You see Sandy.

She's hanging out with some well-dressed friends of hers, probably from that new fancy university.

You're out drinking with your friends.

Justin, the alcoholic who brought you down the this club, knows her.

They dated for two years.

He smiles drunkenly at her, she scowls back. He winks at you. "I still got that charm with her, ay?"

You decide to approach her.

"Hey. Uh, I-I'm Chris. Do you like cats?"Her grin is lopsided.

"Yeah, uh, hi, I'm Sandy. I like cats. Are you drunk?" You smile encouragingly.

"So am I! Wow! What a coincidence!" She's laughing now, and she drags you out of the bar, to the catcalls of her friends and yours. "There's a cat cafe about a block down. Wanna go?" All you can do is nod.

You meet up at the cat cafe again and again. It's got the shittiest food, but the best drinks. You love it.

You're dating her a month later.

(Past)

You two move in together. A run down apartment in the middle of a bustling city. 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom, 1 tiny kitchen and a lounge. She loves it.

So do you.

She wants to get a pet, but cats aren't allowed in the building. You suggest fish. She suggests Dwarf Hamsters. You get one.

Her name is Fluff, and she's the cutest little thing you've ever seen.

(Past)

She went to a party 3 hours before and hasn't answered any of your calls. You're worried. She can be a bit... hot tempered at times.

It's 3:36am and some idiot's banging on your apartment door. You open it and Sandy stumbles in, drunk to high hell, and sporting a black eye. She pushes you, mumbling incoherently, before passing out in your arms.

You take her to bed and grab some aspirin and a cup of water in preparation for the hangover the next morning.

You call the doctor as she drifts off to sleep next to you, and they hurriedly tell you to check if she has a concussion.

She does.

(Present)

The busted red Ute stinks. There are unidentifiable stains on the seats, and beer cans and wrappers litter the floor. Justin, the alcoholic who introduced you to Sandy, is sitting next to you. He's ignoring you. You ignore him right back. Matt, Justin's friend, swerves the truck into the parking lot.

You jump out, relishing the fresh scent of the outside, instead of the hot and sweaty smell of the Ute. They drive off before you've even closed the door.

"Well fuck you too." You mutter under your breath. You hear a distant "Cya Chris!" and laughter. Huffing, you begin the trek down the path. You pass a board with a bunch of signs on it. A map, bear country, yadda yadda. Not important. Already, the view is beautiful.

"Maybe I should have brought my camera..." You whisper, staring at the pine trees towering over you.

(Past)

Her father died. She cried herself to sleep, and didn't go to the funeral. You try to stay with her, but she always lashes out at you.

You suggest she visits family, and she does. She goes to her sisters home in California. You call her every night but it just doesn't feel like enough.

She has a job there now. It pays well, and she doesn't really want to go home. She wants you to move to California and live with her, but you can't pay for the trip there. She decides to send you money.

(Past)

The money hasn't come yet. You ring her, and she tells you that she's sent it.

You're worried, and ask her to drive, or send some more money. Her job doesn't allow her the time to drive too you.

And she can't send any more money because all of her savings were sent to you. She's broke, and her sister is sick.

(Past)

She still hasn't visited, and her calls become less and less frequent. She never replies to your texts.

She doesn't tell you much. You don't know whats going on in her life.

You feel cut off.

(Present)

The view is stunning. Absolutely beautiful. Pine trees are swaying in the breeze. What would make it better? If you still didn't have a day of hiking to your lookout. If only you had a radio, maybe you could talk to someone. "God fucking damn, I'm going to go insane if I don't talk to someone for another day. Maybe I'll become the local psycho killer."

No one replies.

(Past)

She shows up at your door in the middle of the night. She's drunk again.

You take her in and go to kiss her, but she pushes you away, looking disgusted.

"Don't touch me! You creep!" She runs into your bedroom and closes the door.

You yell at her, scream, cry and bang on the door. "Sandy! It's me, it's Chris! Please let me in!"

You sleep on the couch that night.

(Past)

She gets in a lot of fights.

Every night she comes home drunk, with some kind of injury. The next day she remembers nothing.

You beg her to never go back to the clubs again, but she ignores you.

She ignores you a lot now.

You're losing money, and fast. You try to tell her this, but she doesn't believe you. She says it'll get better, but you know it won't.

It's been 3 weeks since she last showed up at her job. You got a call, while she was out partying. It was her boss. She doesn't have a job anymore.

You tell her the next day, and she goes out drinking too 'relieve the pain'.

One night, she doesn't come home.

No showing up in the middle of the night, no calls or texts. Nothing.

You call her sister, her friends, even the club she frequents. They have nothing.

The police have nothing either. But the club is shut down. It turns out that all the drinks in the club were spiked.

Not spiked as in alcohol, spiked as in drugged.

There is a funeral. You don't go.

There is an application for a job in the paper.

You take it.