E

It seemed as if the heavens had opened and God was throwing all he had at me, the rain flying into my face soaking my already mud covered clothes as I made my way to my home, my safety. She would help me. She promised. If I had ever needed anything, no matter what, big or small, she would be there. She would... I knew she would. She would keep me safe.

J

"You know what...Fuck you Bobby!" I could hear his bellowing laughter floating up the stairs behind me as I retreated to my haven. To sit on my own for a few hours of the day and do what I loved. Bobby had always been overly protective of me, even before the shooting. I could remember how he used to be, he could call me all the names under the sun, beat on me, but anyone else try to even touch me without my consent and he came down on them like a tonne of bricks. But since, it had gotten to the point when if I wasn't back in the house by 12, he would be ringin me and demand to know where the fuck I was. Here I am; 22 fucking years old and I have a fucking midnight, 'where the fuck are you' curfew. Bobby had been driving me insane, the constant questions, and the constant nagging to get up and do something. I was fucking doing something I have a fucking job, I get up I earn my way on stage, why the fuck couldn't he just leave me the fuck alone.

E

I could hardly feel my hands or feet, the rain had turned into sleet and the sleet into snow. It wouldn't be long now though, till I could crash into her loving arms and let her know how much I needed her in my life, how much I would always need her. How I wish I had stayed. There it was; her door... The house had changed, oh it still had the same brick work the same crappy front yard with the neighbourhood kids hockey shit all on it, but it was somehow... different. There wasn't the overwhelming warmth that I could remember, something was missing.

B

The chick was still out there. What was it with her? For the past twenty minutes she had been gazing up at the house but refusing to inch any closer towards the door. If she didn't make up her fucking mind to knock on the fucking door or leave in the next ten minutes I would make it up for her. Had I been too harsh on Jack recently? Ever since Ma's death and almost losing Jackie I'll admit, I've been a little more overbearing and perhaps a tad too obsessive about his safety but what can I say, I love the little fucker. He's my little brother, fairy or not. Like fuck was I gonna apologise though. Lil cock sucker knows what I'm like...For fuck sake, she's still there... you know what, I'm just gonna go out there and tell her to knock on the fucking door or fuck off.*

E

Something about the place no longer gave me that feeling of home, of safety. I couldn't feel her presence that usually from no less than thirty paces, enveloped and me. I couldn't be sure how long I had been standing outside the house, just gazing up at the light in the front bedroom, the room that had been mine in my short, but memorable time living with Evelyn Mercer. I could have been stood there for hours for all I knew; I wanted to knock, to see her, to hug her, to feel her arms surrounding me, keeping me safe. But at the same time a sense of foreboding stopped me, telling me that something was drastically wrong. It was then I saw him open the door.

B

"What the fuck do you want you crazy ass bitch. You've been stood out here just gazing at my fucking house for the last half a fucking hour. Now either you tell me what the fuck you want, or... and this is my hope, you get the fuck outta here ok?" Maybe I came on a little too harsh, but the staring had been freaking me out. And that's when I saw it.

E

I knew who he was the instant he stepped foot outside the door. In my short time of staying with Evelyn I must have heard his and his brothers names mentioned more than a million times. Evelyn truly loved them and was proud of how they had turned out. There wasn't a day that went past when she didn't show off some old photo or get out an old home video of them. But that's what I love most about her. How much she loves. I knew she would never turn me away, all I needed to do was speak to her and all would be alright. She would sort me out, get me a job, get me back on my feet; just as she had done for me three years ago and just as she had done for countless others who passed through her doors. I saw his gaze shift from my haggard face downward towards my protruding stomach.

J

I could hear Bobby's pacing from upstairs, serves the fucker right if he felt bad. Of course he wouldn't apologise, Bobby Mercer does not apologise, but you know when he knows he's wrong, he forgets the argument. Suddenly the door crashed open and I could just about catch him shouting at someone in the street. That wasn't like him. I mean sure he had the odd 'play on your own fucking yard' rant at them every so often but that was only if he was pissed. I couldn't stop myself I wanted to know who he was yelling like that at. I could hear the odd word floating up every so often...'Crazy ass bitch...gazing at my fucking house...' Who the fuck was he talking to?

B

Holy shit! She looked fit to burst. But what the fuck was she doing here? Then she finally spoke... "I... I... I was wondering if I could speak to Evelyn." And then collapsed. Fuck. The poor kid couldn't be any older than Jackie; here she was no less than half way through her pregnancy and weighed nothing, she was wearing nothing more than a summery dress and a thin overcoat. How the fuck she made it this far I couldn't guess. All I knew was that I couldn't leave her out here. She'd need to know about Ma, but that could wait, at least until she'd eaten something. Yeh, yeh I was beginning to sound like a pussie, but how many people would leave a pregnant woman out in the Detroit winter to fend for herself. Not even Bobby Mercer was that un-fucking-feeling.