Hello folks. I don't actually think this is going anywhere at all but I decided to add a little anyway because I've not written anything in ages. This chapter's all from Joan's p.o.v.

Next may be from Adam.

Just one shout out:

Lemmingally: Hey dude! You are my most loyal reader and you rock. I miss you loads right now. Not seen you in hours (4 and a half to be exact). Hezzie xxx

Joan lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. A ceiling she had seen a lot of recently.

A month in bed. Not bad Joan.

Joan had become very used to having conversations with her herself. Her mom had tried to get her to get up, eat something, go to school, do anything at first. After the first week (in bed) school broke up for Christmas. It passed in a haze of indifference. Gifts from her parents, Grace, Luke, Kevin, they lay neglected in her closet. She had got up on Christmas morning for her mom's sake only, opening everything in the smallest amount of time possible before retreating back to solitude of her room.

It was no secret to her that everyone thought she's cracked up again. There was one mentally agonising hour when Dr. Dan came for a home-visit. She had zoned in and out of everything he said, closing down as she heard words she didn't like to use anymore such as 'Judith', 'Death' and 'Baby'.

God! Just how much did my mom tell him?

She pretended to fall asleep eventually. He had spoken to her mom, mentioning 'post traumatic stress disorder' and 'severe depression.'

Can I not just take some down time without my parents calling the shrink and feeling the need to supervise me 24-7 to make sure I don't slit my wrists?

There had been no gift from Adam this Christmas. Joan hadn't spoken to him in weeks. He had come round the day of Judith's funeral, protesting to Helen on the porch, demanding to see her. Helen had weakened slightly, calling up to her to announce his arrival officially. Joan just shook her head at him from the spot where she was stood at the top of the stairs. He left.

Last time Joan had checked her email inbox, there were 27 unread messages. A few from cousins and other people wishing her a happy Christmas,

Very merry, yeah.

4 were from Grace; 1 from Mrs. Montgomery; 19 from Adam. She had left them unopened.

Joan turned over in bed, trying to get comfortable. She was sick of these four walls; this bed, the pillows and the comforter were smothering her. She had moved into the realms of her head these past few months, attempting to escape all the shit going on in her life. It turned out things weren't that pleasant there either.

That's it Joan. I really need to pull myself together a bit. Starting with… starting with all the stuff you've been avoiding…

Reluctantly, she hauled herself out of bed.

From: 'Grace'

Was just wondering if you were okay. Well, that's it really. You will never hear me say this (or write it) again so don't get used to it, but, call me.

From: 'Grace'

So anyway, it's Judith's funeral tomorrow, but you already know that. Rove and I are meeting at his house to go together. 9o'clock, I was thinking you could meet us too. Call me, or mail me back, to come over, send messenger pigeons, anything Girardi. Just get in touch? Grace.

From: 'Grace'

Where were you Joan? What happened? You missed your friend's funeral? What's going on?

From: 'Grace'

dude, I'm worried about you! I came over today, your mom said you were sleeping. Were you? Or didn't you want to see me? What's up?

From: 'Mrs. Montgomery'

Missed you last week at the funeral. I'm really sorry that you couldn't be there. I know you were a very special person in Judith's life and I know you must be hurting right now... Get in touch whenever you can, I'd very much like to see you. Judith would want us to help each other Joan. My love to you, sweet child.

Christie

Joan's hand shook slightly as the mouse point hovered over the first of the messages from Adam. She stopped.

They can wait.

She grabbed a towel and some fresh clothes and went for a shower.

\\\\\\\\\\\\

As Joan walked up the cold, stone path through the graveyard she stopped to read the inscriptions on the head stones. She said hi to Rocky but couldn't quite bring herself to seek out the resting place of Elizabeth Rove.

Her parents had been reluctant to let her out. They had continually stressed what a 'big big step' it was, talking to her like she had the mental age of 5.

Maybe they're not far wrong.

Eventually, she found the right place.

Judith Montgomery

1989-2005

Beloved Daughter and Friend

Joan leaned in and squinted to inspect the small marking at the very bottom of the stone. A lump developed in her throat as she read the added marking, that appeared to have been done with a file or some sort chisel of by hand,

'and baby'.

Adam…

Joan sat down on the frosty ground and planted a kiss on the marble in front of her. "I'm sorry Jude."