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His eyes squinted, "I saw you in my--o," He grabbed his stomach in pain.

Mariah's eyes clouded with worry. She feels like she caused this. How? She doesn't know him. She gulped strangely.

She watched his mother rub his shoulder gently. He was still weak. His arms bore scares visible and bright to anyone. Almost as if he purposely made them be seen. His face and skin were deathly white as she wondered more about what happened to him.

His mother than looked in her direction. She stepped back. The look she was giving Mariah was the same one she remembered her own mother giving her when she woke up. Only, this look held a more heartfelt gaze.

Mariah's heart broke with this woman's. She can't imagine the pain going through her mind, but oddly, she feels it.

His mother made her way to Mariah slowly taking a hold of her hands, "I'll be right back. I just can't be in this room too long. Thank you for understanding."

Mariah nodded sincerely, "Of course."

She almost felt as if she might cry on the spot as she dropped her hands and made her way out the door. When the door was shut, Mariah looked down at her feet. Shivering as the ill silence surrounded them.

She heard rustling and looked at the man in the bed. His eyes piercing her, strangely, she was intrigued. She spoke softly, "Are you OK?"

The man winced as he took his time sitting up in bed, "I am. Who are you?"

"Mariah." She said, simply.

He looked down than up, fixing his focus on the girl. There was more to know. He wanted to know more than just her name.

"Like the singer?"

She scoffed inwardly, "No, not like the singer. I mean, well she had it before me so I guess."

He tried to laugh and winced slightly in the process, "Interesting."

She felt really uncomfortable now. "What is?"

He smirked, "The way you put the answer. It was sort of one of those yes or nos."

She was a little confused, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know I guess."

He started laughing again, this time coughing. She came a little closer to him suddenly, "Are you alright, do you want some water?"

She was really close now and it was distracting him. She noticed this and kept her distance from before. He cleared his throat and looked at her, "No, I actually have too much here already. My family likes to make sure I have everything, in the two-packs."

She nodded, "Oh, OK... Well, I--"

He was looking at her seriously now. That was a little outlandish. He felt like she was about to say something really personal. But than again, she knows about what happened to him. God knows how she met his mother. He just let it alone. Last thing he wanted to do was pry into a stranger's personal issues.

She cleared her throat gently, "I was just going to say that I wouldn't know what that feels like."

He hadn't expected her to say that. There was that weird silence rising up again. She didn't know what to do. The florescent lights caught a glimpse of the pinkness that paled from her cheeks. She was getting flustered. She dared to look at him. His forehead appeared crinkled with lines. His breath was strange. It seemed if it had sped up faster by the second. Something plagued him suddenly, "How do you know my mom?"

She took a deep breath and sat down on the visitor's chair. "I really don't. I just met her actually."

Would explain the uneasiness she portrayed. But than again, in light of the current situation, she could just be uneasy about what had happened. He was confused but it made sense still.

"I see." He eyed her. She was looking down in thought. It bothered him how quiet and uno-sentenced she is.

He observed a smile forming. Made some light come through the dark impenetrable room. "Guess I'm making things more awkward for you. I don't know what made me come here, but somehow I was just pulled to."

This is something new. Where did this come from? More importantly, why was it making sense to him? He felt it too, suddenly. This strong magnetic pull. Out of nowhere. The strangest thing. It seems like a second chance is being given and he wasn't the only one.

He looked at her with a slight tilt of his head. "Really? Strange thing is, in fact, a lot of strange things have happened this past week."

Mariah raised her hand as if she were in class. "Amen. A lot of things have been unexplainable. I feel like praying or something but than I remembered I'm a reformed atheist."

The corners of Josh's mouth turned upward. "Good to know. I think a lot of times I wish I didn't have to force myself to believe in something that seems ridiculous."

Mariah fiddles with the bottom hem of her sweater, "My family was kind of too invested into organized religion. Personally, I think it's a neurological disorder. That's probably the reason why I did what I did."

His eyes squinted, "What was that?"

She braced herself and took in a deep breathe, as long as they're in the personal zone, "It was wild. At first it didn't hurt. Made more sense than anything I've done. All I wanted to do was stop it. I couldn't breathe and when I reached my breaking point, it was easier than I thought. It made me feel alive."

She stopped when she realized how silent it was. She pursed her lips and looked up at him. He was wide awake with that same look displayed. Maybe she shouldn't say too much.

She laughed nervously, "Yeah, well, I should get going. I mean, this… I don't know what this is but I should really go."

She waited. She watched Josh's eyebrows raise up. Something's not right. She watched his mouth as he spoke, "Are you uncomfortable?"

She gave it some thought but didn't need it. "Somewhat, I am."

"OK, are you leaving?"

"Leaving?"

"Are you leaving the hospital?"

She nodded slowly, "I should be…"

He suddenly held her hand. Not in a brisk way but in a genial manner. Like a friend. "Why? You don't have to. I feel like you know what I'm going through more than anyone else."

As in dueling suicides, yeah they had something massive in common. She felt him take a firmer grasp, felt like a silent promise. What? She pursued the question mentally.

"Why do you think that?"

"Just the way you talked about what went wrong."

She backed away from his grip sternly, "No, I really should go…" she started to stutter now.

He laughed softly, it was music to Mariah's ears. "Alright, well, it was fun having you here; even though I'm not sure exactly how you got here."

She managed to smile a little, "Me either."

"Kinda funny how it makes sense."

Mariah shook her head. "Hardly."

His ears perked up, "That's amusing. Why do you go there?"

"Go where?"

"To that direction?"

Mariah's head started to throb, "I don't know, I've been through a lot, I guess I just don't feel like talking in general."

Talking was the main thing that troubled Mariah in the past. Everybody always had it down. They knew the words and how to say them. It sounds easier said than done. Mariah hated clichés but this one was a given. It's not just that she's shy, people actually think she's mute sometimes.

It irritated her more than anything. She had an opinion but it was just difficult to share when you know people weren't going to listen. Mariah had sudden flashbacks to her high school. Everyone had thought she was Edward Scissorhands. Between the nerd and the loner. The freak of nature, only because she didn't run her mouth every .5 seconds. More like disgusting nightmares, than memories.

She shuddered in the room as she was brought back, she realized she was still in the room. This guy sort of reminded her of the people back than. Always wanting to make small talk. But guys who did that only wanted one thing. Again, Mariah hates clichés.

"Well, do you wanna talk about anything?" He said, scaring her a little.

Her eyebrows bunched together, "Why are you so concerned about this?"

He smirked, "A simple yes or no wouldn't have been better."

Mariah rolled her eyes, "Its not that easy. Look, no offense, I really don't know what's going on and I think I need to go."

"Alright, well, you could have gone a while ago but you're still here. I not a fate follower--"

She cut Josh off, "Yeah, you know, OK. I'm gonna go out now."

She turned around, determined to make a clean exit and not get sucked into something that will drive her anymore crazy than she already feels.

The last thing she needs is crazy thoughts filling her head.

She turned the handle and stepped out calmly. She ignored the pull to the door that she shut behind her. As soon as she stepped out she felt someone take her hand.

She turned and her eyes were apathetic. Peter Anderson pulled his daughter into a hug and held her there. To Mariah, it was overkill and against her will.

"Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?" He pulled back when he felt her push his body away.

"I'm fine, Dad. Where is she? Are you guys finished?"

He nodded, his mouth turned into a thin smile, "Your mother is finished but afterwards, I saw her talking to another woman here. I wasn't really a part of it but your mother mentioned that her son is going through a hard time."

"Well, is she done?" She didn't want to sound rude but staying here was stifling enough on her neurons.

Peter shook his head, "Not yet, honey. She's in the waiting room with Karen right now. I was talking to her husband Roy before. He's out there too. It's pretty heated. You're mother's very emotional now so try to not get her so upset maybe."

"Yeah, OK. Maybe my suicide didn't just make her emotional enough. I wish Eric never found me."

He touched her shoulder and she flinched back, "Don't say that. Please, we really care about you. We're here for you OK?"

She didn't want to hear the psycho babble bull s hit anymore. She knows in her heart the real truth how who they both are. If they did care, she wouldn't be here. If they actually listened to her maybe she wouldn't feel so destitute. If they did care, she wouldn't feel the need to swallow massive amounts of pills.

She had a strange night already, and the last thing she needed was it to get strange with such pretentious words.

"No, I'm not going through with this anymore. I'm getting mom and we're going. Get away from me." She huffed away toward the waiting room.

Mariah nearly sped past her father and made her way to the wait area. She spotted the coffee machine and sighed in relief. But her mother and what looked like a man and a woman handing hands in deep-sated conversation on the opposite side of the room.

Mariah rolled her eyes and marched over them, praying that she was finished. As she got closer, the woman on her right looked really familiar. When she saw her face, she felt like she'd been socked openly in the stomach. It was her. Josh's mother. What the hell was she doing talking to her mother like they were close friends.

All the faces had turned to Mariah and she felt like she'd just been caught for shop-lifting something.

She found her voice slowly, "Mom, hi, did you finish everything?"

Suddenly she was afraid to say anything else. She didn't want to seem like a bitch to people she barely knew.

The woman she prayed would forget her had recognized her, "Mariah, how is Josh?" She made a side note to her mom, "She spoke to my son earlier. I told her it would help him."

Mariah started to pre-sweat now. "Um, yeah well, I didn't want to be rude."

The woman nodded, "Trust me sweetie, everything helps."

Darla suddenly chirped in, "Honey we've invited Karen and Roy to dinner tonight. I figured since, it would help everyone deal with what's happened."

Huh? What? Mariah's eyes bugged out of their sockets, "Uh, mom, no offense, is this the best idea? I mean, I still feel really tired and I just want to go home."

Darla was impervious, "I believe it is. Besides, its nice to do. Do I make myself clear? The Chasezs are coming for dinner tonight. Understood?"

Oh boy, no sympathy ever. Did she have a choice, "Their son is coming too?"

Karen laughed, "Oh, don't worry sweetie, you've already met Joshua."

Life has officially sucked from then on.

How much more of this can she take? Was she not being obvious enough about everything? She tried to kill herself and its not real. She prayed that the world would be quiet and peaceful for once but it was almost as if that dream was ripped apart as soon as she came back to life. This is death, everything that goes with the fight.

She drummed her fingers upon the black leather car seat and rolled her eyes at the thought that her parents actually gave two s hits about her. She didn't know where it came from but, she had the feeling that they wanted to kill her in her dreams.

If only they did. If only they actually went through with it. What would that be like to die? It's possible, its always possible. Just like The Hours, where Virginia Wolfe contemplates the idea of dying to lying in a silent, wastrel life without love or any kind of emotion. It feels like that most days. That was her favorite book.

Lately, Mariah has grown obsessed with death and how one dies. It's the biggest mystery ever. Where do they go? What happens the moment in that moment when everything goes extra quiet? Between the lines of dark and light. She wanted to know. She was hungry for finding out the truth for once. At least something in her life would make sense.

She flicks away a lone tear falling fast and folded her arms. Everything was out control and things are back to where they were before. It was hard to believe alive when you're brought back to life and nothing changes. Especially when you've raised yourself with a free-spirited outlook.

Before she got used to the solace in her mind, she was there. Back in hell. She was frozen in her place. Scared to move. Her eyes… the only source of action to her passive response. She looks at her tired fingers knowing nothing else. The lines reminded her of an old weeping williow and she didn't exactly fancy it much.

She shook roughly as Darla spoke, "Did you hear me, Mariah? Hello?"

She shook her head slightly, "What?"

Darla rolled her eyes, "I said step out and help me make dinner tonight."

She started to protest with her arms, "Mom, I don't really wan--"

Darla held up her finger as yield sign, "No, the Chasezs will be coming over and we must treat our guests with respect. Now, get out and start helping me and your father with preparing it."

Mariah was tight-lipped. There was no way out of this one. She'd have to just bite her tongue and do it. What she really wanted was to be by herself… Someplace where no one exists and the possibilities of silence is endless.

She groans as the world sucks once again and slops her way inside the house that she thought she'd never step in again. It looked slightly grainy, almost like out of some 70s archival footage. The walls were cracked and Mariah felt like she was closed in. The overall scenery was too stifling for her. She had the feeling that any moment, someone would jump out and scare her.

Mariah clutched her shoulders, trying to hide herself as she took slow steps toward her upstairs bedroom. She had to hold on the railing for a moment to stop her movements. She paused her brain. Everything was muddled beyond repair. It started all over again. The thoughts she had a week ago, the thundering realization of gloomy captivity.

The thoughts were sucked back into her mind as her eyes opened. She was thinking it again. About the moments that happened before it. She willed herself to move and it was barely there but she managed somehow.

She walked in and took off her jacket, placing it on the soft corner chair sloppily. She tries to clear her mind. She made a dash for her bed and collapsed face-first on top.

She closes her eyes. Life is still, lonely, cold, and helpless. She is dreaming but lying awake all the while. She moves her face to the left side for air, still trying to meditate.

Parents really don't understand anything. It was like they don't think twice before closing their legs as soon as babies are conceived. It's not fair. For a while she thought it was all a phase. Like she could change the system or something. It's a fucking corrupt system is what it is.

What is life if all you do is cry and dream of things that are out of reach? What kind of life is that? As she thinks about this, her eyes start to water. Yet again, she's numb. It almost becomes a ritual now. Only she never knows when she will actually do it.

She hears muffled voices downstairs. Her eyes pop open at this. She grows curious a little.

Mariah drags her body up to her door and listens to the familiar voices. Its them, the family from the hospital. What was their name?

"The Chases? Who gives a fuck?" she said to herself tediously.

She noticed her mom and dad were in some kind of deep conversation again. It was gross to see how her mother actually cares to hear what people say other than herself. And her dad was worse. He always gave off the creepy Tom Cruise vibe.

But she also noticed someone not there. The man she met at the hospital. The man she gave her ring to. Something wasn't right. She thought he was coming.

"Oh well…" she said absently.

She closes the door behind her and leans against it inside her room. She jumped as she heard the door knock against her.

She wanted to scream out but she knew she couldn't. Again, she was robbed of freedoms. It was her life, well, what's left of it anyway; not much.

She sighed, "Who is it?"

"Uh, hey, its Josh from well, from before. Can I come in?" He was nervous, but why was he the nervous one?

Can he? Eh… she looks around at the horrible mess in her room for the first time, "Uh, OK, hold on."

She rushed to put her clothes away and miscellaneous nick-nacks in their correct places. She grabbed her jacket and flung it in the closet, closing the mirrored-door afterward.

She went for the door handle, turning meticulously. She knew who it was, she just wanted to appear less out of breath. She pulled the rest of the door open and looked at him.

She would hate to admit it out loud but he had this clueless expression on his face like he was caught doing something bad. It made him look like a child, almost cute.

Nervously she smiled and let go of the door to give a small wave, "Hi, what's going on?"

He rubbed his neck as if shaking a thought out, "Oh, well, your parents are talking to mine now but, I think your mom said they might be going out to dinner. So they said--"

Mariah groaned visibly, "I have to go with them now? S hit, why today?"

She saw his expression and immediately retracted her comments. "I mean, your mom is nice, I'm sure your dad is too, but, I don't know, I'm feeling like a social butterfly today."

He started laughing, "No, uh, actually, she suggested that they go alone. Just the four of them. I was trying to say that but you cut me off."

Mariah smiled sheepishly, "Oh, yeah, sorry… Well, so, OK, why aren't you going?"

"Can I come in first? I kind of get the feeling I offended you by standing here." He gestured to the where he was standing.

She nodded, "Oh yeah, sure."

She got out of the way and took a seat on her bed. She watched him walk in kind of awkwardly. She wondered what he was thinking as he looked about her room. Soaking in the various materials dispersed every which way. Made her feel raw and exposed.

He wouldn't guess she was spoiled, not by the way she's acted so far to him. But half of the stuff, he guessed, she could survive without. Maybe there's something else going on? He thought about that for a second. If there was, she's a good actress in hiding it. Her parents seem too perfect to be considered acceptable. But it wasn't her parents he was interested about. It was her.

Mariah cleared her throat, "I never seen a guy concentrate this much on someone's room since Queer Eye."

He shook from his thoughts and reacted with a slight scoff, "I'm not gay if that's what your getting that."

Even as he said that, he still was preoccupied with checking out her room. But his personal life is none of her business. "I never said you were or even asked it. I thought you were going to answer my question."

He finally looked her. She was leaning on her elbows now, almost sensually but the expression she held, led to otherwise.

He took a seat on the chair in the corner; maintaining his distance. "What was the question again?"

She rolled her eyes pathetically, "Why didn't you go?"

"Because I wanted to stay here, with you." he whispered.

She picked herself up from the bed and crossed her arms, "Why?"

He licked his lips, thinking, "Relaxes me. I don't feel bored around you."

Mariah broke eye contact and didn't have anything to say. What could she say? She believed him? She knows what the feels like? She refused to believe it was that simple.

She tried to change the subject, "So what's your take on Lindsay Lohan? Or Paris Hilton?"

She slightly rolled her eyes. This was the best she could come up with?!

JC threw his head back, laughing, "Yeah… I never cared much about those girls."

Mariah folded her arm matter-of-factly, "Well, its important. You should have read the last US Weekly."

"Maybe I should have."

Mariah made a clucking sound with her tongue and gave a laugh, "I'm kidding. I don't care for shit like that."

"Figured, are you always this confusing?"

She rolled her eyes, "Uh, no. I was trying to make a joke. Obviously you don't know what that means."

"No, I do just fine. You're just unclear or you were bailing out on my previous question. I feel its number two." Josh rubbed his chin in thought.

He had her seized up. Got her right where he wanted her. She appeared vulnerable suddenly. He had this urge to just hold her. She looked a doll; a fragile one. One that needs to watched closely or else it'll be destroyed.

He wished he knew what she was thinking, feeling… He doesn't know anything about her, yet, she's a part of his life somehow. Maybe he'll never. But also, maybe she knows something he doesn't. All thoughts he considered.

Mariah's eye-lids closed in slits, "Well, you're wrong… on both counts. Why are you really here? What do you want?"

She really didn't want to get into it but she had to know. It was eating away at her like a virus.

Someone came bursting through the door before Josh could open his mouth. It was Darla and Mariah didn't really want to know what this was about.

Darla looked skeptical a little, "What's going on here?"

Did she actually think there was something going on? She's the slut.

Mariah rolled her eyes, standing up with her hands placed firmly on her hips. "Are you kidding? Absolutely nothing is going on here. He was just about to leave."

Mariah gestured to a shocked JC. It was his turn to speak, "Uh, I'm not leaving."

Darla held both hands up, yielding what was about to occur. "Mariah, don't talk to Josh like that, his family has been through enough. Show him some respect."

And she hasn't? "Mom, I've been through hell too. I really don't need this s hit pushed upon me now-"

"Watch it Mariah! Don't use curse words in front of guests." Darla stood firmly.

Mariah smirked, "Fine, I'll wait till they leave."

Darla sighed. When was her daughter going to learn anything? "Mariah, don't be like that. Respect people please." She looked back at Josh and gave small smile, "Joshua, sweetie, are you sure you don't want to come out with us? Peter and I don't mind."

Oddly, Mariah was kind hoping his answer was no, maybe she didn't want to feel truly alone now. Anybody was better than nobody.

She was afraid she might try it again. She waited for his answer which seemed to take forever and a day.