"I killed Donny, It's my fault he died." Helena thought bitterly. "I could have helped him, but I didn't" She was out for a walk through her downtown. People were everywhere. Some, knowing her and knowing what she'd been through, stopped to give their condolences. She had to go home. She couldn't bear the thought of breaking down in public.

The funeral had been a month ago, but she couldn't expect to be over it so soon. Would she ever really be over it? Her parents, always the mentors, had assured her it was ok to mourn, as long as she didn't let it overwhelm her.

How could it not overwhelm her? Donny was dead. Helena could have saved him, but she was too weak. Right there, right then, Helena promised herself she would never, ever be too weak for anything. "This time my weakness killed someone, it'll never happen again." Helena was disgusted with herself.

She trudged into her house. Her mother noticed her scowl and tried to say soothingly, "How are you feeling, dear?"

Helena wasn't having any of it. 'How do you think I'm doing?" She wanted to scream. However, she contained herself. From all the studying she did, she should have known bottling up her feelings was a dreadful mistake.

Pressure in her temples. She wanted to scream, to somehow let her feelings known. Helena, sadly, was never very good at articulating the things that rarely perturbed her. She'd rather talk about beauty, grace, or happiness.

'You look so angry, dear," Her mother noticed. "Maybe you should go lay down? Get some rest."

"Mother...:" Helena started, "no amount of rest could ever EVER tame how I'm feeling at this moment." A sudden wave of sorrow overcame her. That's how her feelings were these days. Sometimes she was able to find a few moments of peace, only to feel guilty moments later for daring to ignore the lamenting she was supposed to be going through. A constant wave of tranquility and anguish.

Her mother stated, matter-of-factly, "I know you're sad, but you can't go on like this."

"If you were in my spot," Helena countered, "what would you do?"

It was a spot they found themselves in almost daily. Her mother, not wanting to see her beloved daugher suffer, came off as insensitive. Helena, lost in a world of depression, found it insensitive of herself to feel any slight joy.

She imagined Donny, what he would be doing today. Probably would be in the lake right now, it was a very nice day. He had loved the water almost as much as she. He called it a mutual respect for the wonders of H20. What had they been doing that day, before they got in the water? Helena could barely remember, and that ate her up. What had Donny been talking about that day? That particular day.

She had forgotten.

Losing all sense of the control she desperately clinged to, Helena let out a piercing scream.

Instantly, the kitchen door slammed shut. Light bulbs burst. Her mothers knick knacks flew off the shelves and crashed to the floor.

Helena stopped. They were astonished. There was so much broken glass.

"Helena?" Her mother gasped. "Are you a..." she could hardly say the word. "mutant?"