Authors Note: This is my first fan fiction ever. I roleplay, but the two aren't the same. Thank you for reading and it would really make my day if you favorited or reviewed! I'm not sure if I should keep or replace the ending so suggestions are welcomed. Dontcha wanna be the first person to review me EVER!
I couldn't take listening to those muffled cries anymore. It wasn't that they were loud, because they were pillow soft, and it wasn't because they were annoying. It was because they were breaking my heart.
I couldn't stand to watch Maureen, the biggest drama queen, cry like that about her lover, Joanne, being in the hospital. Joanne checked herself into the hospital with an extremely high fever after having a major fight with Maureen about cheating. Maureen was always sleeping around but this time she didn't do anything and the names Joanne said actually hurt for once. Or so Maureen said, anyway. Maureen was always extending stories and exaggerating to protect her pride, but listening to how upset she was made me believe her.
"Mo?" I knocked on the threshold of the door, poking my head between the wood wall and plaid blanket Mark and I call a door. It matches my pants, so it isn't that bad I guess. I'm no interior decorator.
Maureen was curled up with a pillow on Mark's bed. She was always welcome there, if you know what I mean. Her emerald eyes were half open and pouring out tears, but her face wasn't red or puffy at all, like Mimi's got. Maureen looked as beautiful as she always did, but it scared me to see her so lifeless. She looked almost dead, still and unmoving, I don't think she even noticed me, or else she would've hit me or told me to shut up and go away like she usually did. Good old Maureen.
"Mo?" I asked again, walking over to her and sitting beside her, putting my hand on her shoulder. Maureen barely stirred, closing her eyes and letting tears roll down her face. I wasn't sure which was hurting her more, their fight and breakup, or the fact that Joanne was in the hospital, but I think it was the second.
Maureen was laying down, curled around her pillow, so I laid next to her and put my arm around her. She felt warm, though I was expecting the opposite because the window was wide open, blowing winter air onto her frail body. She looked really thin, like she hadn't eaten much lately. Knowing Maureen, she probably hadn't been. Combined with the tears, she looked delicate, more than I had ever seen. "Maureen, what's wrong?" I whispered, moving my head so that my cheek was on hers.
"Joanne." Maureen sobbed, and I could feel her try to move out of my grip. I moved my arm, worried that she maybe really didn't want me there, but instead, Maureen turned on her other side, ditching the pillow, and crying into my chest instead. I put my arms around her again, shocked with her innocence and vulnerability.
I don't think I had ever been this close physically to Maureen. Emotionally, we had always been close, but I don't ever recall her using me as a rag for her eyes. I didn't know what to do, either. Just whispering in her ear didn't seem like it was helping. Poor thing was literally shaking. I loved Maureen more than I thought or admitted to, and seeing her so upset broke me apart.
After I whispered to her for about an hour (which went by rather quickly) that everything was going to be okay, Maureen was still shaking a bit but seemed to calm down. Thinking she was cold even though her body was warm, I decided closing the window might be good. Maybe even making her some tea. Mimi bought a box, so I knew we had some left. "Maureen, I'm gonna make you tea, okay?" I asked, slowly letting her go and standing.
Maureen nodded slowly, unmoving again. I hesitantly found my way into the kitchen and put on the tea. Damn. She was so upset and it didn't seem like what I was doing helped her at all. I'm sure she appreciates be trying, right? I hope so. I wish there was a way to get her to stop thinking about this for a while. I'm sure it's been on her mind since she found out, earlier this morning. If only she could be relieved of worry for a few hours, to not be herself...
And that's when I got my idea. Instead of getting Maureen wasted, which was probably a bad thought, I went into the bathroom to find exactly what I wanted. Sleeping pills. Perfect. Maureen would be still, calm, and untroubled in my arms.
I dropped five or six (That isn't too over the limit right? After being a junkie for years I forgot the proper dose.) into the mug when the tea was made and stirred it around so she wouldn't get an after taste. I never liked swallowing pills much.
I always preferred the needle.
Walking back into my room, I wrapped my arms around her again, this time sitting up and making her sit up and lean against me. "Thanks, Roger." she whispered, looking up at me with her sad, grief stricken eyes. It broke my heart to see her that way, so pensive about the whole thing.
We talked for another hour, and she told me how she felt about all this and I told her my advice. I'm not that great at advice, I guess. Maureen was listening though, her eyes on me the entire time.
I thought it was cute the way her eyes closed and how she'd open them a second later, pretending not to be tired. I always knew Maureen was gorgeous, but I never really noticed the cute little things about her. I wonder if she's ever felt the same way about me. Wait, what the hell am I saying? This is Maureen, after all. Maureen, the drama queen. Maureen the bisexual drama queen who dumped my best friend for a girl. Yeah, that Maureen.
She fell asleep against me, visibly exhausted from all the sleeping pills and the stress. From how lethargic her breathing sounded, I could tell it was from the pills. Six isn't that much right? I don't think so either. I locked my arms around her and laid down, bringing her with me so that we were in the same position as before.
As the night progressed, her stillness started to concern me. She was so tranquil that if I couldn't feel her slow breath on my neck and her heart beating belatedly against mine, I would've thought she was dead. It wasn't like her to be quiet or to cry in front of me, and both scenarios had me pretty worried. I nuzzled her neck, to let her know someone was watching out for her.
I looked out the window, at the stars gleaming overhead. I never really noticed them before. Nor did I ever notice how pretty and vulnerable Maureen really was. I turned back to look at her, and I almost wished, in a way, she didn't have to wake up. That I didn't have to leave, that Mimi didn't have to come home, that Joanne didn't have to return from the hospital, that I could lay here with Maureen, our troubles floating elsewhere.
Our problems would be flying in the wind, being carried away from us. No troubles, no tears, no cheating, no lies, no AIDS, no poverty.
Just me and Maureen.