Hello everyone! It has been a hot minute since I've written anything, even longer since I've posted. If you are lucky enough to be one of the saddened few who knew my previous story, "Be Home by Midnight," then I apologize. It's been four years since I started that story and never continued it past chapter 7. For those of you who never saw that story, hello! I am excited to be writing again and even more excited that I'm revamping the story I tried to write four years ago. It's been an age since I've written, though, so please bear with me if these first few chapters aren't the greatest.

One of the biggest complaints I had gotten on my previous story was the amount of cursing. You see, the person that I was four years ago apparently thought that cursing made my character tough. I now know that is not true, as evidenced by all of my students (I'm an 8th grade English teacher) who think that swearing makes them cool. This story is rated T, but I will warn you that some chapters may have more of an M feel, particularly chapters 4 through like 6 or 7. Not super M, but just be warned that this story is mainly a T rating but with the occasional M vibe and I will be greatly reducing the number of times my character swears. It'll still happen sometimes, we all swear occasionally, but it won't be as often.

I will be trying to update this as often as possible. As I mentioned above, I do teach and teaching is very life-consuming. I don't always get to leave my work at work, which means I don't have as much time to write as I would love to have. But I am hoping to update every week, at least every 2 weeks minimum. I'll try to keep my profile page updated with chapter and upload date progress. With all of that said, enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Girl I Was Before

~"It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live"~

Marcus Aurelius

It was late. Later than I'd realized and definitely later than I'd meant to be. I glanced at the clock in my car, the old 2007 Hyundai Santa Fe I had inherited from Mom that had definitely seen better days, and slowly released a sigh. It was almost midnight. My shift at the old folk's home, where I worked the front desk, was supposed to have ended at 10 PM. Instead, I got the lucky privilege of waiting around for two hours waiting for the next shift to show. I called it being "voluntold." My boss asked me if I would mind waiting for Karen to show up, but really she was telling me I was going to stay. Of course, my boss was able to go home. Working at an assisted living facility, someone had to be at the front desk 24/7. You know, in case the old people woke up in the middle of the night and tried to make a run for freedom.

I shouldn't complain. It pushed me into overtime, and I could use the extra money if I wanted to move out in time for college to start. I needed to move out in time for college to start. I didn't want to live at home anymore.

With that, I thought of my house. Not a home, just a house that I returned to every day. I was only two streets away from turning onto mine. I couldn't help but hope that my father's car wasn't in the driveway. It had been a long shift. We had gotten a new resident who didn't want to live there and kept trying to leave the building, but was also on the "flight risk" list of residents not allowed to go outside without a chaperone. Days like this, having to constantly explain to a poor old lady that she can't get some fresh air, were long.

There was only so much I could handle in one day. I didn't think I could deal with Dad tonight, deal with the urn full of Mom's ashes on the fireplace mantle, the smell of alcohol that poured out of Dad like beer from a tap. I just… couldn't deal. Not tonight.

I frowned when I saw his car parked in the driveway. But I could still be lucky. It didn't happen often, but maybe this once I would be. Maybe I'll walk into the house and hear nothing but quiet tonight. Maybe I won't hear the sound of a vodka bottle rolling across the hardwood floor. Dad often went out with his friend Sal on Friday nights. He could have gotten picked up and could still be out.

I parked my car on the street in front of the house and climbed out, grabbing my small backpack off the passenger seat before I closed the door behind me. I clicked the fob once, enough to lock the doors but not enough to beep the alarm. Not surprisingly, he had forgotten to turn the porch light on again. Thanks for thinking of me, Dad. He always claimed he forgot, but I had my doubts that he didn't do it on purpose. I climbed the porch stairs, unlocked the knob, and opened the front door.

Please don't be home.

Turns out that I wasn't so lucky, after all. I could hear the television running and the sound of his snores from the entryway. At least he was asleep. Hopefully, he would stay that way. As quietly as I could, I closed the front door behind me and locked it back up. I had to pass by the living room to get to the kitchen. I peeked into the living room as I walked silently down the hallway. As usual, he was passed out in the reclining chair. A glass of something brown sat on the end table next to him. From the open bottle on the coffee table, I assumed it was scotch. I rolled my eyes. He only drank scotch when he was annoyed about something. He drank vodka when he was happy and whiskey when he was sad. How sad was it that I could tell his moods by the liquor he drank? I would have to hear about something I supposedly did wrong if he woke up, so I moved into the kitchen, trying not to make a peep.

My aim was to go to bed. I grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge so that I wouldn't have to come back down in the middle of the night if I was thirsty and risk running into him. Times like this I was grateful that we lived in a ranch. No creaky stairs to have to walk up. Other times, like when he was in a rage, it wasn't so nice living in a ranch.

I was halfway down the hall to my room when I stopped hearing his snores. I tensed, preparing myself. Here it came.

"Paige," came the gruff voice of my father. The recliner creaked as it locked back into its sitting position. "That you?

I took a deep breath before responding. "Yeah, Dad, I'm here."

He cursed as he got up from the chair, looking around to figure out where I was. When he finally found me, he stared hard, focusing. "What… time is it?" He was past the point of speaking normally, but not so drunk that he was slurring his words. I called it his Level Three Drunk. Level One was what I referred to as a typical person's drunk and Level Two was when he started getting loud. Level Three was where he started losing the ability to think and speak at the same time.

"It's midnight, Dad," I said, keeping my voice flat. Between the fact that he was at a Level Three and the fact that he was drinking scotch, I couldn't show any frustration with him. "The person after me didn't show and my boss made me stay and wait for them."

"You think… You think I care?" He barked as he started to stumble towards me, holding onto the wall for support. I took a step backward instinctively. He didn't seem to notice. "You tell your boss… That you have to come home. Who the hell's going to…" He paused, losing his train of thought. Typical. "Who the hell is going to make me dinner? What am I supposed to eat, Paige?" As his voice got louder, he seemed to regain some of his ability to form sentences. "Do you expect me to cook? Do you?"

I'm pretty sure you already had a liquid dinner, Dad, but sure. Let's pretend like I'm the only one who can feed you. "Sorry, Dad, I'll try to get out earlier next time." It pained me to apologize, to act like I cared about his stupid dinner, but that was the only way to get through this quickly and move on with my life. "Do you want me to heat you something up?"

He grunted, narrowing his eyes at me like he knew I wasn't being genuine. He must not have cared enough to push it as he nodded, turning back towards the recliner and stumbling back through the living room. "Make it quick, kid."

I shook my head at him behind his back and marched back into the kitchen. We had some leftover meatloaf from the other night, that I had been required to make of course, so I threw some on a plate and warmed it up in the microwave. Since I knew he would complain if I didn't include it, I added some ketchup to the side of the plate when it was done. I swear, if the alcohol didn't kill him first it would be his inability to eat without smothering it in some kind of sauce or dressing. He waved his hand at me as I dropped the plate off on the end table next to him, barely acknowledging my existence.

Relatively painless as far as my interactions with my father went. I quickly made it back into the hallway and through the door to my bedroom, locking it behind me. Thankfully, my locking knob was one of the decisions Mom had made, one of the last decisions she had made, and because of that my father had never made a deal out of the fact that I could lock him out of my room.

The second I was safe behind my door I moved to my bed, reaching under it to pull out the duffel bag hiding there. I just couldn't do it tonight. As much as that had been a semi-normal interaction for us, it didn't change the fact that it was painful for me. It didn't change the fact that my heart hurt to have him treat me like this. No amount of willpower was going to make that go away. And this month… I just couldn't. I had to get out of there.

I began throwing some clothes and the things I would need to stay overnight in the bag as I pulled out my phone. I clicked on Lexa's name and typed out a quick text message. I'm coming over. Have to get out of here. I didn't wait for a reply before I finished packing the bag. The last thing I made sure to do was to shut the bedroom light off. Hopefully, Dad would think I had just gone to bed.

The pass through the bedroom window and onto the grass outside my window was an easy one I had made dozens of times before. My duffel got chucked in the backseat of the car and I closed my car doors as quietly as I could, making every attempt to keep him from noticing I was leaving. Maybe he would think that the car starting was the neighbors. The neighbors had teenage sons who liked to go out at all hours so it wasn't that far of a stretch.

As I pulled away from the house, I glanced back and felt my shoulders sag. I couldn't see his face but his silhouette was there in the living room window, looking out at me. There was no sense in being sneaky now. I turned on the headlights and pulled away. I would be in for it when I got home.

No, not home. That wasn't the right word. Not anymore.

It hadn't been home since Mom died.

I had been driving for all of five minutes when my phone rang. "You okay, Paige?" Lexa's voice came through clear and concerned over the Bluetooth system. "Are you safe?"

What would I have done without her? I swear she kept me sane. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was an average conversation. 'Why are you home so late?' 'How am I supposed to feed myself?' As if he didn't use to cook when Mom was alive."

"Sorry, boo, I know May is a hard month for you."

"Yeah…" I tried not to think about it. What used to be my favorite month as a kid had turned into just another thing to survive. "I should be there in about twenty. I've got my laptop with me. Do you want to look over some chapters for me?"

"Love to." I could practically hear her grin through the phone. "How far did you get? Are you at Ten yet?"

We were referring to the story I had been working on. It was a fanfiction set in the "Doctor Who" universe, a show we were both big nerds for. Writing was one of the only things that could take my mind off everything that was wrong with my life. It let me pretend I was someone else for a little bit. "Not yet, though I have managed to write up the first few episodes of season one. I just finished inserting her into the episodes with the Slitheen."

"Oh, I can't wait to read them. You're writing is always so good. What's your character like again?"

I was opening my mouth to answer her when I noticed something strange. My car was slowing down. "You have got to be freaking kidding me." The lights inside the car started to dim and I could hear a sputtering from the front end. Unbelievable, my car was stalling out. This night couldn't have gotten more perfect. "Lexa? Can you hear me?" No response. I tried stepping on the brakes as the car began rolling through a stop sign but it didn't seem to do anything. Weird. By now, all the lights had disappeared completely and it was coming to a standstill in the middle of an intersection. Grabbing my phone, it looked like it was still connected to her. It was probably trying to play her through the speaker. Why did nothing ever work for me the way it was supposed to? "Lexa?" I said as I turned off the Bluetooth option and put the phone to my ear.

"I'm here. Are you okay?" She sounded concerned.

"Yeah, my car stalled in the middle of the road." I grabbed my keys in the ignition and turned. The only response it gave me was a disappointing click. Not that I'd expected much else after it had died like that. "Looks like it's dead. Just my luck."

"I'm coming to get you."

Ah, my Lexa. Always there in a pinch. "No, stay home. I'm going to have to call the tow truck and deal with this first. No sense in you being out all night, too. Besides, I'm only a few blocks away. I can walk after the tow truck gets here. The fresh air will be nice."

"You sure, Paige?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll holler if I need you." She agreed, reluctantly, and we said goodbye. I could always count on her. She was the bright spot in my life and I was grateful for her every day.

Why did it seem like the world was always out to get me? Hadn't I dealt with enough today, and now this? I shook my head as I pulled my keys out of the ignition. I should get out of the car. I was sitting in the intersection after all; it probably wasn't a great idea to sit here with no lights on in the middle of the night.

As I turned to open the door, I smacked my right hand on the steering wheel. My phone slipped from my fingers, landing on the floor with a thud. It bumped against my foot and slid towards the nose of the car, stopping underneath the gas pedal. Figures.

I couldn't get my foot around the gas pedal well enough to nudge it towards me so I had to slide my seat back to be able to bend over. I rolled my eyes just a little as I bent and twisted to reach my hand towards my phone. My fingers grazed the edge of my phone case. Just a little further…

Suddenly I could hear the sound of a car honking and tires squealing. I shot up, headlights filling my vision before everything went black.