Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah…nothing's mine. Don't rub it in.

A/N: I originally wasn't going to keep going with this but I got a lot of great reviews so I decided to add another chapter. Sorry if this chapter is really bad, there's almost no dialog since Judith really doesn't have anyone to talk to. Sorry if it's boring.

LostS- Thanks, man! You are one of the people who got me to keep going…I hope you don't regret it now…heh.

Angie- Sorry I broke your heart! Haha, enjoy.

HJ Glory- Thank you for the excellences! They meant a lot, especially from you, considering I think you're an amazing writer and love your stories. I fixed that sentence! I can see how it confused you…I should have caught it. Sorry bout that. That scene where Judith dies is really sad…The first time I saw it I was like OH MY GOD SHE ACTUALLY DIES! …cows.

LadyJenny- Thank you! I thought to take it in a different direction…I was thinking maybe she'd remember in bits and pieces instead of all at once because I felt like there was something so mysterious and supernatural about the subject matter, that even Judith shouldn't fully understand it. I understand how you disagreed…I debated with myself over it, but eventually decided to take a risk. 

TheCaptain- Thanks, dude. Keep reading!

Lemmingally- I hope you like this chapter just as much!

Thanks to all reviewers!

Judith sat on Joan's windowsill and watched her rummage through her room, dumping out drawers and going through all her clothes. Judith played with the hem of her skirt absently as Joan picked up the dress she had worn to her date with Adam. Judith watched as Joan seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, looking down at the black fabric, before throwing it in a corner.

"That's not gonna make it all go away." Judith said bluntly. She knew Joan couldn't hear her. Joan would never be able to hear Judith unless she really listened. Judith felt pity for Joan when she remembered what had happened Friday night. She wanted Joan to hear her apologize, but she knew she probably never would.

Judith understood Joan. She always had, it wasn't something she had gained with death. At crazy camp Judith was drawn to Joan seeing herself in her. Judith had been where Joan was, being pushed to the edge and stumbling for faith. The difference between her and Joan was Joan found a way to hang on. Judith let go before she even felt a strain in her arms.

Judith dangled her bare feet out of Joan's window for a moment before leaving the Girardi house.

Judith stood at the end of the Polanski upstairs hallway. It was dark and quiet, seeming too still for someone like Grace to live. At the opposite end of the hall was an open door, a warm light spilling from inside casting a yellow glow on the dark walls. Judith walked towards the room as if she was drawn to the light.

Grace sat curled up on her bed gripping her walkman. She had her headphones slightly crooked, one on her ear and one pushed towards the side, as if she was listening for something. Even alone in her bedroom Judith saw that Grace appeared to be fighting, tense and uncomfortable in her own skin. Judith turned around in the doorway and looked into the open door across the hall. A woman lay soundly on a bed. As Judith moved closer, the all to familiar stench of alcohol reached her and Judith understood. She looked at the bowl placed next to her bed and took note of how Grace had placed her mother stomach down with her head resting off to the side. Judith felt a slight pang of guilt remembering her party and how Grace had found her. She thought about how private Grace was with her life and felt odd invading so she left the Polanski house.

Judith sat on the kitchen counter of her home, swaying her legs off the edge. She looked at the answering machine next to her and pressed the play button upon seeing a red flashing light. "Hi, Fran, this is Mark." A low monotone voice spoke with an urgency, as if he had something much better to do. "I wanted to call and say I'm sorry for your loss and you can take your time getting back to the office." Fran entered the kitchen and looked at the answering machine, confused at how it had turned on. "Suzy's been taking your appointments and-" Fran pressed the stop button quickly before turning around and taking something out of the refrigerator. Judith smiled slightly to herself upon seeing her mother.

Judith looked at Fran curiously. She had developed deep bags under her eyes, which looked unusually dark. Her hair was un-brushed, and she moved slowly, like it hurt. Judith frowned. She'd never seen her mother this bad.

Judith moved into her living room and looked at the pictures on the mantle. There were a few of Judith with her parents when she was much younger, but as she got older in the pictures, there were fewer people with her and her smiles were smaller and forced. She walked to the stairs.

Judith entered her room and felt a pang of emotion upon seeing it exactly how she left it. It looked like her parents hadn't even touched it. Her dresser drawers were still open from Friday morning, clothes spilling out of them. She looked at the bulletin board above her bed, pictures of her and Joan taking up most of it. She felt her eyes fill and left her house.

Judith thought about her parents. They never understood her really, despite how well they could analyze their patients. It used to make her mad. Now she felt guilty because it had been her fault. She never talked to them really. She couldn't expect them to see the ways she had been damaging herself.

Judith felt alone. She hated what she had become. She tried to drag her bare feet on the pavement of the sidewalk but felt no pain. She stepped in the frost on the grass but didn't feel cold or pins and needles. She needed that physical pain to pretend she wasn't dead. She needed it to live.

Judith felt her heart swell. She was exactly the same as she had been before she died. She remembered getting drunk and smoking to purposely damage herself, feeling like she needed that pain. She remembered how she had gotten the scars on her arms, wanting to control that pain. She didn't want to remember anymore.

Judith stood in the doorway of Adam's shed, frozen. She felt herself smile, tears falling down her cheeks. Adam sat on a stool in front of an upright canvas, sketching. He looked deep in thought or concentration. The vague outline on the canvas was familiar. It was her.

Her picture was clipped to the top of the canvas. She felt like reaching out and hugging Adam. She tried not to remind herself that she couldn't.

Judith walked down the street, not sure where she was going. An older looking man turned a corner, being pulled by at least six dogs on leashes. He stopped and looked at her. "Judith", He said with a smile. "it's time to go."

Judith continued towards him. "I know." She said quietly, grateful that someone could hear her. Both of them turned the corner and left together.