As she was

"You brought him into my life and now I want you to bring him back. Bring him back! I have never asked you for anything. I've never asked you for spells but do this. I know you can bring him back."

-"No dear. We wont do that."

-"We don't do that."

"But you can. You can do this. I know you can. I remember. I found it here when mommy and daddy died."

-"Even if we did bring him back, it wouldn't be Michael. It would be something else. Something dark and unnatural."

"I don't care what he comes back as! As long as he comes back. Please do this for me. PLEASE? PLEASE? PLEASE? PLEASE?"

The phone rang, abruptly interrupting this intense and powerful scene of my favorite movie that I'd been watching, Practical Magic.

"U-um, Bruce?" I answered, feeling a tad uneasy.

"Huh, well, everything's all set…" He sounded exhausted and indignant.

"So, what happened?"

"Oh, Dian, It's a … long and complicated story-"

"So tell it."

"Eh, okay, um, the bill was nearly two grand, considering this was her second offense, or at least, the second time she's been caught, for I assume that she's driven drunk and high many times before … Although she made bail she's due in court this Thursday and I presume that she'll have to go on parole, maybe house arrest or community service… Don't even get me started on her behavior upon seeing me…"

I coughed and remained silent to imply that he was going to tell me of her wily reaction to his appearance. He groaned in reluctance.

"I'd never seen a woman sprint so fast, Dian. Once they opened up her holding cell, she was in my arms in a blinding flash, squealing like a schoolgirl in the process…"

I couldn't hold back laughter. I knew she was still crazy about him. I couldn't wait to hear what he had to say about his reaction to her unseemly hijinks.

"She wouldn't release her grip on me all the way through the parking lot up until we reached the Benz. Then … she started with the kissing, and the obscure pet names ...Brucey baby, Broods, Knight of Dark Satin, Batsy-"

I slipped off the couch and doubled over in laughter. I felt for him. I did. For what he had to go through, but, but that was funny! She was a schoolgirl indeed, and a pathetic one at that.

"He, hm, *Sniff* I'm sorry, carry on."

"...She began stating her, ahem, IOU's...of course, they didn't involve a payment plan of money to perhaps give me to reciprocate for the bailout that I payed for her, but rather-"

"Sex?" I finished.

"Would you like the details?"

"Um, no, no, that's okay, I can kinda figure what she had in mind, anyways, knowing her…"

"I denied her offer, and told her that she was off the hook with payback of, any kind. I said that she was fine. I had to declare one condition however, when she thought that she was coming home with me … she thought that we could be … well, together again, I had to make it clear that rekindling our affair was absolutely out of the question, and damn, did I really have to make myself clear. She was devastated when I dropped her off at her apartment. When I made it final, that we were not to see one another again, and that I was through with incorporating myself into her reprobated lifestyle. Though I must say that I did feel remorseful when she left, her final expression having signified a major sense of defeat. I know that feeling. It's debilitating."

"Bruce, you did the right thing."

"Did I? The last time I gave her some dissatisfying news she attempted suicide."

"She needs to learn how to fend for herself, and without resolving to self-harm whenever something doesn't go her way."

"I'm not certain that she can help herself, Dian. The woman is … a mess."

She was indeed. Her mind was of high unkemptness and clutter. She needed a savior. That's really what she required.

"Yes, that's why I'm going to help her." I'd startled Bruce, unshockingly. I'd went from wanting to completely expel her from my life to making plans to get deep into hers in order for her to seek safe haven and peace of mind. It was going to be a LONG road, though. Quite the distance.

"What? Dian, are you sure you want to-"

"I'm going to help her. Yes, I will. She needs a mentor, a guide. She's lost, and I'm going to be her source of light. I think in the end my efforts will prove worthwhile."

"How are you going to help her? She's unstable, Dian, and I doubt that she even knows how to understand herself."

"I know, but I'll figure something out, Bruce. I will. Just wait."

Silence followed along with a few sighs implying the phrase "if you say so."

"Huh, right then, I have to go to a conference at the Enterprises, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, have fun."

"Pfft, watching paint dry on a wall is more entertaining that these things...well, goodbye."

I knew what I had to do now. I had to get to Selina's place, before she'd do anything drastic, if she hadn't already.

Did my stomach plummet in distaste once I'd heard that she was staying in an apartment in the Narrows. I'd made a personal vow never to return to that harrowing town upon departure, but now I had to go back there.

I supposed that Selina and that town's culture varied little. They were one in a kind; alike in the sense of personality, both wicked at heart and reckless in demeanor. Selina was not afraid of ghettos or ganglands, she merely lived for them. She fit in, and became a part of the usual crowd, far unlike myself.

She'd told me that she was staying at the Oker Inn via phone the previous day before her apparent arrest. It was 4:38 in the afternoon, so I could presume that the Narrows' city danger meter wasn't too far off the charts.

I left my apartment with both a fresh pistol that Bruce had considerately given me and a full tin of mace. So if I did run into trouble then at least I'd be adequately prepared.

I got to her place fifteen minutes later. The parking lot was much fuller than the lots I'd been on the previous night, probably because it was still daytime, hence lack of gang activity.

I sighed and prepared myself for the strenuous situation to come. I silently prayed that she wouldn't be unconscious or dead on the floor with a pool of blood surrounding her wrists. It was a gruesome yet realistic vision.

I stepped out and headed inside, my heart palpitating at the tenseness I was enduring. The inside appeared to be not too shabby, just a few tears in the old satin curtains by the entryway and audible creaks in a few of the chairs some of the residents were seated in.

I walked up to the receptionist and asked for my troubled friend's room number. She was middle-aged, strands of gray evident all around her tightly bunned hair and wrinkles furrowed intensely on her forehead, stress also having been evident.

"Third floor, room 214," she monotonously grumbled. I silently thanked her and headed for the elevator … that was out of order, of course.

I went for the stairs, having passed just a few people on the way up, all having appeared to be poverty stricken with the holes in their clothes and the unkempt hair. I scolded my too keen judgment.

I warily approached her room, briefly neglecting to knock, and maybe just leave while I had the chance. No. I had to do this. She deserved a second chance. I could help her make amends. I could assist in teaching, well, right from wrong, I guessed. Since apparently she didn't know the difference in the first place, either that or she just chose to do the things she did merely because it was her prerogative. Her true intention. Her ambition.

I knocked twice.

No answer.

I knocked again, this time with more curtness and force. "Selina?" I called.

I pressed my ear against the door, and heard acute sniffling seconds later. I tried the doorknob, with no avail. I knocked again, now louder and more agile.

"Selina, let me in," I hollered, knowing she was moping just feet from the door.

"Go away!" she retorted.

"Just let me inside, Selina. I can help you."

"No, just get the hell outta here! NOW!"

"I'm not leaving. I'm here to help you. If I leave now it's only a matter of time before your hands will be in cuffs again, and Bruce will not help you the next time-"

I heard curt stomping and the door was suddenly swung open. Of course, I'd mentioned Bruce. She lusted over the man.

"Get in here, then," she screeched through bared teeth. I stepped into the room composed of used tissues and clothes spread carelessly all around, including a few pairs of inside-out thongs.

She was smoking at the time, a lit cigarette was perched between her shaking lips. Her mascara was running down her cheek from the flow of fresh tears. God, what the hell did Bruce say to her?

She was wearing not much more than a thin bathrobe, well actually, no more than that. She had far too much cleavage out to have been even wearing a bra. A few loose strands of her dark curls hung in tendrils around her forehead from her loose bun. The red nail polish on her revealed toes was chipping away, and she looked sickly.

She stormed past me and threw herself onto the couch, her small figure bouncing lightly in response. She continued to whimper, her lit smoke still held between two fingers.

"Tell that prick to fuck off for me, will ya?" she asked, her face pressed down into the seat of her tan couch.

She clearly didn't quite comprehend what she had just said, at least, I'd hoped that was the case.

"What?! Selina, he just broke you out of jail! He's paying for everything, you ingrate! You should be thankful! If anything, you need to thank the man!"

"I tried to! He just shoved me away and told me to stay out of his precious life!"

I scoffed. "Um, well yeah, Selina, you can't just offer the guy a blowjob then call it even. Frankly, he's just as tired of your ridiculousness as I am."

She sprung upwards in a fit of infuriation. "Then get out. I don't want you in my life if you're just gonna judge me, and not accept the things I do."

"I'm here to save you! You have to stop acting like a careless mouth breather and get your priorities in line!"

She stood up and strided my way. "My pri-or-ities are in line! This is me, Dian! Get used to it!"

"God, Selina, is this really what you want?"

She didn't reply right away. She frowned and drew her hazel eyes to the ceiling. "...Well…"

"To be a stripper? Is that, or has that been your ideal career all along? Or what about the prostitution? Huh? What about that?"

"Stop it."

"No, you need to stop. You need to put an immediate cessation to all of this. If you don't, then you're going to be six-feet under in a matter of time. A short amount, actually."

"FUCK YOU!"

"That, that right there. We'll start with the obvious animosity. Just take a deep breath and-"

"I don't need a goddamn therapist. I can handle myself."

A therapist. Maybe that's what she needed. Wait, then again I doubted that she'd've been able to afford one. I'd have to do, for then.

"Maybe not, but don't you need … a friend?"

I'd gotten her. I made her realize what she really did need. Bruce would have nothing of her, and neither would anyone else.

She let go of her dying cigarette and carelessly crushed it into the floor with her bare right foot.

"...Bitch."

She plopped back down into her sofa and crossed her legs, while I stared at the small pile of ash that was crushed into her white carpet in befuddlement.

She sloppily patted the seat aside her, initiating an invite to sit beside her. I slowly made my way to her couch and warily sat down. Its comfort proved promising, but her next statement didn't so much.

"It's quite the picture. You and I, bff's again, just like the old days. No betrayal. No traiting. No hurt. No pain. Just fun and never ending nonchalance. Yup, sounds like fun. I want that … Hey, I have an idea. This weekend, I want you to come with me to, the mall. Yeah, Macy's. We'll have fun."

"Em…"

"C'mon! I thought you wanted to help me … be normal. And that is normal."

"Well, fine, alright then."

"Kay. It's a date." She picked up the box of Marlboros' and lit up a fresh one, to my discouragement.

"Why don't you start by putting a halt to your smoking."

She scowled. "Pfft. Please, honey. I need these."

Whatever floated her wrecked boat, I guess.

"So, did you get that job at um,"

"Carnal? Yup. I work Mondays, Wednesdays and the weekends. It's kinda fun, actually."

"Oh, okay… so, what do you do in there?" I probably could've guessed myself.

"Just what you'd think. I strip. I tease. I give lap dances, and occasionally I-"

"OKAY!" I had to break in. I knew what was coming. I didn't want to hear it. The respect I did have for her was limited enough as it was.

She chuckled and inhaled her cigarette. "It's worth it all. Make fifteen an hour, plus the cash that the horny bastards shove down my thongs and top. So, before you ask, no, I don't regret it."

I didn't think she did.

This was going to be more difficult than I'd thought.