Disclaimer: For this and all additional chapters, I own nothing of Tolkien's. I only borrowed one of his characters and I promise to put it back exactly the way I found it.

I knew he was there even before I looked. My hands clutched the pillow as I struggled to calm my pounding heartbeat and to focus my breathing. I could see him in the corner, leaning against the wall, tucked at the corner of my vision. The moon nudging itself over the horizon ran long, lazy fingers across his chain mail, the hilt of his sword, finally catching on the stone in his ring. Well, hail to the King, I thought scornfully.

He held the same intense gaze that had stared out from my wall poster for the past month. There was no mistaking it. Even with my eyes pressed shut and colored lights cavorting behind my lids, I could sense him there, waiting. It didn't make sense - he wasn't even real, but then, what was real, anyway? What your senses told you? Mine had been screwing with me for the last hour; I no longer cared to think it through. I opened my mouth and whispered, "Why are you here?"

His voice came to me like the wind rolling in the grass and resounded inside of my head: "I know not. Neither do I know how I came, but I must leave. Is there any way out from here?"

"Leave then." I didn't feel like talking, especially with figments of my own imagination. "Door's that way."

I heard my floor groan as he moved across the room. The doorknob creaked..."Wait!" I sighed. "He's- my dad's watching the door. You shouldn't leave, not just yet. Maybe he'll go," though I knew it was futile. This night, of all nights, my parents would be watching.

He returned to the corner. "I'm Alex..." I couldn't finish. The colors were spreading and folding again behind my lids. I shook my head, trying to clear them, trying to ignore the singsong chant of "Dar-vo-cet, Dar-vo-cet..." parading through my mind. It wouldn't help me any to think about it. The last dose had worn off and there wouldn't be another one coming. Not ever. No matter how much I needed them, they couldn't help me anymore.

I felt shivers sputter through me and bit down, willing myself to lie still. Would this ever end? Someone had told me once that the first night of withdrawal was always the hardest. No one ever said how hard, I griped. I waited for my body to quiet, then rolled onto my back and squinted at the clock on the other side of the bed. He was standing just beyond it, tinged in green light; out of the corner of my eye I could see him. The glowing "9:58" lit up the edges of his face and folded the rest into shadows. I sighed. It was still early. It was still only the beginning.

I rolled back to face the wall. Damn them! I cursed my parents silently. I thought of my father sitting smugly in his chair just outside my door. It was his fault anyway, his and my mother's. They could have left me alone, they could have left her alone, but no, they just had to get involved. And look what happened - I was here, imprisoned alone in my room, without even the comfort of my little pills, and she...I pushed that thought aside. I didn't want to think about where she was.

I heard him stir. "You are angry." His voice was passing in and out of my head, drowning out the lilting chant. "Has the man outside harmed you?"

"Yes - no," I whispered. I squeezed my eyes again. "He- and my mother too, they were inside when I...I came home, see, and they knew everything ..." I tried to sort it out in my head. I put the images in order: me lying on the grass as the stars rolled overhead, tranquility coursing through my veins. The pill bottles lying against my fingers, the world reeling and backing away. I was safe, I didn't have to think about her...Then driving along the narrow highway, the liquid blanket within me rolled back a little to expose the pricking edge of reality. Pulling up to the house and seeing the lights on, and them waiting in the doorway.

I tried to speak but he cut me off. "Yes, I can see it..." So there was no need for me to explain. He could see, then, the broken pictures pattering through my mind. "They found the boxes, knew the medicines were too strong. Too numerous. You must have received them from many healers." He paused. "The healers did not know this when they gave them to you."

I nodded. "Sort of." I remembered my parents speaking once I was inside the house - "Alex, we went in your room to clean and we found the boxes, the labels from different doctors. How long has it been? Your savings must be nearly gone...Alex, you should have told us..."

Me, clinging to the banister, wondering crazily how it could all end so fast. "I'm still in school. I still work on Saturdays. Everything's just fine." Why did they have to go and screw it up?

My mother walking toward me, her eyes swollen, "Alex, it's not fine. It's not at all 'fine.' We'll watch you tonight, to make sure nothing happens, and in the morning we're taking you to a place where they can help you."

My head shaking, no, no, my father sighing, "Alex, it's not a choice." Turning to face him: "Be ready to go at 6 - it's a long drive. The only reason you're not going tonight is that we don't want anything to happen on the road. We could end up too far from a hospital."

I blinked. They sent her away and now they're sending me. My own parents. My jaw tightened and I gripped the corner of the pillow. How dare they, how dare they? I was eighteen. I could take care of myself. They should have just left me alone! Pools of anger gurgled inside of me. It wasn't fair. As long as my father stood watch there was nowhere I could go. I closed my eyes and pulled the sheets over my head.

My nightshirt rose and fell languidly in front of me. Gradually, I felt my heart slow to a quiet murmur, and shadows began to curl the edges of my thoughts. I smiled faintly. I could escape into sleep.

He was still there, though. I could hear him in the corner, his breath easy as the air passing through the trees. Awake. Alert. Watching.