Part 1: Introducing, Ess Kidwell

"Ess, aren't you going to watch the movie?" Phoebe called from the living room. She spoke loudly, over the high-pitched cries of the ninjas on the tube TV.

"Ah, just a moment! … It's got to be here somewhere…" Ess muttered to herself, rummaging through the battered cupboard, "I thought there was still coffee-?" Ess called, finding a can of coffee, shaking it only to find that it's contents were empty.

"I thought, too. Oh well, come on!" Ess sighed, closing the cup board and trudging to the living room, plopping miserably on the sofa. Phoebe turned to her slightly. "It can't be that bad, can it? You can wait until tomorrow, right?"

Ess gazed over at Phoebe, who's glasses reflected from the TV screen. "Well, no. I mean, I can last. Possibly-"

"I knew it! You have an addiction to the stuff, don't you? How terrible…-"

"It is not an addiction! Maybe… borderline… but still, I'm under control." Ess shifted, turning to the TV.

"Oh, right. That was demonstrated well by you digging through my whole kitchen to find the stuff." Ess blinked, still staring at the TV, seemingly attempting to block Phoebe out."You probably like that stuff more than me."

Ess's brow furrowed. Was she joking? Soon, she just kept rambling. "Well, that's all right. It's okay if coffee is a better best friend than I am…" And so on.

"Are you all right?" Ess gazed at Phoebe, who was twitching slightly. Oh, great. It was happening again.

When Phoebe and Ess were small, Ess had always noted just how strange Phoebe's mother had always been. It was both intriguing and bittersweet to peer around a corner and snoop on her. She'd be bouncing around happily and singing one moment, slumped on a sofa, rubbing her sore arms miserably or caught in a fit of tears the next. It hadn't occurred to Ess until she were a bit older, that Phoebe's mother had a bipolar disorder. Over the few years that Ess lived with her friend, Phoebe's bipolar-ism was getting increasingly worse. Recently though, Phoebe was prescribed some sort of drugs to "help" with the disorder. "It's coffee. Why so worked u-"

"NO!" Phoebe shot up and onto on her feet in an instant. Ess went wide-eyed. "You live with me and spend more time with coffee. What am I? Boring or something?"

This was the most grotesque Phoebe had ever acted since Ess had known her. Ess felt as though she were in a love relationship gone awry. "There's no need to flip out, Pheebs…" Ess said, slowly standing to her feet. The was an uncharacteristically mad look on Phoebe's face. Her eyes all large and wild. In the past, she had never exactly attained this point. If anything, she'd go to her room and scream at the worst. She'd never allow Ess to witness her outbursts upfront. An image of the medicine bottle popped into Ess's mind just then. There was a terror-stricken silence, when Phoebe's gaze lowered to a knife plunged into a grapefruit on the coffee table. No! Ess thought, cold sweat trickling down the nape of her neck. That medicine, it has to be that damn medicine...! It was far too close to Phoebe for Ess to be able to stop her. Ess began to back away. "No… no, Phoebe, this isn't like you-" Ess's voice quavered as Phoebe began to foam from the mouth. A wicked grin crossed her face as she jerked the knife up and out of the fruit. Ess's stomach began to feel as though it were being clamped and twisted in every direction. It seemed no matter where she lived, someone always had to try and kill her.

Phoebe inched closer, clutching the knife and raising it up as Ess scooted her way to the door. Her fingers brushed the cold of the knob, and at that instant, Phoebe charged her, aiming for her stomach-though tripped-toppling directly on top of Ess. Ess's arm swung rapidly around her own waist to protect herself, the knife plunged in her arm. Screaming, she shoved Phoebe off of her while a knock was heard at the window.

"What is all that racket?" An older man's voice rang out from outside their doorway. Ess ignored him, running for the door with the knife still plunged in her arm, a piercing pain ripping through her flesh. She pushed the man out of her path and stumbled down the stairs of the apartment complex, gasping from the pain shooting within her arm. "I'm calling the police!" The man called after her, but Ess kept running. It was all she could think to do, she wasn't even sure where she was going. She ran past a corner store and a McDonald's, and a few gas stations before she was several blocks away from the complex. Running blindly past shops, Ess came to a stop at last, beside a drug store. Without even realizing it, she fell to her knees, hot tears rolling down her cheeks, panting and coughing from the recent sprint. The tears came so suddenly, because of the physical pain, the emotional pain—just everything. What was she to do? Go back to Phoebe and try to help her? Stay away? She tried to kill me... She tried to KILL ME... The same line was on playback in her mind. Wincing at the pain in her arm, she stared down at the knife. Objective one had to be getting the thing out of her. Small rivers of blood trailed down the wound, screaming at her to patch it up so the deep red liquid will stay in her body where it belongs. Forcing her self into an awkward stand, she used her good arm to search her pockets. The first turned out empty, then the second, then at last, one of the back pockets held a couple of pounds.

Walking into the store had to be the most embarrassing thing Ess had to go through in quite some time. People gasped and stared, peered around the aisles. The attention was, at the least, excruciating. It reminded of her of walking in to class late and having the whole class turn their stupid heads to look and see. Except, this was a lot worse on so many levels. Making her way past the small group of people, she went to pick up a first aid kit, then tried scanning out as quick as possible. The cashier did a double take at Ess's arm. "Goodness," the jumbo woman breathed, her brown, shimmering eyes filled with disposition. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?" She was already reaching for the phone on the counter.

"No," Ess said flatly. "Thank you." It was difficult to remain her usual, kind self in situations like this. Forcing a smile, she didn't look the woman in the eye, and trudged outside into the eery, unwelcoming night.