Erica was laying on the floor next to him, suddenly giving off a new air of innocence. Her head was laid upon the toilet, and a flannel blanket was draped across her skinny shoulders.
Gordo glanced in the mirror, but was forced to take a longer gaze when he saw the huge bruise.
"You look terrible," he said aloud to no one in particular, gingerly fingering his black eye.
Besides that, his hair was matted to his forehead and his eyes were bloodshot.
"What happened to me last night?"
He heard the clanging of pots and pans downstairs in what he faintly remembered to be the kitchen, and the pressure onto his temples spiked to nearly violent levels.
Gordo bravely ventured into the bright morning by descending the stairway.
"Good morning, Gordo? Right? Here, I made you and Erica this."
The black-haired girl from the night before, Jen he thought, was sitting at the countertop in her kitchen, slightly pushing a mug towards him.
Gordo took a drink slowly, and whatever he was drinking tasted terrible.
"What is this?" he exclaimed, after spitting the liquid back into his mug.
"Don't ask," Jen replied. "To help with your hangover."
Gordo forced the rest down his throat, pausing slowly after each gulp.
"I don't think we were introduced properly last night. I'm Jennifer," she stated.
"Gordo."
"Are you and Erica dating?" she asked, swirling her coffee with a stirrer.
"I'm not really sure of anything anymore," Gordo replied, taking a seat at the countertop across from her. "Do you guys do that every weekend?"
"Yeah. Pretty crazy, right?"
Gordo sighed.
"Can I ask one question? Why?"
"Short answer? We're a bunch of screwed up kids. Long answer?" she said, pausing. "We'll have to get to know each other better."
Gordo raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Please don't judge us. You have no idea."
"I wasn't going to."
The two both looked down at their cups.
"I have a simple request though," Jen said slowly. "Please help Erica."
"What do you mean?"
"Erica is my oldest and best friend...and...she needs help," she stammered, on the verge of tears. "We met in rehab, while I was recovering from anorexia and she from whatever her mom did to her."
She wiped away the tears that were running down her cheeks.
"I know what she used to be. Track star, intellect, top of the class...perfect...and I know that everything for her is slowly going downhill."
"Promise me that you won't break her anymore, at least," Jen continued. "You don't know how hard I try. Every party I attempt to rescue her; it all started with the drinking, then the drugs, and now the banging of any random guy she sees-"
"I am not just some random guy, and we've not even had sex," Gordo stated angrily. "And plus, if you wanted to help her, then why do you create this environment for her?"
"We're not all perfect, Gordo," she replied. "Some of us have our own demons to fight."
She buried her face into arms, wiped away her tears, and reemerged.
"Just go," she said. "I'll take care of her when she wakes up."
And with that, she showed Gordo the doorway.
MEANWHILE
"Tell me what happened, Dad."
My dad took a deep breath, gripped his gun tightly, and pulled something out of his back pocket.
"Not yet," he exclaimed in answer, and pushed a white rag up to my face.
The rag had a strange smell, sort of sickly sweet. That's all I remembered as everything began to fade to black.
Lizzie rushed to the main foyer as quickly as she could, but when she got there, she found no sign of anyone she knew, not even Matt.
"Lizzie?" a strangely familiar voice yelled.
She whipped around to see a comforting sight running towards her with open arms.
"My baby," Jo Mcguire exclaimed, wrapping Lizzie up into the tightest hug imaginable. "I've missed you so much."
Lizzie was overjoyed and stunned into silence, but she was overcome by the mere sight of her mom.
"I-I thought you were in Purgatory for committing..." Lizzie managed to stammer out, careful not to say suicide.
"Oh, honey, there's so much I need to tell you. First thing first: I was killed."
