Abby sat on her couch a beer in hand.
The liquid slowly burnt her throat as it seeped down. She didn't care anymore about her health or life.
After she had left Luka's house she had called Carter; Rena answered. She thought he had broken up with her. She had planned on doing the same thing that night with Luka but hadn't gotten the chance. They had arranged to do it on the same night so they could make a clean brake.
The conversation she had had with herself many times was, "Why Abby? Why stay alive? You have no life."
During those times she had always been drunk.
She was drunk now.
The idea's coming from the one-way conversation were becoming appealing - she walked into her bathroom trying to decide on which new tactic to try.
Drugs overdose?
Alcohol induced coma?
Drowning, perhaps?
I could always try a combination, she thought.
Turn on the water, grab another beer, pop a bottle of pills, take a knife to he wrists and throw myself in the water.
At this moment in time she was desperate enough to try anything. She hated life. She hated her work. She hated her friends. But mostly, she hated herself.
It sounded perfect at the time, until someone's face filled her mind - Carter.
Was he still with Rena or was he telling her tonight? She never thought of that.
Maybe she wouldn't do any of those things. Maybe there still was a chance to rectify the situation. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.
This calls for a call to Carter.
"John Carter, please," she stated to the maid on the other line of the phone.
"Just a moment dear," she answered with a very British accent.
"Hello," a confused and drowsy Carter said into the phone.
"John, did I wake you?" Abby said suddenly worried about the time.
"Well, yea but that's okay, what's up?" he asked genuinely worried from the sound of her obviously drunk voice.
"Could you come over, please?" she asked a little worried he might say no considering the time and that Rena still may be over.
"Sure give me half an hour and I'll be there," he said, and then, there was a click.
Abby sat, broken beer bottles all around her, waiting for the knock at the door.