It's not gonna get better. Just like everything else.

Angela knew she couldn't always count on a book to keep her mind occupied, but normally it wasn't this bad. She couldn't fault the author for failing to see that his description of a happy family would only make her reflect on the misery of her own childhood, but it always came up. Even worse were the musings on the strong, masculine father, no doubt to show the sort of man that would be created for kingship, but always making Angela struggle to dredge through the text to something that wouldn't bring up the imagery already in her mind.

And now it brought up a new fear. She had hardly taken it seriously before - she didn't even believe it could be true as they spoke last night - but as she lay in bed, staring at the alarm clock that would come to life in the middle of some old rock song in just under twenty minutes, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly James had wanted from her.

'I hope I'll get to be there with you.' She felt so confused when James said it that night. She didn't want to think it meant that, but as she struggled to get some sleep it was the only option she could think of.

I just wanted a friend, and I believed you when you said it. You couldn't have meant it like that, could you?

Angela set the book back by the lamp at her bedside. She could remember as soon as she was on the bus back home she was angry beyond words. It was almost unbelievable; James must have never even wanted to help her in the first place, and now it seemed the time was right for him to make his first move.

And at the end of the day, all she wanted was to forget it all and get some sleep. It took her most of Czar Nicholas' handling of the First World War before she was even tired, and then a car alarm cut her rest short.

All the same Angela wanted to usher in the new day on a positive note: if she couldn't get James out of her head she could at least try to remind herself of all the good he had done for her. What were the odds that she would find someone who would help a complete stranger like that? She should count herself lucky!

But she was not lucky. And as much as she would have liked to believe it was all innocent, she had seen enough in life to know better. Everything seemed to make so much more sense in the context of a man striking it lucky with a woman who couldn't fend for herself. And there didn't seem to be any way out. For a moment she was almost happy imagining the confusion James would face when she stood him up, but then followed the realization James quite likely knew where she lived, and wouldn't take well to being fooled.

You son of a bitch. She looked back to the alarm again, confirming it was far too late to go back to sleep. It doesn't even matter what you want, does it? I was trying to help you, and this is what you did to me.

Oh, I can't do this anymore. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she reached for some clothes.

It didn't matter that she had nothing to do all day. If anything it just let her tell herself making a proper breakfast, more or less, was a good way to pass the time.

Not that she was giving much attention to the egg at the moment; Angela was always worried about salmonella poisoning and never fried one for herself without a solid yolk. Instead, with the heat turned down a little, she was taking another drink of soda, trying to decide if she really could taste the "cherry" flavor.

She leaned over the countertops separating the kitchen and lounge areas of the entry room of her apartment, looking into her room to see, even after she had taken the time to take a shower, there were still no hints of sunlight coming through her window. The room wasn't unbearably stuffy, but it still would have been nice to have a window nearby to open to let in a little of the crisp chill she imagined was still outside. It even crossed her mind, despite all the warning signs it let off, to just open the door and let it hang on the chain to get a little from the unsealed hallway.

She thought she might have heard something as she crossed over to the stove, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what until she turned away at the sound of a door from inside opening.

There was something about the way Jessica was leaning on her bedroom's doorframe, her groggy eyes gazing in her direction, that unsettled Angela. The light blue fake silk bathrobe that looked to be the only thing she was wearing certainly didn't help, neither did the somewhat aroused "mmm" she gave.

She turned back to the egg, trying to focus, with little success, on something other than her roommate. No...Jessica isn't like that. You know her! You're gonna be okay! Jessica's soft footsteps approaching only made it worse, forcing Angela to let go of the frying pan and spatula before her trembling hands created a burning mess.

And then Jessica passed right behind her. By the time she heard the fridge door open all her adrenaline was spent, leaving Angela to struggle to make her heavy breathing a little less noticeable.

When she looked back to her right again, she saw her roommate with a flat plastic package of bacon in hand. "You should've waited for me. Let me tell you - when you have an egg fried up in bacon grease, you will never look back."

See? You can trust her. Jessie's a saint - you're just lucky you know her. As much as it felt like she should at least offer her thanks, she couldn't quite get up the nerve to do anything but move her egg to an unlit back-burner as Jessica retrieved a larger frying pan. Nor did she put up any sort of fight as, instead of immediately opening the package, Jessica picked up Angela's soda can and took a sip.

She almost started coughing up as she put it down. "I swear, Angela, I've gotta buy you some coffee. Anyway, I'm meeting Will and Charlotte at eleven for lunch...I'm guessing you don't wanna go?"

Angela sighed. "I...I already spent a lot of money. I really shouldn't."

She barely heard Jessica's reply, but it sounded like a satisfied "huh." And her roommate did turn her attention back to the stove, leaving Angela looking at some of the things left on the kitchen table to piece together a little of Jessica's previous day.

And she quickly found herself staring at a small, somewhat worn paperback book. As much as she hated to admit it, with its bleeding text title of 'Cursed America' and boasts of 'shocking stories of true hauntings' over a stark black and white photo of and old mansion, it did seem like the sort of thing she expected Jessica might actually read.

Enough judging your best friend. And, as she began setting her long, straight blonde hair into a ponytail, she turned back to Angela.

Angela picked up the book. "Is this...something you're into now Jessie?"

Jessica chuckled. "It's just something I borrowed from the library cause I heard it had a chapter about Silent Hill."

Really? Jessica knew Angela had lived there once, but if she was at all interested in that she kept it to herself. "Oh...were you thinking about going there? I might go with you if you did...I could maybe see if..."

Jessica had much less control over her laughter this time, and when she spoke up her voice seemed a little strained from being out of breath. "You really don't pay attention to the news, do you?"

She promptly flipped a newspaper that had barely gotten any notice from Angela over the past week to its front cover, showing a haggard-looking blonde man, looking completely terrified in a mugshot, billed as 'The Aztec Ripper' with the pictures of his ten suspected victims flanking him. "I heard on the news yesterday he killed himself in jail. It's fucking crazy! And they were talking about him being from some cult round there. I don't know about you, but from what I've seen of what goes on there I'd steer clear of that fucking town."

Angela passed by a few pages to a full spread dedicated to the case, but upon seeing the sub-header of 'Child Killer' it suddenly seemed a little too much to get into at the moment. Instead she turned back to Jessica, now back at the stove, trying to think of something to say.

"Do they know why he did it?"

"It's something about that cult. I wanted to try and figure out more about it myself."

"Oh...did they say how they got him?"

At first, all Angela heard was the sizzling in the frying pan. And then Jessica sighed and turned around. "Okay Angela, what is it you really wanna talk about here?"

To some extent, it came as a relief. She had lost most of a good night's sleep wrestling with the events of the previous day on her own, but all the same she still couldn't quite find the nerve to bring it up.

But Jessica knew her. She had seen the way she would hold in whatever made her miserable, so sure that it would just be a burden to share it with someone else, until she would just break down in tears in a desperate, uncontrollable cry for help. And after all that, somehow you still wanna help me.

Indeed, as Angela remained silent, she continued. "What about that little date of yours yesterday? How did that go?"

Thank you. She didn't question the words, instead pulling out a chair from the table for herself. She would almost certainly need it. "It was...okay at first. I was a little scared, but he was nice to me...and then..."

As she sat down she noticed Jessica wasn't smiling anymore - apparently her hesitation was saying enough. Thank God that she got to this now rather than try to spit it out later. And thank God Jessica is so patient.

At once, almost without a thought, it all came out. "He was hitting on me Jessie."

Angela closed her eyes for a moment, not expecting that when she opened them again, Jessica would still be staring at her with that very same grim expression.

Or that she would offer, in her all-too familiar deadpan, "So what's...wrong with him?"

What? She had expected some sort of apology just out of pity, but this...I'm wrong?

And Jessica's comment of "Oh..." and her sheepish grin were just a little too late to put her at ease again. "Yeah, married, right. Sorry, I'm just being fucking retarded this morning. Are you sure about this, Angela?"

She gave Jessica a nod, but couldn't find it in herself to say anything. Jessica, for her own part, turned back to the stove once she realized nothing else would be forthcoming.

Angela began to lift herself out of the chair just as Jessica glanced back to her again. "Listen, after I'm done with them, I'm gonna come back here, and you and I can just hang out and have fun tonight." A moment later, she added "Don't worry; nobody's gonna be late for work tomorrow."

"Thanks." She made her way over to Jessica's side, watching her flip the rashers frying in the pan until a speck of grease hit her hand.

Angela backed away, but kept staring at Jessica. What did you want to say?

"Jessie...do you think I got it wrong?"

Jessica turned to her roommate, but sighed before speaking. "Angela, if he's making you uncomfortable, I'm not gonna tell you to stick with him, okay?"

"But...you know I'm..." She couldn't get the word out - she knew Jessica would shoot her whole train of thought down before she could finish. Instead, she quickly tapped her finger a few times on the side of her head. "I don't know what to think anymore! Maybe I am wrong...I don't wanna lose James if I am!"

"You just said..." Jessica didn't have to say any more; her subsequent groan and massaging of her forehead got the message across.

I guess, but I can't believe after everything it would end like this. It did make sense in her head, but maybe she didn't want to believe it. Maybe she was just lonely - it could happen to anyone - but when she looked back she couldn't even remember being uncomfortable at their first meeting without feeling silly. Besides, would it really make sense for someone who had acted that selfless to her to try to hurt her?

And even if her worst fears were true..."Jessie, why didn't you think it would be a problem?"

Jessica sighed. "Angela...let me say I don't want you to take this the wrong way. I don't wanna pretend I know what's best for you, but..."

In all the time they'd known each other, Angela only remembered Jessica trying to suggest something like this to her once, and once she told her what happened to her Jessica backed off quickly enough.

"Look, I'm really happy being with Liz; I think it might actually work out between us." Well, at least this time Jessica wasn't thinking she was the one for her. "And if you ever found someone who could do that for you, well, I'd be happy for you."

She reached over with the tongs to pick up another bacon piece from the package, getting right in Angela's face in the process. "Besides, who's gonna look after you when I'm gone?"

She didn't have a answer. Maybe Jessica was just joking, but she had a point; when Angela ran away she didn't have anything. Thank God Jessica found her before anyone else. Maybe it was just that she needed a roommate, and her old high school friend would work out fine, but there was no way she would have been able to get a job or a place to live without her help.

As far as she was concerned, Jessica had saved her life.

And, judging by her face, Jessica realized the prospect of being without her terrified her roommate. "Look, whatever, forget about it. You go watch some TV and I'll finish this."

"I'm sorry James. I just can't bear it being like this. You didn't deserve this any more than I did."

Even though the shock had worn off, James was still speechless. He wanted to tell her that no, she wasn't the one who needed to feel sorry. Not when he was ready to give her her wish and leave her alone again. He knew better, of course, but what else did he have to say?

The decay that seemed to come over Mary's body had three years to creep up on them, but at that moment it all seemed to come back to James at once as he sat by his wife's bedside. Maybe it was the way she almost couldn't even look him in the eye anymore, her eyelids swollen almost to the point of keeping permanently shut. It helped lead him in to see how the disease spread over her entire face, leaving her skin blistered, bruised and almost cracking up.

Is that what it felt like? All those years of your body just dying away inside?

He still had no words. Instead, he began to unwrap the bouquet to place it in the vase on her bedside table. That same one that used to hold the flowers he told here were from all the guys at work.

Mary slightly turned her head to see what he was doing; apparently sitting up when trying to drive him away had spent all her energy. "Thank you." It was barely more than a whisper.

The job done, James sat himself down again, waiting for his wife to tell him of the newest agonies that helped drive her to the state she was in.

"I just...all I ever want to do now is sleep. It's the only thing keeping me from going insane when I'm alone here." The form of her left arm began to emerge from under her thin white blanket, revealing a hand and the sleeve of the cheap pajamas they gave her to die in. "And I don't have to deal with this when I'm asleep."

James hesitated. He wasn't squeamish about the way it almost resembled the hand of an old woman, with thin pale skin giving a clear impression of the bones and veins underneath, but somehow today he had the impression if he touched her he just might break it.

And even when he did hold it between his own hands, he did not expect it would be so cold.

"James...do you think that's what it'll be like when I die? I've never really been completely sure, but God...maybe if you've been good all your life, you just get to rest."

"That...that would be nice, actually."

It got a smile from Mary. It was only for a moment, and with her face it seemed almost sinister, but it was enough to reassure James.

She sighed. "I don't know what they're doing to me anymore anyway. It can't help me now...but maybe one day it'll help someone else."

But..."It would be easier if they'd just kill me..."

It wasn't that Mary never got angry like that, but a few weeks ago if she heard anyone using that sort of self-pitying misery she would never have stood for it.

But things have changed. James had sensed it. For the past few minutes, he had been wrestling with the understanding he had just reached, but only now did he have the words for it.

Mary's gone.