An Epitaph

A Daria one shot Fanfiction.

A/N: I guess I've seen this done too many times to count, but I'm hoping that I can still pull together a decent one shot. This is set in Daria's POV.

Was this what college was for? Sitting inside my dorm room, morphing into the mattress beneath me? I am fairly sure I have a roommate, but obviously she has a much more distinct life outside these four walls than I. It was just one year ago, where one of my father's rampages behind the wheel ended the lives of both himself and my mother. I could repeat the hospital scene in my head over and over if I decided to…

"Which of you is Miss Morgendorffer?" a slightly balding man with blue scrubs on from head to toe asked my sister and me.

Quinn stood, with tears brimming beneath her already dark eyes. College had taken a toll on her "beauty" sleep. I chose to stand at that point as well, and be the only one strong enough to speak. "We are their daughters." A slow stern voice left my throat. I tried my hardest to sound at least somewhat sincere, but a deep burn was finding its way from my stomach up to my throat.

"Your father, Jake, suffered a severe brain aneurism while behind the wheel. Your mother, Helen, had a severe clot lodged in her brain cavity. I'm sorry to say that we did all we could, but neither of them were able to be saved.

Quinn ran as far as she could away from the man, she believed, had taken her parents away from her. I knew as soon as the word "sorry" was spoken, that there wasn't hope left. I shook my head to the doctor, and refused to let myself cry about this. I was hurt, sad, and overall depressed, but I hadn't ever shown a sign of emotion before, why start now?

The rest of my family was quite concerned with me, as were Jane and Trent. I took my end of the year exams early, and left school a week early. I attended both the funeral and the memorial the first two days that I was free, and then I never left the Lanes' couch. Our house went up for sale not much longer after they passed. Neither Quinn nor I could afford the house payments. Quinn decided to keep herself busy after she was released from school. She took up two part-time jobs in order to pay for her next semester's tuition. I, on the other hand, managed to pay off most of my schooling ahead with my Montana Cabin Fund. Jane was also busy, painting her masterpieces and selling them at select art fairs around town, Trent was my new pal.

We would both wake up at late, enjoy our short, quiet walk the Pizza King every afternoon, and then I would sit in on Trent's band practice. Although, I was beginning to learn that they weren't practicing much more than pot, meth and cocaine. I often wondered how they could afford such drugs with a Door's cover band, but I wasn't the least interested in finding out. It finally occurred to me how obvious Jesse's delirium and Trent's raspy voice and cough came to be. They often fell onto their instruments, played them in absolutely absurd ways, and often passed a pipe to me. Occasionally I would take a hit, go into complete unawareness, and wake up a couple hours later covered in one of Trent's blankets. In high school, this would have been a dream come true. Nowadays, I'm one of the guys; I hang out with them every night, and sleep all morning. Quinn was too lazy to notice my downfall, but Jane wasn't. She woke me up at an ungodly hour one morning and looked crushed to pieces.

"You're becoming Trent." She spoke in a very quiet tone, unsure if she'd offend me, or please me.

"I'm becoming a Lane" I reminded her that she wasn't perfect either.

"You're becoming a drug addict." Jane said in a stern tone. My rage boiled beneath my skin, why would she call me that?

"Like I said, I'm becoming a Lane." I spoke with a bitter tongue, never letting my stare falter.

"You're saying that to make yourself feel better. It's only been a month Daria. You have to give deaths time." She spoke softly, and sadly. I knew I had hurt her, but it was my defense mechanism. It's all I'd ever known. I didn't say anything. I couldn't think fast enough to make myself seem strong and stable. She pulled me in for a hug and I stayed there. Not worried enough to hug her back, but lonely enough to not pull away.

I had recovered the last month I resigned at the Lane household. I had quit going to band practices, and had gained the little weight that I had lost, and I was getting back to my normal sleep patterns around the time that my last year of college began. By the time that I was off back to college, I was sober and I stayed that way for six months. I was up to par in schoolwork, and worked at a nearby diner for extra money. I had finally begun to see the silver lining, if you can believe that. In just eight months I would have my Bachelor's Degree in English, and after graduation I would then set foot into the career world.

For my 21st birthday I drove back to Lawndale for Spring Break. The extra money I made at the diner didn't exactly cover an extensive Jamaican sexfest. I figured seeing my old friends would do just as well. I also kept in touch with Quinn that week, while her and her friends were in Tennessee. She had been grounded ever since our parents died. She was easier to talk to, and decided that the real issues in today's world didn't revolve around mascara and eyeliner.

I drove into the Lane's driveway around 2:30 that afternoon, I let myself in. I could already see a piece of paper sitting on the kitchen table. It noted that Jane wouldn't be back till about 4, but I was welcome to get the party started. I glanced over at the counter to my left, and there was a row of liquor eagerly waiting to be opened. Jane knew I couldn't stand this stuff, which was probably the reason she had bought it. I heard a rustling come from the basement, and assumed that Trent had risen. He soon emerged from the basement, shirtless, and obviously still high from the night before, or earlier this morning. Neither of us could quite be sure.

"Hey, when did you get in?" he spoke in a raspy voice that I was once used to, that I once blushed at the near sound, that now; meant nothing.

"Just got in." I motioned towards the arrangement of alcohol beside him. "Any of this your idea?" I smirked.

"Of course. You're 21 Daria, you have to celebrate. Jane was hesitant though." He spoke, as he stretched his arms high above his head, and yawned deeply, which inevitably lead to a pained chest cough.

"I can't imagine why." Daria said quieter, as she ran her finger from the cap of the Bacardi bottle, to the bottom, reliving her drug days in this household.

I couldn't remind you about the rest of the night. Somehow that Lane girl got me to drink. I threw up most of the next morning, and swore off liquor until my wedding.

Everything in between then and now had no significance. I met few people, made few friends, and dated even fewer men. My studies were through the roof, and I believed that if I didn't attend class the rest of the week, I would still pass with a high B. Although, I did lie that night, as soon as my head was out of the toilet and back in class, I overheard about quite a few parties. Occasionally I attended some, and afterwards I poured myself into bed each night. Tonight though, was different. I had found out about a party at a house a couple miles down, and I didn't feel like drinking out. I decided that I would drink in tonight. I bought myself a fifth of Captain Morgan, and called it a night. I returned to my dorm and flipped on my roommates shitty 17 inch TV. Of course, we didn't have the money to buy cable, so it was antennas all the way. It seemed as if every channel was reporting the same story, so I figured I may as well watch it.

"It's Tim Haynes reporting from downtown Los Angeles, where a dormitory gas leak has lead to an inferno that can be seen from Las Vegas…"

I glanced up from the gulp I had just taken from the bottle. The burn started in my throat, and it seemed that I couldn't swallow, but I forced it. The burn then drew on into my stomach, where it settled into a dull nausea.

"This building seen here is the Alpha Omega Delta building in the Pepperhill Campus. As far as we know, there are no survivors."

I flipped the TV off as fast as I could. I felt my heart race, and my palms moisten. I forced my phone not to ring, I mentally forced it not to ring. I replayed the events of one year ago in my mind, but my thoughts were shattered by my phone ringing, over, and over again.

"Hello?" I spoke in a worried tone.

"May I speak to Daria Morgendorffer?" a deep voice asked. My pulse heightened and my voice began to crack.

"You are." Was all I could manage before he let me know that my sister's remains were found inside her dorm closet, and her dental records identified her. I slowly shut the phone, not needing to hear anything else at this point. My parents, and then my sister. Instead of just being an outcast, I was officially alone in my family. I turned the TV back on; my sister, and four of her friends' faces were laid out across the tiny television screen. It was then that I dropped my phone, and began to drink my feelings.

I woke up in a foggy gaze and the walls appeared to move along with me. My pulse had weakened, and I could feel what was left of it pounding through my head. I struggled to keep my eyes open, and I tried to talk but my throat was dry and swollen. I began to think the worst, that I was following my family. I tried to reach out, and someone grabbed my hand. I forced my eyes to open wide enough to see who was there. It was Jane. I wasn't in my dorm room anymore, I was surrounded my nurses and they were rushing me along a small and crowded hallway. I could barely hear anything they were saying, but I did hear one thing.

"We're going to lose her!" a woman shouted as someone pushed a door open. That was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

A/N: Use your imagination to how it may have ended. Hopefully, I get some reviews that mean I can still pull together a decent one shot!