*I know it's been a while. Sorry. I know where I want to go with this story, I'm just having a hard time figuring out how to get there. Please be patient. And Reviews are very welcomed, hint hint!*


~
It's hard being alone. It's this empty feeling inside your heart that I can't quite explain. Yet at the same time I want to be left alone. I don't want people around me. People stay around me long enough for me to get attched, and then they leave. People don't like me once they get to know me, so a sure bet for not getting hurt is not getting close to someone. I should have stuck with that route all along. Everytime I think it's going to be different, that I won't get left behind. Everytime I'm wrong. Why can't I learn my lesson? I'm too stupid to realize that I shouldn't even bother with people. Or maybe I'm so desperate for a conection with someone that I'll suffer throught the pain for just a few moments of happiness. Just a few moments. That's all for Abby.

I gave up drinking before because I was pissed. I was pissed at being stereotyped. Mostly I was pissed at Richard. He thought I couldn't be anything but a helpless drunk woman. I showed him, and we got married. I needed to prove that I could be a normal well adjusted person. I needed to, but I couldn't. He quickly found out how I really was, and he moved on to something with bigger breasts. Asshole. I didn't turn back to the bottle though. I didn't want him to know that he had hurt me so much. I didn't want him to know how much influence he had over me. I didn't want him to know that I needed him, and eventually I didn't. I was still pissed at the world though, and I wasn't going to let it get me down, so I didn't drink.

My attitude is different now. I'm not angry, I just hate myself. I have nothing to prove to anyone anymore. What's the point? I'm a pathetic, worthless, ugly person, and no matter what I do I won't be anything but that. There's no reason for me to be a good person, so why shouldn't I let myself waste away. I don't want to save me, and neither does anyone else.

The phone rings twice, but I don't answer it. I let the machine get it. No one important would be calling me. Besides, I don't think I could talk well enough to have a conversation with someone.

"Abby? This is Dr. Weaver," proclaims the voice in my machine. "Listen, you've missed three shifts in a row now and we haven't even heard from you. I hope everything's alright, but if this keeps going on I'm afraid I'm going to have to take some disciplinary action, and I really don't want to do that. Just call the ER and let me know what's going on, alright?" There was a short pause before she hung up.

It's been three weeks since I last talked to Carter, and three days since I've showed up for work. I no longer see the point in trying to have a normal life, so I've decided to never leave my house again. I've only left my bedroom to pee and get more alcohol from the kitchen. Why shouldn't I waste away? Because I have responsibilities? It's nothing somebody else couldn't do. It's not like I'm irreplaceble. The world will still turn without Abby Lockheart.

~
BANG! BANG! BANG!

The knocking on my front door wakes me up. I can barely make out the numbers on the clock. I think it says six o'clock, but I have no idea if it's am or pm. I guess it doesn't matter though.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Alright, alright!" I shout to the door. I don't care who's knocking, I just want it to stop. I stumble out of bed and knock over a bottle as I do so. I pick it up and take a swig of it's contents. Vodka, an excellent choice.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Abby! If you're here open the door!" says an annoyed voice. My mind is too fuzy to recognize it.

I use furniture to help myself up as a try and walk to the door. Somehow I make it there. I barely unlock the deadbolt before I fall to the floor. My butt makes a thumping sound when I fall, and that makes me laugh. By the time Whoever opens the door I'm laughing uncontrolably. All I can make out of them is that it's a man.

"Abby?" he says with concern as he squats down to my level.

"Luka!" I exclaim when I finally recognize him. "What brings you by?" I'm laughing as I talk.

"You've been missing for three days," he reminds me. "Have you been drinking?"

"Just a little," I say, though the empty bottles in my living room give me away. I never told him I was an alcoholic. This is all new to him.

"Why?" he questions me. "Is everything all right?"

"No!" I yell at him. "Nothing's all right! Everything's fucked!" The idiot. Can't he see I've hit the bottom? Of course it's not all right.

He doesn't say anything in reply.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"Well, you've been looking out for me. I'm returning the favor," he explained.

"Well don't," I say. "I don't need help." I manage to stand up, and Luka does too. I stumble to the living room, falling on my couch. There's a bottle on the coffee table with liquid still in it. I pick it up to drink it, but Luka snatches it out of my hand.

"You need to stop," he says.

"Leave me alone!" I try to get the bottle back from him, but it's no use. He's a very strong man. I give up and start to cry.

"Please," I beg. "Leave me alone." I can could tell I'm about to pass out.

"Finally," I thought. "Alcohol poisoning."

~
Unfortunatly for me, I woke up. I recognize the place as the ER. Luka must have brought me here. He could of at least taken me to Mercy or something. But I guess he didn't have time to think about that.

"Abby," says Dr. Weaver when she walks in the room. "Nice to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

She pauses for a reply, but I don't give her one. My head is reeling. I notice an IV connected to my hand. They must be detoxing me.

"You're blood/alcohol level is unbelievably high. You're lucky to be alive, Abby."

"No I'm not," I think to myself.

"I'll come talk to you when your detox is finished. There's a few things we need to discuss."

I close my eyes when she leaves the room. I'm so tired. I just want to sleep forever.

"Abby," says a voice into my ear. My eyes flutter open to see Luka sitting beside me. "What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I ask.

"Not that. What happened to make you drink so much?"

"Evrything's wrong, that's all."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he says. "If it's anything I've done, just tell me how I can make it up to you."

"You didn't do anything Luka. I've been this way my whole life. I was just trying to be something I'm not. This is the real me."

"Why didn't you ask for help?"

"I'm beyond help."

"Luka?" comes a voice from the door.

It's the blonde French Waitress. Hasn't she gone away yet?

"Are you ready to go?" she asks.

"Yeah," Luka replies. Turning to me he asks, "Are you sure you don't need anything?"

I nod silently, and then so does he before leaving with Nicole. She wraps her arm around his as they walk away. I close my eyes again.

~
When I wake up I notice I'm still in the same room, although the IV has been removed.

"Good, you're awake," says Weaver when she enters the room. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," I reply.

"Listen," she begins. "I've been talking with Dr. Greene as to what to do with you. Neither one of wants to fire you. And now that it's apparent that you weren't fit to come in to work these past few days we don't think we have to. However, since you were irresponsible in that you didn't let anyone know what was going on, we feel some sort of disciplinary action is in order. So you're going to be suspended for two weeks. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I say. "It's not your fault." I'm finally sober again.

"There's something else I need to talk to you about. Something came up when we did your blood test."

Normally I'd be scared, but I've gotten to the point where I don't care it I live or die. I couldn't care less it they found out I was sick.

"You're pregnant."

Okay, now I'm scared.

"If you'd like I can do a sonogram to see how for along you are."

I don't reply, I just stare blankly.

"I'll come back after you've had some time to take this all in."

She leaves, and I continue to stare blankly. This is the worst thing that could have happened.