• "But, she's been in there for days. She hasn't eaten or anything. All she has been doing is crying." The low voice floated into her room, then into her ears, from down the hall where her parents were talking, a little too loudly. "Trust me Robert," Her mother replied sternly. She could see her mother in her signature pose, one arm crossed over her chest, hand gripping just above the elbow of the arm she was using to point furiously at whomever happened to be at the opposite end of her rage. "Her best friend just died, give her some time to find her footing and heal before you assume that she's mental." There was a huff then someone, most likely her mother, stormed away and towards the kitchen. Anne buried her face on her hands when her father shuffled past, then stopped. She wasn't ready to face the world yet, let alone her own parents. She felt the overflow of tears come once more. Sobs wracked her body as she soaked her hands in guilt.

    It was her fault that Beatrix died. If she hadn't asked her to go home early, then she wouldn't have been hurt. No one should've been hit by that car, especially Beatrix, but it was too late to stop it from happening now. If she had the power to travel back in time, she'd push Beatrix, or she would've just not asked her to go. She had been feeling sick though, and didn't want Bea catching whatever she had, especially since there was a six month old baby living at her house. Grasping her pillow, Anne buried her face in the fluff and let the sobs take over.

    Her lower lip was being crushed between her teeth, as she ever so carefully left her room. It felt like anything could set her off, and most likely would. Was she ready for this? Of course, not, but her stomach apparently was. She was disgusted in herself that she could have an appetite at this time, but she did and there wasn't much she could do about it, besides eat. "Hello baby, would you like sliced apple and cheese?" Her mother asked in that tone she used when Anne wasn't feeling well. It was nice, somehow, that she wasn't acting like she needed special pampering. Smiling softly, Anne nodded, taking a seat at the table and awaiting her snack.

    "Mom, I'm cold."

    I will try and post the rest in my Journal! <3