****************Please pay attention to the present/past times throughout this story. HOPING to make this one a mini-story, but we'll see. I have so many ideas so I'm trying to figure out how I can make my stories short stories instead of full ones! Hope you like this! I know it's confusing, but you figure out more with each chapter! ************************************

Chapter One- Fuck You

Present Time

I watched my footsteps carefully as I walked up the steep towards the sliding glass doors. I took a deep breath, eyeing Alex next to me. She looked scared, just as I did. Her brown curls glowed in the sunlight and as the breeze came across us, I could see a small tear falling from her cheek.

"Hey, it's alright Alex." I wrapped my right arm around her and pulled her in to an awkward side hug so I wouldn't ruin the flowers in my left hand. We were stopped on one of the steps and a few people had walked around us.

"Are you ready?" I asked after a moment, letting her recover herself. I didn't want her crying before we walked in.

"Yeah, let's go. I'm ready." She nodded slightly, wiping the last of her tears and giving me a fake smile.

I followed her footsteps generously until we reached the front desk. I moved to stand beside her as the nurse sitting addressed the both of us.

"Hello, we're here to visit Mitchie Torres." I spoke clearly and boldly, despite my chest aching and my hands shaking.

"She's only allowed one visitor at a time. And her visits are supervised. And you can't take those in with you" the nurse pointed to the flowers briefly, "Is that alright?" The nurse punched a few things into the computer as she spoke to us. I admired that she could type without looking at the keys.

"Yes, that's alright." I told her after Alex nodded to me in reassurance.

"Okay. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions. It's protocol at our facility." The nurse spoke professionally. Alex and I agreed.

One week ago

"Mitchie, wake up." I say, annoyed. I nudged her slightly. She'd been sleeping for almost twenty hours. She didn't budge. I shook her harder. One of her eyelids finally opened.

"Get up." I spoke roughly, practically ordering her. I turned my back to her as she muttered, "Fuck you."

Alex was downstairs cooking breakfast, I greeted her with a smile.

"She's very lively this morning." I tell her sarcastically, she rolls her eyes and places a few pieces of bacon on each of our plates. I could've woken her more politely but it never worked anymore.

"I didn't hear her throw anything so that's a good sign." She winks gently. I scoff at her reference to last week. Mitchie had managed to break everything in the room that she could reach from her bed. Some things I didn't know were possible to break by colliding with a person's head, like a CD. She threw a CD at my head, and it broke. In two.

"We're improving, I think." I tell her, taking my plate to the bar stool, shaking the memories of flying objects. Anymore thoughts of it and I'd get a headache again, somehow I escaped with minor scratches that have already healed. I took a few bites of my food before I checked my watch. I have ten minutes before I have to be on the road to work.

"You assholes could at least wait to talk about me until I'm down here. It's rude to talk shit without the person in the room." Mitchie pops a few pills in her mouth, sadly, it's mandatory for her so she doesn't fall unconscious. I grab her plate for her and set it in front of her at the table.

"Could you stop babying me, Shane? God." She rolls her eyes, standing up to get a glass of orange juice. I sigh, walking towards her bedroom to check her pill bottles, deciding to not fuel the fire that she's creating with her words. She mutters something to Alex as I walk up the stairs, I roll my eyes. I take her three pill bottles when I reach her room at the top of the stairs and take them one by one and count all of the pills in them. 50, 50, 50. Good, she's been taking them as prescribed.

Mitchie refused to let me or Alex watch her take them but she didn't refuse to let us count them. I count them before I leave for work and Alex counts them around lunch time and dinner time and I count them again before bed. Mitchie and I have been sleeping in separate rooms for the past three months. She began sneaking cocaine in the house and after I found a few bags of cocaine and needles that she'd used to shoot up heroin, I decided that I couldn't sleep with her anymore. Mitchie did enough to keep her high, but she maintained herself just enough to look presentable. I'd been spending all of my time at work that she could've looked deathly sick and I still wouldn't have noticed. Only the past six months has she done cocaine, meth and molly, among other hardcore illegal drugs. The past three months though, the drugs have been anything and everything she can get her hands on.

Mitchie has been doing heroin, cocaine, molly, and drinking excessively for the past two years. We're weaning her off of the hard drugs; we meaning Alex and I. Alex has been through it all with Mitchie and even though they drifted apart, Alex was the first, and only, to volunteer to help me get her sober. Mitchie and I's relationship has been rocky. We've been together for seven years. These past two and a half years have been the hardest, as a result, Mitchie became addicted to drugs and alcohol and I became a workaholic. I'm also working on my problem. I've cut my hours at work so I can better my relationship with Mitchie, however slow and unmoving it's been at the moment, but also because I've needed to gain some more quality time with my brothers, Nate and Jason, again.

So about a month ago I called Alex and asked if she would move into our house since we have a few spare bedrooms; thankfully, she agreed. Since she's a writer, she can work wherever which has been relieving for her. I didn't want to take her away from her career, she's been doing it since Mitchie and I got together; she was 18. So she stays home and takes care of Mitchie while I'm at work. Mitchie used to be a babysitter but last month I argued with her until she agreed to quit doing it until she was sober, even though she'd sworn to me she'd never done drugs in the presence of the kids, I couldn't risk her continuing to babysit them once I knew how deep she'd gotten into her addictions.

Mitchie and I's relationship had a big turn for the worst two and a half years ago and I honestly believed we'd gotten through it. I'm sure Mitchie felt the same way for a short amount of time too. We both pushed ourselves away from each other and into our own addictions to forget the pain, forget that we needed each other. And as a result, our relationship became a lie.

Present Time

After answering the nurse's questions, Alex insisted I go see Mitchie first. She wasn't going to take no for an answer so I obliged. I was escorted by a tall, bulky, six foot man who looked like he belonged in an MMA fight. We walked down a long and broad hallway, the hallway was brick and the bricks were painted a dull light gray color. The doors on the rooms were a bit of a darker gray. The doors to the rooms had small windows that looked like they belonged in a prison, they even had the sliding piece to the window that could completely eliminate sight into the hallway. Room numbers were in a dark, bold black color above each door; the handles to the doors were a white color. This place definitely fit the description of an insane asylum, I just never thought I'd ever have to visit one, or want to visit one, for that matter.

We turned down another hallway, a hallway that if you asked me, looked exactly the same as the previous one. We reached two closed double doors. I'm guessing most, if not all the halls were identical so that if someone got out, they would be confused as to where to go. Big and bulky MMA guy used his keycard attached to his belt to slide his key against the keypad. The double doors opened outward and we approached another set of double doors as we passed a few more rooms. Once again, the guard used his keycard to open this set of double doors. There weren't any more rooms that I could see, only one, at the far end of the hall. It, however, did not have a sliding piece, or a window for that matter. It was just a steel gray door. I gulped.

As we reached the door, the guard pulled out a chain of keys and used the only one that was red. He unlocked the door and I stepped back so he could open it.