I shouldn't be starting another story when others need to be written and updated but I was bored, wrote some drabble and I think figured out a plot. Hopefully this story will be short but who knows? Not too sure when I'll update again, but just remember I never start a story I don't intend to finish and soon this storyline will probably consume my mind lol. So, this is just a short little intro I suppose. Hope y'all enjoy!

She sits, legs bent and crossed in the window sill, running one hand through her greasy tangled hair, the other clutching a cigarette between her fingers. She wants to leave, get out of this apartment and this god damn city. Her fingers move to the cross that lays against her bare chest, outlining it softly. Ever since she moved to this city, she's attended church regularly, why she has almost no clue and it doesn't seem to help. But it seems like the only thing left that can give her some sort of hope.

"I gotta go." She nods mindlessly, bringing the cigarette to her lips and inhaling deeply, closing her eyes and enjoying the release. He leaves, giving her an empty kiss in her hair before turning with his jacket in hand and going out the door. That's when the tears come, because she knows it has to stop. She has to leave because she can't be by him, not now, not for a while.

Tonight, she'll pack basics, and then go to St. Patrick's in the morning and speak to Father John, trying once more to seek some sort of advice that she probably wont take and instead fly to Milan to meet her mother. The boy that's been consuming her free time will be a distant memory and everything she's screwed up will be fixed.

She takes one last drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out, the glowing embers burning her white window sill slightly, leaving an everlasting mark on the wood.

The last time she went to mass, the Father giving the sermon said that 'weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning'. She laughs harshly because she knows there will be nights filled with tears and heart wrenching sobs and screams that'll make her neighbors think she's being murdered before there is one solid morning of something good, something stable, something more than this.