My Depression

School let out, and Mary walked out, hanging her head as she headed towards the school gates. Her arms hung loosely by her sides, and everyone avoided her as they walked out, not even giving the girl a second glance.

It had been a month now since she had entered High School, and news about her spread quickly. While a few people approached her the first few days to try and befriend her, Mary would look away and completely ignore them. Her performance in class was doing just as poorly as it was in Middle School, due to the fact that she always hung her head down and stared blankly at the page in front of her. When called upon to answer a question, she would ignore it, and continue to stare blankly. Now even her professors had given up on her.

She walked down the sidewalk, and she noticed from her peripheral vision that Ib was standing at the end of the sidewalk she was walking down. She simply turned around – it wouldn't be the first time she took the long way to Ib's house.

Trudging through downtown, she noticed that Ib was again standing ahead of her, so she took the nearest turn, taking an even longer detour to her home. She gripped her fist, and loosened it, trying not to shake when she again saw Ib at the end of this sidewalk. She lifted her head for the first time, glancing around with her lifeless eyes – to the right was Ib was as well, and when she looked behind, she was there too.

"Why?" She wondered to herself. Her lips trembled as she went the only possible way that was left open for her.

She pushed through the crowd, and finally came out to a park. She glanced around, and saw that Ib was nowhere nearby. Had the girl been leading her here? She walked along the sidewalk and finally saw someone she knew well. The man had purple hair, and was very rugged. The people walking made a very large berth, since he was taking swigs from a bottle rapidly.

She frowned, and at the very back of her head, she was pleased that she wasn't the only one suffering so badly. She had actually seen him around town occasionally, but never went to talk with him. There were days where he looked fine, and then there were days like these where he became a wreck. It seemed random, and Mary had no idea how to identify which days were which for him.

She went to walk away from him again, but when she turned around, Ib was standing right behind her, looking up at her.

Mary shook upon seeing the nine year old girl there, "What do you want me to do?"

Ib offered no answer, like every other time.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

Ib's eyes flickered over to Garry briefly before settling back on Mary.

Mary nearly jumped in surprise – that was the most that the image of Ib had ever done. She frowned and turned back towards Garry, blinking rapidly. She didn't want to talk to him... She just wanted to go home and sleep... She turned back to Ib, "I don't wanna..."

Ib impassively stared at her.

Mary started to cry, not caring that there were people around her, "I'm sorry, ok?"

Nothing.

"I – I want to die... But I'm too cowardly to go through with it..." She cried harder, "M – Maybe..." She turned to look at Garry, and she bit her bottom lip, feeling her body walking towards him almost unconsciously.

Garry noticed her immediately, and only stared at her, taking a quick drink from the bottle of vodka he was holding.

"Garry."

He looked aside, "What do you want?"

"Y – You know..."

Garry continued looking away.

"I – I killed her, and I – I liked it."

Garry looked over to her, his mouth was ajar in shock.

"You're an idiot! You just HAD to remember, didn't you? If you didn't say anything, it could have just been like a dream! But no, you remembered, and look where that got you! You're a worthless drunk on the side of the road! No one cares about you at all!" She was building up more and more volume as she talked, tears streaking down her face.

"Why are you...?" Garry was too bewildered to be mad.

"I took her life, her parents, EVERYTHING! It's all mine! Don't you hate me? Don't you want me to die?" She shouted, "While you are sitting there wasting away, I'm enjoying life! I love m- my family! My house..."

She furiously wiped her eyes, "Just kill me!"

Garry frowned, "No."

"Why not?" She shouted in despair, "Kill me!"

Garry was silent as he looked at her. Though not sober, his mind was still working in overdrive, "You want to die?"

"W – Why would I want to die?" She bluffed, "I just want you... to..." She let out a hiccup, "to know how..."

He shook his head, "I can't believe you're making me feel sorry for you." He got to his feet, "I'm leaving."

"No!" She shouted, falling to the ground grabbing her head and curling inwards, "I – I – I can't stand it anymore! She's dead... She'll always be dead..."

Garry walked away again, leaving her crying to herself.

Mary felt a hand touch her shoulder, and she knocked it away, looking up to see an older man looking at her with concern, "Go away!" She shouted, she looked around to see everyone looking at her, "Stop looking! GO AWAY!"

Most of the people started to go away, and Mary picked herself off of the ground and started back on her way to Ib's home, sniffling and trying to keep composed. Fortunately, she didn't see Ib at all the entire time, if she had, she doubted she could have kept herself together long enough to get to Ib's house.

As she entered the front door, she noticed that her parents were gone, which was just fine with her. She walked to her room, and closed the door behind her. She walked up to her bed, reached her arm underneath the mattress, pulling out a knife she had hidden under there. She sat down on the bed, and pulled down the long sleeve of her shirt, revealing many scars running up along the length of her arm. She brought the knife and dug it into her skin, creating a new scar to the collection, again, she noted that it was too shallow.

"Damn it..." She whispered.

She looked at the knife again.

"I don't want to live..." She thought, bringing it back up again, "I should just end it."

Ib was standing at her doorway now, just watching, like she always did.

"Come to watch the finale?" Mary spat out.

No answer.

"I hate you..." Mary mumbled, "I hate you! I hate you! Why did you have to start appearing in my life? Why couldn't you just die like a normal person? Why do I have to feel like this when I think about killing you?" She let out a gasp, "I wish I had died! I didn't realize that becoming a normal human would mean that I would feel like this! I wanted to try out new foods, see the sky!" She looked towards Ib, "You understand, right? You'd want out too!"

She forced out a bitter laugh, "I got all that, but the price was too high."

Ib again made no reaction.

"You wanted to let Garry be the one to kill me." Mary stated, "I'm sorry, I tried... I really did... But he didn't even strike me... He said he felt SORRY FOR ME!" She screamed out the last bit, stabbing the knife into her mattress, "I hate him too!"

Ib was closer now when Mary looked up.

"So I'm just going to end it here." Mary decided, showing the spirit, ghost, whatever, her arm, "I've tried practically every week for over a year now," She put the knife down, and revealed her other arm, "See? I... I feel... so bad... I don't deserve to live." She let out a sob, "I tried to end it all so many times, but I'm afraid... I don't want to die."

Ib came closer.

"That is what you felt like, right?" Mary asked, "You didn't want to die, but I heartlessly killed you. I wonder if this is what you felt when you realized that there was nothing that could be done to save you?" She put her hand on her heart, feeling it beating rapidly, "Did your heart feel like it would explode? Did you feel like a trapped animal?"

Mary let out a sigh, and picked up the knife.

"I'm done." She decided, "I've been holding this day off for a while, but I knew it would eventually come to this."

Ib's eyes looked towards the knife.

"Ah..." Mary held out the knife, watching Ib's eyes look at it, "D – Do you want to do it?"

Ib's gaze locked into Mary's eyes.

"No..." Mary said, "I suppose not. I guess this is goodbye."

Ib was back to just staring at her.

Mary held out her arm, and gripped her fist to try and stop the shaking. She poked the area she was going to stab, causing a little bit of blood to come out, and she let out a smile, "I hope I won't feel anything anymore when I die." She swung the knife down, fully intending to sever her artery. She looked away and closed her eyes, too afraid to watch.

She felt nothing.

She opened her eyes, and looked at her hand, and saw that Ib had reached out and took hold of the hand with the knife, preventing her from stabbing herself. Mary dropped the knife, letting it hit her carpeted floor, and she just looked at Ib, "Why?"

"Don't die."

Mary let out a surprised gasp, and stared wide eyed at Ib, "What?"

Nothing. Did she just hear that in her head?

"Ib..." She collapsed to the floor in front of the spirit, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I – I should have never killed you! I shouldn't have stolen your parents, or your room, or house!" She cried out louder, "I feel horrible! I'm a monster! Why don't you let me die? I deserve it! There is nothing I can do to change this! Do you want me to live with this guilt my whole life as punishment?"

Ib just stood there like she always did.

"Why are you appearing? What do you want from me?"

No answer.

She looked up, "How can I repent?! If you won't let me die, then how?!"

Silence.

"If you hate me so much... Why not just let me die?"

Ib shook her head.

"What?" Mary asked, "Y – You do hate me, right?"

Again, she shook her side to side.

"Wha... Why? Why not?!"

Ib just stared at her again.

"I deserve your hatred! I stole EVERYTHING from you!"

No answer again.

"If you don't hate me... Then..." She trembled as she stood, "Then why are you here...?"

Ib pointed towards the closet.

Mary blinked as she looked over towards it, and walked over, opening the door. She shoved aside dozens of dresses that Ib's mom had bought for her to try and make her feel better, and found a box in the back. She brought it back out, and in the middle of the floor she opened it, putting her knife far aside for now. Inside were a bunch of drawings that a little child would draw, Mary frowned, picking one up.

The picture depicted a scene of a little girl with red eyes and brown hair with two taller people, probably her parents, by her side outside of a nice little home.

"Wait..." Mary mumbled, "These... Are pictures that you drew?"

The ghostly apparition nodded.

"These are all that remain of you from this world..." Mary mumbled, shuffling through them, they seemed to go back to Ib's early years, and Mary again felt the immense guilt – she had killed this girl who loved to draw, and loved her parents so much.

Mary picked up a crayon from the box, and was surprised when Ib took it out of her hands, and sat down across from her on the floor, and flipped over one of the pictures. Mary watched in fascination as the ghost that had been haunting her for years wrote out a sentence, 'Do not be sad'.

"I don't understand..." Mary admitted, "I – I thought you were here because you wanted me to regret what I did to you, and never forget..."

'No. You brought me here.'

"What?" Mary gasped, "I – I'm the reason you're here?"

'Yes'.

"Why?"

'You feel guilty'.

Mary covered her eyes with her hands, "I've told you before... I killed you... I shouldn't have done that... You and Garry should have been the ones to escape..."

'No'.

"No? No what?"

'I want you and Garry to be happy'.

"You're not mad that I- I stole your life?"

'No'.

Mary couldn't comprehend that at all, "You should be. I – I'm a horrible person! A monster! None of this is mine! I hate myself! I want to die!"

'NO'. Ib's apparition was frowning.

"What do you want me to do?"

'Be happy'.

"I can't..." She cried, "I don't think I can ever be happy..."

'Help Garry.'

"Why?" Mary asked, "He hates me! I don't think he would let me help him anyway."

'He's in trouble'.

Mary thought about it, "He has been drinking a lot every time I've seen him."

'He feels guilty'.

"What?" Mary asked, "How?!"

'Thinks he should have died'.

Mary blinked, her mouth dropping open. Her stray thought from earlier, when she sadistically thought about how happy she was that she wasn't the only one suffering, was that more spot on than she initially realize? Garry was feeling guilty? Why? He had tried to help Ib! He was the one who condemned her like the monster she was! She couldn't understand how he could feel guilty!

'Let your guilt go'.

Mary frowned, picking up the nearest picture, and turning it around to see the image a five year old Ib had drawn, and had probably shown excitedly to her mom and dad, "I should show your parents these... So they remember you..."

Ib shook her head.

"No...?"

'Better if they don't remember'.

"But no one will remember you ever existed!" Mary cried, "You're a good person! You deserve more than being completely erased from every record! I'm going to show these to your parents! They need to know that I'm not the little 'angel' or 'saint' or whatever they like to call me!" She gasped for breath, "They need to know how worthless I am!"

Mary let out a surprised yelp when the picture she was holding ignited on fire, as did a majority of the rest of Ib's drawings. She looked up at Ib, and noticed the girl smiling for the first time she had started to see her.

'Be happy. They are your parents'.

Mary felt her lips trembling, "I don't think I can..."

'Try'.

"O – Ok..." Mary said, wiping her eyes, "I'll try."

'Help Garry'. Ib wrote down again on the last remaining paper.

"I will..." Mary promised, "I'll do whatever I can."

Mary wiped her eyes again, and opened them, and Ib was gone. She looked around her room, not seeing her anywhere, and finally looked down to see that there was one last picture remaining. Mary gently picked it up, and turned it around.

The picture was roughly drawn with crayons again, but unlike all of the other pictures, this one was recently made. Mary stood to the right in the image, the picture depicting her with a happy smile, and Garry stood to the left, also drawn with a large smile. Across the top, in big red bold letters were 'Be Happy'.

Mary blinked to get the tears to go away, and she placed the picture at the tip of her bed.

She would try to be happy for Ib, especially since that was the girl's last wish.

XxXxXxX

Mary decided to eat dinner with Ib's family that night, since she thought it would be a good first step towards becoming happy. When she walked down the stairs to confront them, they had been very surprised to see that she was out of her room.

"Um... What's for dinner...?" She asked quietly, making sure she wore a long-sleeve shirt to hide the scars she obtained over the years.

"Mary?" Saya said, her eyes widening when she saw her daughter.

"Hello..." Mary gave a hesitant wave. Doubts were going through her mind – was this the right thing to do? Should she even bother wasting her time doing this?

She was surprised when the woman gave her a hug, "Oh, Mary." She said, "We'll have whatever you want."

"I – I'm fine with whatever you want." Mary said.

Saya frowned, but shook her head, she was just glad that her daughter was talking to them again and not moping around in her room all day. No matter what she did, her daughter refused to talk, and even claimed at one point that she wasn't theirs! True, they did adopt her, but to say something so absurd made her incredibly sad and angry – the insistence that she wasn't their daughter due to blood was a non-issue as far as she was concerned.

"Saya?" Mary said questioningly.

"It's mom," Saya said, "Just call me mom."

Mary frowned, "I'll try."

"That's all I ask." Saya said, getting up and walking with Mary into the kitchen. Kohta was up and about, doing some paperwork at the table, and he noticed Mary walking in with his wife. He lifted a brow as his daughter came over to sit by his side.

"How are you?" He asked.

"I'm feeling better." She admitted, which was true, she hadn't seen Ib once so far since talking with the girl.

"Good to know," Kohta said, putting aside a note he had been writing, "Your mother and I have been quite worried for some time now."

"I know, but I think I'm ready to get over it."

"Get over what?"

She knew she couldn't tell them about how she was responsible for murder – not that they would believe her anyway, so she just shrugged, "Stuff."

"Did you take your antidepressants?" Saya asked, walking in.

Mary shook her head, "No, I'll take them after dinner."

Dinner was very quiet that night, no one really knowing what to say. Kohta would occasionally give Saya a glance, but the two didn't say anything as they kept an eye on their daughter. Mary was simply looking down at her food, and eating more in a single meal than she had since she could really recall. She didn't eat much though, since she was so thin now, so she finished eating well before her parents, and went to put her dishes away and take her pills.

She opened the pills which were worthless for her, but she didn't bother disputing the fact, not wanting to argue with Saya or Kohta, so she went ahead and took them.

"It's good to eat dinner together again." Saya said, coming in with her own dishes.

"I guess." Mary shrugged, "It was awkward."

"It's because you haven't been out of your room in so long." Saya explained, "It was just a bit of a shock to see you willingly eat with us."

Mary bit her bottom lip, and looked aside, "I'm sorry..." She whispered.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Saya assured her.

"No, there's a lot to be sorry about." Mary countered, wishing she could tell the woman in front of her about the daughter she once had. How good the girl was, how smart she was, and how kind she was, but there was no proof remaining anymore, and the woman wouldn't remember no matter what, regardless of what she did, since she didn't go into Guertena's world. She blinked rapidly to stop her tears from falling – she had done enough crying as it was.

"What's wrong?" Saya asked.

"N- nothing." Mary said, inwardly cursing when her voice shook.

"You know you can talk to me about whatever you need, right?" Saya placed her arm on Mary's shoulder, "You're my daughter after all."

"No..." Mary cried, "No I'm not..."

"Mary." Saya spoke sternly, "We're not going over this again, you hear? I love you regardless of whether we're related by blood or not!"

Mary shook in place, wondering if she would be able to do as Ib asked of her, her hands started to shake, and she thought back to the knife she had in her room. Maybe she should...

"I love you," Saya wrapped her arms around her, interrupting her darkening thoughts, "No matter what happens, I always will."

"Would you be saying that if I told you that I murdered your real daughter?" Mary asked, "A daughter related to you by blood?"

"What are you talking about?" Saya asked.

"A - A nightmare." Mary mumbled, unable to tell the full truth. However, even getting that out made her feel better – it wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't necessarily a lie either.

"I don't know how I'd feel in that situation." Saya answered, "Sad, angry, depressed?" She listed off emotions she might feel, "I don't know."

"So you'd hate me then?" Mary asked.

"In that instance..." Saya sighed, realizing that this meant a lot to her daughter for some odd reason, "I would need to know a motivation."

"To escape." Mary said and continued to elaborate, "To escape a prison with no other way out. There's no food, sunshine, human interaction or anything. It's just a big nightmare that I was stuck in for eternity. I'd have to murder someone to take my place so I could leave, and your daughter was the first person in decades to appear."

"In that case, the murderer's motivation is sympathetic." Saya said, "But even so, to subject my daughter to all of that?"

Mary's lip trembled. She knew it, she was a monster, she was a horrible, horrible person.

"I suppose I could be thankful that the murderer wanted to kill them then, instead of leaving them there alive." Saya answered, "The thought of someone being left in a nightmare like that alive is heartbreaking, so the nicest thing a person can do to escape would be to kill the person they are replacing in there, so they don't have to be subjected to that torment either."

"I still killed her though," Mary sobbed, "I still feel guilty."

"If the murderer apologized to me, and explained their motivation, and went on to do good in their life," Saya said, "Then perhaps I could understand them, and even support them." She shook her head, "Why do you think of such depressing things?"

Mary got onto the floor, "I'm so, so, so sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," She repeated, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Mary, stop it." Saya reached down and lifted her off the kitchen floor back to her own feet, "You're making me upset talking like this."

Mary stood, "I – I promise, I'll do good, I'll try to make things right."

Saya tilted her head, "What are you talking about?"

Mary shook her head, "Nothing."

She sighed, "Mary, these past few years I've had a very hard time understanding you."

"I'm sorry," Mary mumbled.

"Stop apologizing," Saya said, "I don't know what has gotten into you, but I want you to understand this: I love you, I always will. I've known you for almost twelve years now, and I never, NEVER regretted adopting you. Please, stop acting like this and become happy again like you used to be."

Mary's eyes widened when she heard the same request that Ib had for her in what Saya said, and she nodded, "I'll try."

"That's the best I can hope for," Saya smiled, "Now can you give you mother a hug?"

Tentatively, Mary reached forward and wrapped her arms around her mother awkwardly, and gave Ib's – no, her mother – a hug. Ib said it was all right, Saya herself was saying it was all right, so that meant it wasn't wrong to think of her as her mother, right?

"T – Thank you... M – Mom."

Saya's eyes widened, and she hugged her daughter tightly, "I love you."

"I – I love you too..." Mary said, feeling hot tears leaving her eyes yet again. When they parted, she noticed that her mother was crying too.

Maybe things would turn out better after all.

XxXxXxX

School was difficult, and catching up on the amount of work was a daunting task, especially since she slacked off in every class, not doing any of the required work, and barely paying attention to the tests and readings in class. How she even made it to High School was a wonder in itself as far as she was concerned, but she was prepared to make up for it.

The first day she actually tried in class was a surprise – she was called on to read a section of a chapter the class was currently studying. She used to just ignore it and wait for the teacher to move on, this time she stood up with the book in hand, and began to read the required text. When she stopped, she looked up, and noticed that the class – half of whom took classes with her in middle school – were staring at her in shock, and even her teacher was pleasantly surprised. She took a seat, blushing as the next person got up to read.

The hardest thing she had to do by far was her algebra assignments – she hadn't been the greatest at math even when she did try years ago, and now it looked like a completely different language to her! She didn't know what the dots meant, and why were there x's and y's? Wasn't math about numbers? Why in the world did they need to know this?

No matter what the task, she would just let out a breath, and get to it, determined to put her life back together to obtain the happiness that Ib told her to seek.

She started to do homework with her parents, who were more than willing to help her with her assignments. Mary felt horrible once more, realizing how much trouble she had been subjecting her parents to all these years.

"I don't get it," She finally grumbled, "Why do I need to know this?"

Kohta chuckled, "That's the greatest question in life. I don't even need to know this stuff, they just give it to kids in school to make em work."

Mary smiled, thankful for her father's support. She was thankful that neither of them blamed her for her lack of understand, or told her that the reason she didn't know was because she never paid attention. Instead, they were always willing to go through things upwards of five or six times in a row, and they were understanding and through every single time.

Her social life was still a wreck though. She supposed it might be because of her clothes – she always wore a long sleeve shirt, even when it was warm outside, and she was still hesitant to talk to new people anyway. She didn't know all the rumors going on about her, but she was aware of one where she was apparently a demon, and that anyone who approached her would have bad luck.

Honestly, who in the world would believe in that trash?

Despite the ridiculousness of the rumors about her, they did keep people away from her, which was both a blessing and a curse. She wouldn't even know what the first thing to say to someone would really be beyond 'hello' since she had so little social interaction within the last four years. Whenever someone gave her a polite greeting when she was out in the city, she would shyly greet them back, trying to readjust to normal social circumstances.

She had also started to gain back some weight, which was immensely beneficial to her, since she was almost severely underweight. She started to suspect her mother of putting on a little bit more food on her dish each night, making sure to tell Mary to clean her plate completely. Mary always obliged her, knowing that she needed it, and it didn't hurt that the food was fantastic either.

The biggest change however was the fact that she wasn't seeing Ib anymore. No matter where she went, the girl wouldn't appear. She had begun to get so used to seeing the girl that she was almost uncomfortable now that the ghostly girl was missing. Her nightmares had also disappeared, and for the first time in many, many years, she was starting to get a full nights sleep. The picture that Ib had left her hung on her wall, a reminder to try and be happy, and to do good in her life.

Which brought her to the subject of Garry.

It had been almost a month since that day, and she hadn't seen him not even once. She walked all over in the city some days, looking for the tall man with purple hair. Honestly, it shouldn't have been that hard – he was the only man she knew that even had that hair color! It was quite distinct in a crowd! Despite all the troubles though, she continued to visit the city whenever she wasn't busy with school work or with her parents in an attempt to find him.

It was during one of these visits late into the evening, that she finally spotted the man she was looking for.

She saw him leaning against a building, again with a bottle of some liquor in his hand, and she noticed people walking by without giving a single glance to him, a few people even made a face of disgust as they passed by him. His coat was absolutely filthy looking, and from what she could see, he was looking down at the ground, his eyes distant, and it looked as though he hadn't shaved in weeks.

She hesitantly walked forward, her heart beating more and more in fear. The last time she confronted him she had yelled at him, calling him worthless and so many other things in an attempt to make him hurt her. She almost turned away, but she steeled her resolve – this was for Ib!

"Garry?" She asked, coming forward, kneeling down beside the man. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she almost gagged.

He looked up when his name was called, his eyes were unfocused, "Hello?" He asked, his eyes lazily glancing vaguely in her direction.

Mary frowned, realizing that he was absolutely wasted, "Are you ok?"

"I'm fines..." He slurred, looking down at his discarded bottle, and giving a few shakes. Noticing that it was nearly empty, he let out a grunt, and closed his eyes again.

She looked around, and seeing that the crowd of people were giving her questioning looks, she decided that they had to get out of there. She reached forward and grabbed his hand, and gently pulled on it, "Come on, get up, you need to go home and rest."

"I don't need help..." He grumbled, but he did as she asked, and stood up, swaying from side to side. Mary made sure to get to one side of him to support him. He glanced down at her, his eyes focusing on her, "Thanks."

"No problem," She allowed a small smile on her face - this might work out better than she thought after all. Shaking that thought aside for now, she decided to ask, "Where do you live?"

Garry looked to the left and right, his head drooping every now and then, "Iunno." He mumbled, "Somewhere 'round ere."

Mary let out an annoyed sigh, and shook her head humorlessly, "Maybe if we just start walking you'll remember?" She suggested to him.

He nodded, "Ok."

With that stated, she assisted him down the sidewalk to the end of the road, and just took a random direction, figuring that since Garry was drunk here, his home ought to be fairly close. However, she was acutely aware that the daylight was quickly fading, and she was noticing people staring at the two of them, so she tried to rush, despite the fact that the heavily intoxicated Garry was slowing them down quite a bit. She would walk down one street, ask if it was it, and he'd shake his head, and so on and so on.

"How about here?" She asked as the street lights were starting to turn on.

"Yeah," He said, "This looks rights."

Mary helped the taller man towards an apartment, and when they reached the door, Garry unsteadily reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, and tried to place it in the keyhole, but continually failed over and over.

"Here," Mary took the key from him and opened the door, helping him inside.

This time she did actually gag. The stench was absolutely horrendous. The smell of alcohol was so strong she wanted to run out and take a big breath of fresh air, but she stood her ground after the initial shock wore off, and tried to adjust to it. All around the apartment were littered bottles of alcohol, and cans that had been carelessly tossed about.

"Bathroom," He mumbled, leaving her hold and stumbling towards an opened door. Mary heard him throwing up then, but she polite stayed put, not wanting to upset him by going in after him.

"Are you feeling better?" She asked as he came out.

"Little." He groaned.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." She took hold on his arm.

He nodded, "Ok."

The two entered his room, and Mary very politely refused to allow her gaze to wander around his room, and just escorted him over to his bed, and helped him lie down, where he fell like a brick, landing into the bed with a soft sigh. He blinked a few more times, and she could see that he was beginning to regain some clarity, since his eyes were more focused.

"Is that good?" She asked, as he looked up at her, his gaze lingering as a frown slowly formed on his face.

His eyes suddenly focused on her, and he whispered, "Mary?"

She was quiet, but finally answered, "Yes."

His gaze quickly turned into a glare, "Get out." He demanded immediately.

"Ok," She said, "Just allow me to get you covered."

"Out!" He yelled.

Mary bit her bottom lip, this had started out so well too, but understandably he didn't know who she was when she first started helping. Despite his protests, she did cover him up, and then she left the building, being sure to lock the door and close it behind her.

Well, she knew where he was, she just didn't really know how to help him.

XxXxXxX

The next day after school, Mary packed up her assignments and walked out the gates, fully intending on going to Garry's house. A part of her dearly hoped that he was gone, that she wouldn't have to deal with him. However, a much larger part of her wanted to help him, especially since she knew he was suffering just as badly as she was from Ib's death. Steeling her resolve, she went towards the apartments, and walked right up to Garry's door.

She bit her bottom lip, a habit she was beginning to develop for when she was nervous. She lifted her arm, and after hesitating a second or two, she knocked.

She waited for several seconds, considering the possibility of bolting down the street and not dealing with Garry. While she understood his hatred of her, and she did want to make amends, she would have to undoubtedly deal with his cold nature, and the chances of him even giving her the time of day was not very likely. It was when she was wondering whether he was even home or not that the door finally opened.

"Hello." She waved, looking down as she did so.

"So it was you last night," He sighed, "What do you want?"

"C – can we talk?"

He was quiet as he looked her over, and sighed, "Since you brought me home last night..." He opened his door wider, allowing her to enter.

"Thank you." She said sincerely, stepping in and fortunately was able to prevent herself from gagging this time on the smell.

"Sorry for the mess." He said, though he really didn't seem that sorry.

"It's fine," Mary said, "I understand that you've been through a lot."

He laughed, "Is that so?"

"Yes." She nodded, still not daring to look him in the eye.

He shook his head and walked into his kitchen, opening up a cabinet, "I think I have some tea in here, do you want any?"

"If it's not a bother," She answered.

"It's not."

She sat down at the table he had, and didn't say another word, she just stared down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs around for a bit. She nearly jumped when a cup was placed in front of her.

"Thank you."

He grunted in reply, and sat on the opposite side of the table.

Mary picked up the cup, and noticed her hand was shaking as she did so, but she forced herself to drink anyway. Setting the cup back down, she looked over at him, "I – I wanted to apologize."

"That's a first."

Mary tried not to react at the remark, but she still flinched, "I know you're m – mad at me..."

Garry frowned, glancing up at her, and she made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. She saw how lifeless and dull they were. She quickly averted her gaze, feeling her own eyes getting misty with tears – she had ruined his life... S – She was a monster... She shook her head, it wasn't time to travel down that well worn road, she came to make amends.

"Mad it putting it lightly." He said.

"I – I know." Her voice cracked, "What I did was horrible, and I can never take it back, but... I want to try and make things better."

"I don't see how that is possible."

Mary bit her bottom lip again, "I – I know..."

"So you're here to do what, exactly?"

"I saw Ib," She said, "She said that she wanted you to be happy."

At the mention of Ib, he looked down, "Don't say that name."

"B – but..."

"Just don't!" He said loudly, glaring up at her now, "Say your piece and leave."

Mary shook harder, why was it so hard for her to get this out? "I – I'm so sorry." She said, it felt like she had been saying that very often lately, but it was true. "I k – killed her, and I regret it so much..."

"Good."

That did it, she covered her eyes with her hands, crying louder, "I'm sorry! What can I do to get you to forgive me? I – I need to make things better, but I don't know how!"

"You can't." He said, "When I held her in my arms..." He looked down so his dirty hair covered his eyes, and he began to shake, "It's my fault... She's dead because of me..."

Mary looked up in surprise, forgetting about her tears for a moment. Garry had practically said word-for-word what she had told herself for years.

"It's not your fault." Mary said, "Ib told me that she-"

"Out!" He shouted, "I don't care what your delusions told you!"

"What?"

He glared at her, tears falling from his own eyes now, "You think that by making me happy that everything will suddenly be better? Do you seriously believe that will let you repent for what you've done?" He growled, "Get out!"

Mary immediately stood, nearly knocking her chair down, "Garry, please..."

"Just go!"

She collapsed to the floor, bowing to him, "Please, forgive me! I will do anything to make you forgive me!"

"OUT!" He screamed as loud as he could, causing Mary to yet again jump, and she looked up at the man, her bottom lip trembled as he glared at her, his lifeless eyes boring into her, "I don't want to talk with you ever again."

Mary shakily got to her feet, "Good bye..." She mumbled, turning around and walking out the door. She closed it behind her, and only looked down at the cement as she walked to her own home. It was quite a distance away, especially since she wasn't using the bus, but she wanted to think. Maybe this was pointless, trying to redeem herself. Maybe Garry was right, and she was just seeing a illusion of Ib, in an attempt to make herself feel better.

Her right arm unconsciously rubbed at the multiple scars along her left wrist and arm. Maybe... Maybe she should just do what she initially wanted to do a month ago.

She made it home, and walked directly into her room, and pulled the knife out from under her bed, and pulled her sleeve back, and used her bed as a makeshift table.

It had been a while since she even looked at the scars, and she rubbed them, "Maybe I should just end it all now. It would be easy for me to do it." She slowly rose the knife, again closing her eyes and looking away, she gritted her teeth and felt her tears freely fall. She slammed the knife down.

She didn't feel pain.

She opened her eyes, and looked down at her arm, and noticed that the knife had pierced the mattress to the left of her wrist where she intended to stab. She looked up and around the room to see if Ib was there and had stopped her again. No one was there however, and her gaze turned back to the knife. She had averted its course through her own will – she didn't want to die. She frowned, and pulled the knife out of the mattress, and walked over to her waste basket, dropping it in there.

Killing herself wouldn't solve anything, it was the coward's way out. Garry would still be unhappy, and Ib's parents – her parents – would be especially unhappy with their daughter gone. She knew the pain of loss all too well, and didn't want to inflict it on anyone else.

Ib didn't say this would be easy.

"I – I'll try again tomorrow." She decided, lowering her sleeve back down her arm and wiping her eyes, "I'll help Garry, whether he wants me to or not."