You know what? Maybe I'll take this someplace... probably it won't be someplace fun. But hey, I enjoy that :P

-

Sometimes people get involved in bad stuff. Drugs, drinking, stealing. My thing is cutting. None of it makes us bad people. We've all just made bad choices. And what's important isn't what you've done, it's what you do. Whether you chose to recover, to make amends, to stop doing what you were.

Some things are harder to quit than others. Drugs aren't the only addicting habits. I know a lot of people who think cutting is just a cry for attention. That it's some thing teen girls do to be cool, and pretend they have grown up issues But the thing is, this is real. It's not a game. You can die from it. Whatever the cause, the issue is real, and it shouldn't just be over looked.

I'm trying. That's all anyone can ask of me.

Still, it's just not easy to feel good about yourself when you're sitting at home alone, again, wasting yet another Friday night in front of the TV. And there's not even anything good on, and isn't that a kick in the ass?

What's worse...spending the night alone with sitcoms that aren't even funny, or complaining about it, instead of trying to change it?

Yeah, rhetorical question there.

That is why I, Ellie Nash, decided to get off my butt, get dressed up, and go out.

Normally I'm not much of a partier. Crowded rooms make me feel claustrophobia, and the strobe lights in clubs make me nauseous. This was an extenuating circumstance, though, and I decided it had to be done.

I donned my party clothes, a black mini skirt, and a black top with fishnet sleeves. Making sure my black arm warmers concealed what the fishnets showed off, I lined my eyes a bit darker than normal. I added some dark lipstick and some gloss, put my hair up in a simple ponytail, and posed in front of the mirror, feeling silly, but I thought I looked good.

I grabbed my purse, and had a brief moment of indecision.

Should I really do this? I had little spending money as it was, and rent would be due at the end of the month. What was going to happen now that Sean was gone? Could I pay rent, get student welfare like him? Would his still show up? Did anyone official even know he was gone?

Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden wave of questions hitting me, I announced to the empty apartment, "Fuck it.", and immediately felt older, more in charge, with the profanity my mom discouraged me from using.

I selected a small amount of cash from my wallet, enough for a cab and to get in the club, and maybe get a drink, and left the rest inside, tucked away in my underwear drawer.

Tucking the money into the zippered pocket of my skirt, I headed out the door.

Look out, world, here comes Ellie Nash.

-

The rave was held in an old building just outside town. I asked the driver to drop me off a few blocks away, and trekked the last of the distance, thankful my knee high boots didn't have insane heels on them.

Inside the old building, with the lights dimmed, kids were dancing, wildly twirling glow sticks and meshing their bodies into one massive throng of people. Amidst the crowd, I could see familiar faces, which comforted me.

I had heard of the rave in passing, from some girl talking with Manny Santos.

"I'm not sure," Manny said warily, but I saw that she had overcome any fears, because she was tearing it up on the dance floor.

I felt suddenly stupid, standing there all alone, no one to dance with, no one to talk to.

I saw a bunch of coolers at the end of the building, with water and soda, and no one asking for money, so I headed over there, making my way past the few people standing on the edge of the dancers.

Selecting a Diet Coke from the nearest open chest of ice, I popped the top and took a drink, eager to look like I was doing anything but just standing.

The next thing I knew, a body was bumping into mine, and soda was down my chest. Great.

"What the ?" I cried indignantly, turning around.

"Sorry - sorry," the kid said, turning around, putting out his hands, and blinking. "Ellie?"

"Craig?" I said, frowning, but almost glad to see him.

"Hey!" he said brightly, for some reason looking happy to see me. "How's it!"

"How's what?" I asked, rolling my eyes, and feeling bad for it.

"Aww, what's wrong?" he asked, wrapping his arm around me and laughing. "Not enjoying the party?"

"Craig, are you drunk?" I asked him, pushing him off and getting a bit angry.

"Nooo," he said, leaning in to whisper. "I'm much better."

His laugh in my ear put a breath of hot air on my cheek, and I stepped back a bit, clutching my drink. "Are you okay?"

For a moment his face fell, then he grinned again. "Yeah! This is great! What are you doing here? You're usually not..."

"Social?" I finished for him.

Looking apologetic, he shrugged. "Well, yeah."

"Needed to get out, y'know?" I said, shrugging, too.

"I so get that," he said, sounding less out there now. "I heard about what happened with Sean."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Emma told me," he said, "when she was babysitting Ange the other night? She said he stayed back there, she wasn't talking about you, okay?"

I nodded, relaxed. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Are you, like, even enjoying this?" he asked, waving his hand at the dance floor.

"I just got here," I told him. "So...no."

He laughed again. "Me either. It's lame. I was dancing with Ash, and she got all pissed, because I think I tried to kiss her or something, and we're "just friends"."

"You think?" I asked with a smirk.

"Uh...okay, yeah, I did, but I didn't mean anything by it!" he said, putting his hands out helplessly.

"Riiiight," I laughed.

"So, you wanna go outside and get some air?" he said, pulling at the collar of his shirt. "I'm suffocating."

I narrowed my eyes again, searching his flushed face.

"No hooking up," he said, obviously reading my expression. "I'm seriously hot, I just need to get out before I pass out, and you're bored, and I could use some comapny, and - ."

"I'll go," I said, interrupting his ramble.

"Cool!" he said, and started to the door.

I followed, holding my half empty can of soda, and feeling a little less like a loser.

Outside, it was chilly, but it felt good to my hot skin, so I sat next to Craig on the curb, just beside a black pickup truck, crossing my legs and staring at my boots.

"So, Ash is here?" I asked.

"Yeah," he nodded a reply. "I know it doesn't seem like her scene, right?"

"Not really," I said. "But it's not really mine either."

"True," he said, thoughtfully. "I pretty much begged her to come. She was enjoying herself, too, I could tell. Until I tried to kiss her, that is."

"Why did you even?" I asked, bending the tab on the top of the can back and forth until it popped off in my hand.

He shrugged. "I dunno. Wanted to."

"That's always a good plan," I said sarcastically, tossing the tab at the tire of the pick up.

"So I thought," he said mournfully. "Oh well, though, right? Whatever."

The smile was back in an instant. "Doofus."

He grinned even wider. "Thanks!"

I shook my head, but was unable to keep a smile off my face at his goofy attitude. "Craig, you're stoned, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a little," he said, holding up his thumb and forefinger with a small margin in between.

What do you say to that? Bad Craig, no cookie? Sure, I was a little surprised; I'd never known anyone outside of Jay's crew who did drugs, even just once in a while, let alone someone like Craig.

I settled for the lamest reply I could muster, "Oh...okay."

He smiled at me again, then suddenly his face fell, and he looked forward, slumping over and resting his chin on his knees. "You know...I saw Jimmy."

"In the hospital?" I asked, curious. "How was he?"

"No, not the hospital," Craig said, picking at the fraying knee of his jeans. "At school."

I furrowed my brow. I knew little of what had happened to Jimmy. I heard of Emma, Toby, and Sean's experience in detail, but not Jimmy. All I knew was he had been shot, and was in the hospital.

"When...Rick shot him," Craig said, his eyes fixed on the asphalt. "I turned a corner, just trying to get outside, no big deal, and there he was...on the ground, on his stomach, blood all around him."

I blanched.

"How can one person bleed that much?" he said, finally turning to me, eyes pleading. "There was so much blood, all from him, and I wanted to do something. Rick was right there, staring at Jimmy's...at his body. And he had the gun, and he just...walked away. It was so unbelievably fucked."

I sat there, still unsure of what to do. I couldn't offer any condolences, because none would do. I couldn't say I knew how he felt, because I didn't.

"That must have sucked," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He laughed drily. "Yeah. You can say that again."

Naturally, I didn't. Instead, I found myself offering, "Listen...if you ever need someplace to crash...someone to talk to?"

He stared at me like he didn't understand what I was offering.

I couldn't blame him. I didn't know why I was, not really.

"It gets lonely in that stupid place," I shrugged. "I get lonely."

Craig nodded slowly, then stood. "I better get back in there. Apologize or whatever."

I shrugged again, staring at my boots. "Sure. Later."

"Later," he said, and was gone, leaving me sitting on the curb alone.

With a sigh, I stood, too, and headed home. The night was pretty much ruined from the start.