Ah, yes, the big breakup. Mimi had known that she wouldn't be able to live with her boyfriend forever, as she never engaged in truly serious or deep relationships, but, for some reason, she just didn't see it coming.

The screen showed Mimi, still fifteen, arguing furiously with her boyfriend, arms flailing about. They were getting tired of living together and now argued over everything; this had been the last argument.

Over her roughly six-month stay at this apartment, Mimi had developed her drug addiction, which was still with her. She had tried different drugs before, but never became dependent until now. Her boyfriend had been addicted to crack, and with him shooting up all the time, Mimi just jumped on the bandwagon. It allowed her to escape her lonely life and actually feel good, at least for a little while. It also happened to be convenient that her appetite decreased, as there wasn't much money for food anyway.

The relationship ended, of course, with the scene being displayed. The dumping was basically mutual, but Mimi had been kicked out.

She was almost glad to get out, but had no idea where to go. She certainly wasn't going back to her family, where she was sure she wasn't wanted. So, she left with her few possessions. She had no friends, no money, and nowhere to go; in fact, she had little more than a desire for crack.

Driven by this desire, she set out to find a job. What else could she do? She needed money. She knew, however, that it would be a long while before she would have enough for her own apartment, and she wasn't exactly jumping at the opportunity to be homeless until then.

Deciding that she simply could no longer afford pride, she slowly dialed the familiar number of her family's home (not her home, as she had decided the moment she moved in) on the nearest payphone.

"Hello?" said her mother's smooth voice. Mimi paused--nothing would come out of her mouth. "Hello?" her mother said again, more impatiently. "Hi, mama? It's Mimi," she mustered. "Mimi?! Baby, how are you. I haven't heard from you in so long!" "I'm alright, but…um…I need to ask a favor." "Okay." "Uh, mommy, I need to borrow some money for, uh, an apartment." "What about that boy you were living with?" "We broke up and he kicked me out." "Oh, I'm sorry. You know, you could just come home…if you want to." "No, mama, I…I can't." "Mimi, why don't we meet somewhere and talk this over."

So she and her mother met at a restaurant, seeing each other for the first time since Mimi had stormed out. Mrs. Marquez, who was fairly well off by this time, agreed to loan Mimi enough money for an apartment. Mrs. Marquez would rather have given all of her life savings to Mimi than see her daughter on the streets. Mimi had never paid her mother back, but neither of them had really expected her to.

They found an apartment that day, and Mimi assured her mother that she would find a job, try to stay in school, and reminded her once again that she would be okay alone. She knew her mother did care, but Mimi had developed a habit of shutting people out.

She suddenly realized how far her mind had wandered. This tunnel seemed to encourage mind wandering, even force it. Her fifteen-year-old counterpart was still arguing heatedly. But, soon enough, she was moving through the tunnel again.