute things and call me little names that made me soar and I'd call him a drunken sloozy, then he'd say goodnight to me and I'd go to bed.[/i]

And then, as long as it took for it for the reality to set it, it seemed as if the endless stream of realities was still pouring in, inevitable and indestructible. The black dresses flapping in the wind at the funeral, the open casket, Johnny's swollen face all covered in makeup, my mother having to pry me off the casket as everyone stood around shaking their heads and crying softly, the countless hours spent on the bathroom floor writhing in excruciating angst, the pulsating touch of Mike's hand on my heart, and the the vision of him walking away, never to return. Suddenly it all came back to me like a dammed wall that had been broken, the water gushed in with no regard for my well-being. I let it carry me away, I let it drown me. I let myself drift in the pain. The pain was all I had left. The pain was my only family.

Notes

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