Long story short. I really feel like a crap writer lately and I just can't get out what I want to write down (got a note book filled with ideas).

This is something to keep me going. Basically each chapter will be an independent oneshot all around 500 words each. Each will feature Carla and a character she may or may not normally interact with. I'm starting with the wonderful Hayley (as she's easy and will probably crop up again) but they might involve Kirk or maybe Dev (I may need to be drunk for that one) and some might be depressing in tone, others funny or even romantic. I'm also open to suggestions.

Think that about covers everything. Reviews are greatly welcome normally with a little happy dance.

Your portrait hangs in the hallway

A Small Comfort

In the end Carla hastily locks herself in a toilet stall. Her fingers curling into fists as she rests her head against the flimsy door. Finally her fragile restraints break so she bites down on her bottom lip to muffle her desperate crying.

It is the only place she has left to run to.

Her own flat had become a place of fear and demons, where she is alone and unable to escape the suffocating restraints of depression.

And she knows the people around her have never thought less of her. She had never minded when she had controlled their perception, the queen bitch. But now they knew all her sins, knew what was done to her and they hated her almost as much as she hated herself.

The bathroom door squeaks open and she freezes, holding her breath as she waits, tears still falling and catching on the edge of her lips. She could taste salt. The footsteps were hesitant and familiar.

Every day she thinks she sees the light in Peter's eyes dull a little more. Thinks that his ugly little flat would never become her home; how could it when she had literally took another woman's place in his bed and saw her clothes in the closet every morning.

Of course his child hates her and she fears it is all too much for the recovered alcoholic. Fears that she will destroy him too and that she should have warned him, or been brave enough to not take him down with her. So she tries to ease her dependence upon him. Holds as much as she can inside and secretly drinks instead because Peter is not strong enough to carry the weight of her.

"Carla, its Hayley. I couldn't help but notice you rush in here. Are you okay love?"

She almost smiles because of course Hayley would notice. The older woman's loyalty always took her by surprise even after everything they had been through together. She did not know how to ask for the other woman's support or think that she deserved it. But maybe one uncomfortably kind gesture was enough to prove that there was still good people left in the world.

"I promise no one else noticed. Just please come out." Carla can picture the other woman shuffle nervously. "Did Frank do something? Should I call Michelle?"

Carla swallowed and quickly wiped at her cheeks even though she knows it's futile as she slowly unlocks the door. It wasn't a threat but she couldn't stand the thought of Michelle's constant worry, the way she'd react angrily and make a scene when all Carla wanted was for it to go away.

She stares at her own feet as the door opens eventually summoning up the courage to look her employee in the eye. She tries for a self deprecating smile but knows she fails and it seems more like a grimace when Hayley sighed her name.

She regards the other woman wearily for a moment. The way her large eyes are glossy and filled with concern and sympathy but she sees no pity there and then she can no longer hold herself together. She found herself gathered in tight hug as her sobbing shook her entire body, her hands grabbing fist falls of cardigan.

Hayley whispered soothing nonsense and Carla was just grateful that she didn't ask questions as the other woman stroked her hair. She did not have the energy to explain how Frank would brush against her on purpose, or how she felt him watching her constantly. He made her feel sick, like she would never be free of his brutal cruelty. Or that sometimes it just became too hard to hide herself behind the disguise of measured indifference.

She thought she had no place left to run but she forgot she had a friend in the kindest woman she had ever known.