This story will have a lot of fiction in it and a lot of heart. It'd be an honor if it had just as many fans as I think the story deserves.

Addison/Derek

In memory of their immortal love.

There is a time for departure even when there is no certain place to go.

By Tennessee Williams

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"That's too tight. I can't breathe!," she gasped out and her slightly shaking fingers hastily reached behind her back to loosen the black laces. Her hands were slapped away.

"Don't touch them. You look thin in this corsage," her mother admonished her while she pursed her lips, which had been all to frequent recently. "You can't presume yourself to go without one, not if you want them to sign you on."

Attempting to force at least a little bit of air into her tightly compressed lungs, Addison screwed up her coral lips. "What if I don't?"

Elizabeth pulled the laces a little tighter, exciting another gasp from her daughter. "You do. My daughter will not be an unworthy sales assistant. I raised you to be classy, ambitious and beautiful."

Another pull. "Don't dare to disappoint me," she hissed into the redhead's ear.

She took a proving glance at the clock gracing the wall behind her. "Hurry. I don't want you to be late."

Addison watched her mother leave her room in the mirror, she never turned to face her willingly. The door closed and Addison promptly loosened the laces compressing her torso. The air rushed into her thirsty lungs as she slowly sank onto the floor before the mirror and ran one of her long-fingered hands over her delicate face. She could do this.

Pulling herself up onto her high-heeled shoes, she cursed under her breath. Her lipstick was smeared and small crumbs of her mascara were shadowing her eyes. "Fuck …"

Addison hastily wiped the smear and crumbs away with a handkerchief and, drawing a deep breath, she tottered out of her room and into her death.

If you think a weakness can be turned into a strength, I hate to tell you this, but that's another weakness.

By Jack Handey