SCENE 22

Cristina and Burke are sitting quietly on the couch. She has a blanket wrapped around her, and they both have a cup of coffee in their hands. Cristina is nervously shifting the mug between her hands. She finally takes a sip, and continues to twist the warm cup in her hands. Burke clears his throat, and they make eye contact.

"Cristina, I know this is hard. But, when you're ready, please tell me about what happened," Burke glances over, and notices Cristina's indifference to what he just said. "I'm only trying to help."

Cristina quickly glances up, but returns her focus to the same coffee mug. She still twisting it back and forth, debating whether or not to talk. A few moments of silence go by and Burke sighs and stands up, and begins toward the kitchen. Before he makes it there, Cristina softly begins to talk,

"Stanford College. It was a dream since I was young, since I knew what college was. It was the goal, the thing I worked towards through high school, even through elementary school; Stanford was the light at the end of the tunnel. The day I found out I was accepted, was the happiest day of my life. I soon got there, and began my studies. My roommate was a girl named Anna. We had similar backgrounds, and both had wanted to go to Stanford for as long as we could remember, the only difference was out tidiness, or lack there of," Cristina was rambling, she knew, but she smirked as she remembered their dorm room. "My bunk usually had pounds of junk piled on top, and all over the floor. Her half of the space was grossly tidy, she said she couldn't work unless everything was just so. I used to drive her nuts. We worked our asses off, and only got mediocre grades. Sure, they weren't bad, but I was valedictorian, and she was salutatorian of our high schools, so to us, we were failing. There just wasn't enough time in the day," Cristina's face turned grim, as the heartbreaking part of her story began. "One day, she got back from class, 'Cristina!' Anna had said, 'I have it, the solution to our problems!' I joked back, 'What the cure for cancer, or is it the common cold?' Then she pulled out the caffeine pills. They worked great, but pretty soon, one didn't tide me over, I needed two. Then two didn't work so well, but three got me through fine. As the months progressed, we both became more and more dependant on those pills." Cristina stopped; she sighed, and shaking, took another sip of her coffee. "It was two weeks before Christmas break, we had exams. I had gone to the library to review with a friend from one of my classes, and Anna had stayed back in our dorm to review there. It was going to be another cramming night. Pizza, pop, studying, and of course the pills. I left the library, and walked to my Dorm. When I entered, there she was, lying there, dead. She had over dosed on caffeine pills." Cristina again stopped her story, this time to dry the tears trickling down her face. "I felt so guilty. I KNEW what they did, why didn't I stop her and myself. At her funeral, I realized, her life was chasing this dream, this dream of being a doctor. She killed herself from working to hard. It was that moment, at her funeral mass, that I decided I would work twice as hard, but without those pills. I threw every single one out, and got to work. Most of the time I didn't make it to bed, but instead slept with my head on the books. I made it through med school for her, my best friend. I finished first. On our graduation date, I went to her grave. I sat there, by myself, and told her about what she had missed, and how this wasn't just my diploma, but hers to. Everything I am I owe to her, she showed me what was important was not only the goal, but getting there." Cristina finished. Her eyes were read and watery, but she was no longer crying. She felt light. No one else knew that story, how she had used the pills too, how she visited the grave, everything. Burke knowingly sat next to her, and wrapped his arms around her, offering her the only comfort he could.