Well, I hope this fulfills some of your wishes on the flashbacks. I hope this chapter is just as worthy of your comments as the others were. Thanks so much for the continued support! You have no idea of how it's such a positive impact on me. Please continue to review/criticize/judge, I look forward to all of your thoughts.

Chapter Ten.

When Adam returned from his man-cave-turned-comic-shrine, now dressed in mother-appropriate khakis and a crisp polo, Clare told him to "man the steak" for a few minutes while she went upstairs to don on her own outfit for the night.

Clare put a lot of thought into the charade she had established for her mother. It wasn't just some easy task to complete, it was more of an organized battle strategy in order to keep her mother from prying into her life.

Four months after her suicide fail, Clare found herself at her old home from high school living with her mother. She knew that the reason for her doctor recommending that she return back to her roots was so Clare could find balance in her life. But all she really found was another reminder of broken relationships.

There were no family photos on the walls because every photo contained her father in it. Her mother was always the one snapping away, while her father always jumped in with her and Darcy to do whatever pose her mother was instructing them to do.

That all changed during Clare's senior year of high school when her father finally stopped jumping in and instead jumped out. Leaving Clare, Darcy, and her mother, Helen, stuck in the painful moment of having lost their fourth member.

Clare busied herself in manuscripts that her office still faxed over. Reading was her only real escape from the memories that fade but never leave. She did more and more of it lately, unable to stand the constant companionship of her mother who insisted on reflecting the movements of a helicopter as she hovered over Clare 24/7. There were no closed doors, no closed shower curtains, and whatever else Clare's mother could think of.

Clare understood her mother's rational. But Clare hadn't gotten a private moment to just breathe. And if you don't have the power to just breathe alone, what power do you have, if any?

Clare took a deep breath as she silently undressed. She pulled a yellow floral dress on, and tying a red belt around her waist, Clare made her way downstairs as she silently closed the door to their bedroom.

Clare wanted control in her life once more. She couldn't gain it back if someone else was still making all of the decisions for her. And so when Adam came over for dinner, she took that step. The occasion was to celebrate Clare's continuation of living half-a-year after The Incident. It was her mothers idea, of course. Only she could find some reason to make a fancy dinner out of a morose event.

It was when Adam was chomping down on a slice of chocolate cake and her mother had gone to make coffee that Clare made her proposition. Clearing her throat, she glanced a look over at Adam before she resumed teasing her fork against her uneaten cake slice. 'Adam, you know how you said you owed me one? Since I took care of you after your surgery about a year-and-a-half ago?'

Adam stopped chewing and hesitantly put his fork down on the porcelain plate. 'Yeah,' he said. A hand moving up to his mouth to keep the chocolate cake bits from spitting out of his mouth as he finished chewing quickly. With one big gulp he continued, 'How could I have forgotten?'

Clare gave him a shy smile as she began the rehearsed speech she had been practicing all day in her mind, 'I really want to move out. You know how watchful my mother is and I just need some space. But that's kind of difficult to have happen because of my…situation.'

Clare caught Adam's eyes glance down at Clare's nervous fingers as she continued on quickly, 'You know the only way I could ever convince her or Dr. Yeardley is if I can find another person to live with who wouldn't mind acting as a guardian in a way…' Clare became flustered. She had been hoping Adam would've just said yes by now. 'In a way to make sure that I never do this again. And you're one of my best friends and no offense to Alli, but I'd prefer staying with someone who doesn't constantly chatter. And I was thinking that we could rent an apartment somewhere, wherever you wanted to, and I could have my own room with a door that closed. I could make it work for you as long as you just tell me what you want and I-'

'Clare,' he slowly interjected. 'I'll do it. But you have to promise me, if you ever repeat the events of that night again, you go back to living with your mom or to that hospital. I can't do that again, Clare…' The words fell in the air slowly as Clare began to understood what Adam was asking her to do.

She nodded her head slowly, 'Right. I promise.'

Clare entered the kitchen and relieved Adam of his duty as meat-watcher. Pulling the meat off of its cooker, Clare placed each piece on its own plate gently. Checking the clock on the microwave, it was nearly eight o'clock. A little late for dinner, but it was the time Clare's mother had told her she'd be there expecting a fabulous meal with her daughter and son-in-law.

Clare bit the inside of her cheek hoping the meat wouldn't get cold too soon. For the third time that day, Clare began fixing the silverware to make sure it was at the perfect angle and neatly polished. She stopped once she got to her own place setting. After tracing a finger around the spoon's contours, Clare brought it up to the light to inspect for whatever smudging she might have left on it.

All she saw was her reflection.

Clare had woken up after her crying fit (how long had it been exactly since he left her?). She didn't want to think about the details. She sat up in bed and looked around the room, her eyes hazy from all the tears. It was dark out and there wasn't much illumination of the moon reaching the room, so Clare reached a shaky finger out to where the light switch was and flipped it on.

The first thing Clare noticed was that there was no Adam. The man who had insisted on being with her at her apartment these past twenty-four hours as she continually cried had finally gotten up and left her. The next thing she noticed was the bathroom door open and that gave Clare an idea.

She whipped off the covers and brought her feet to the ground. It took her a minute to become comfortable to the cold floor as an icy shiver traveled through her. She brought a hand against her forehead as she attempted to straighten out her thoughts. But it was all the same. He. Left. You.

She made her way to the bathroom, her legs shaking at the prospect of what she was about to do. After turning on the light, she pulled open the cabinet above the sink and looked at its contents.

The first one that stuck out was her razor. That was a given and solid attempt. But then Clare thought of Darcy and how she had looked afterwards. More importantly she thought of how Darcy had failed. Clare wasn't one for failure, even in death.

The next few objects were medications that Clare had left over from Adam's surgery a little over a year ago. She knew it was stupid to have kept them, but it was one of those just-in-case things if Adam ever needed them.

Well, now she did.

She grabbed the pill bottle and traced the jagged grooves of the white plastic lid. She glanced out of the bathroom and saw that the door to her room was still closed. Still, Clare felt the need for more privacy for something that was so…

Private.

Clare grabbed the door handle and hastily, silently shut the door. Turning her attention back to the object in hand, she undid the lid. Dropping it into the bathroom sink, she stole a glance at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked like hell. And she felt like it too.

The bell rang. It broke Clare's thoughts and her body shook in surprise. The spoon clattered to the floor as Adam called out, "I'll get it!" Clare reached down to grab the silver object. Her fingers gently touched the cold tile and she closed her eyes attempting to will herself to not remember.

Clare turned off the lights so she wouldn't have to look at herself any longer. He must not love you. He. Left. You. Clare grabbed the glass she kept nearby the sink and filled it with water. Setting it beside her, she grabbed a few pills from the bottle and threw them into the back of her mouth. Quickly she reached for the water and took a sip, wiling herself to swallow all of the contents in her mouth.

She took a breath. She still felt like shit.

She spilled out a few more pills into her palm as she shook them from the bottle. Violently she dropped them into the back of her mouth as she grabbed her water glass. Taking another sip, she forced herself to swallow once more.

She could still feel.

She grasped the yellow prescription bottle into her right hand. She brought it up to her lips as the very last of the pills slipped past and dropped to the back of her throat. Clare grabbed the glass and tilt her head back, urging all of the white splendors to reach their destination. She took a long sip and swallowed. And swallowed once more to make them all go down.

Her throat was dry and hurt.

He. Left. You.

And that was all Clare could recall.