A young teenage girl with long black hair paced back and forth through a messy room; in her arms she held a young boy who was occasionally letting out a whimper.

"It's ok Benny, it's ok," the girl chanted quietly under her breath. She gave a little bounce hoping to cheer him up, but instead the boy let out another cry and buried his blond head in her shoulder. "She'll be home soon, she has to be," the girl murmured to herself, anger glinting in her green eyes.

Suddenly a loud crash echoed in from outside of the door. The girl jumped and quickly set the boy down. Walking over to the door she opened it slowly - a woman lay there on the steps in front of the house, her cheek resting on the snow.

"MOM!" the girl cried, running over, thinking she might be hurt, or even worse dead.

The older woman shifted, brushing her short blond hair from her eyes she glanced up. "Marissa, why the hell aren't you in bed?" the woman grumbled, struggling to get herself out of the snow.

Marissa quickly grabbed her arm, trying to get her into the apartment before she woke up the neighbours…like yesterday. As the older woman's body pressed against hers the girl felt like pucking as the smell of alcohol washed over her, she almost let into desire and dropped the woman back onto the ground , but holding her breath she managed to get her inside to their tattered old couch.

"Where's Benny?" asked the drunken woman, sitting up on the couch and looking around with blood-shot eyes.

"He's with me," Marissa replied, her voice cold, her green eyes stared angrily down at her mother.

"What's your problem?"

"You!" Marissa shouted.

"Why? I can be however I want - it's my life!" was the reply yelled back.

"What life? This isn't a life!"

"Well when you graduate you can move out!" the woman yelled, standing up.

"And I'm taking Benjamin," Marissa muttered.

"No you're fucking not!"

"Go to sleep, I have to go to school tomorrow."

"You hate me?" the woman asked, her voice sounded hurt, but right now Marissa didn't care.

"Good. Night." Marissa said coldly, picking up the crying preschooler and taking him with her to her room.

A woman lay on a disgusting floor covered with laundry and dishes, her short blond hair spread around her body. The ends of her hair were soaked in blood, she was wearing her jacket and one of her winter boots was on her foot, the other by the door. All she was wearing besides that was a night gown. Laying beside her in a pool of blood was a handgun. A small boy who was covered in blood slept on the old couch. Detectives crowded around her; one of them picked up the small boy and walked out of the room.

A skinny hand checked off the details about the death - he put a check beside suicide.

A skinny hand slid a cardboard box onto the shelf on the wall, the name Harvard, C.