“That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end.”

I re-read the line over and over just to try and allow it to sink in. It said and described so much in such a short amount of space that I was constantly trying to find the meaning in every word behind the sentence. It was pretty self-explanatory though.

I could barely concentrate however what with all the ruckus in the kitchen.

“Honestly Jane, I can't handle this anymore! You come into my home and accuse me of neglecting our daughter when you're the one who already did fucking neglect her!” My dad screeched at my mother, his voice so loud I had to cover my ears, dropping my book in the process.

After group this week, all I had wanted to do was sit down and relax but that was obviously not going to happen. I hadn't known that my mom would be coming over. If I had, I would've known better than to get my hopes up.

“Oh please, you're so selfish. Always have been and always will be!”

“Says the woman who cheated on me and then moved away with her new boyfriend, taking everything with her!”

As always, they're having the exact same fight. They never can seem to be civil with each other. They can't agree on anything. It was frustrating beyond all reason and was the only constant thing they had in their lives. They always seemed to forget that I, however, was always there when it was happening.

“Just because you're jealous... of something you could never give me.”

“And what would that be Jane? A house? Money? Children?”

“Happiness.” There was a pause.

“Happiness? So why on earth did you bother marrying me? For my money?” He shouted, the vein protruding on his forehead. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was about to explode.

“YOU BARELY HAD A PENNY TO YOUR NAME!” She screeched back.

“So it was about money?” He continued.

“We would have had money if you weren't always drinking your life away!”

They continued shouting at each other.

How they had it in them, I didn't know. They'd been at it for nearly twenty minutes anyway so what was their motivation? What were they getting out of this? They were divorced. They had their own lives now. Why did they have to keep fighting?

My brain felt as though it were swelling and my ear drums about to explode from all the noise.

I was hurt, angry and extremely depressed. But most of all...I was embarrassed.

Really embarrassed.

“ENOUGH!”

They both turned, shocked and looked at me, as if they were only realising that I'd been sitting at the table the whole time. I slowly stood from my place, discarding my book and staring between them, exhausted and most certainly not relaxed.

“Enough.” I said again, only this time quietly. “Why do you have to keep doing this to each other? To me?”

“Dakota-” My mom interjected but I held my hand up, pleading for her to be quiet...just for a minute.

“You are getting no where. I don't even know what you guys are trying to achieve with this shouting match. With every shouting match that you have...please, enlighten me because I'm really trying here to understand.”

They looked at each other. Not in a 'I apologise' way but a 'look what you did' way.

“You do realise that you can be heard from the other end of the street? Let alone next door, where my friends live!” I continued.

“Friends?” My mother asked, her brows raised. I sighed.

Now would not be a good time to bring up the fact that I was close to Gerard.

At least, I think I was close to Gerard.

“I meant friend.” She didn't seem convinced. “Look, it doesn't matter...You might not give a crap about what people think of our situation but I do. I have to go to school and here, people seem to know everything about everyone.”

“I'm sorry Dakota...” My dad replied, taking a step towards me.

“But you're not! This is all I hear when I come home and you don't even live together anymore! Since moving here, I haven't felt relaxed in my own fucking home!”

“Language Dakota.” My mother scorned.

“My language?” I asked incredulously. “That's what you're picking up from what I'm saying?”

“Look, I'm sorry honey but this is adult talk-”

“You always talk like this in front of me! This is not adult talk! Adult talk is finances and mortgages and I don't know...not this! This is high school talk and I should know! I am at high school!”

“This is between your father and me.” My mother continued, her eyes warning me to not continue with my rant.

“You'll never listen to me, will you?” I asked, defeated.

“Maybe you should go to bed Dee.” My father said, his eyes soft. I stared at him a moment before I scoffed and ran a hand through my hair.

“Fine, whatever. I'll see you in the morning.”

Without so much as a goodbye, I left them to it and ran upstairs, slamming my bedroom door.

As soon as it was shut, they were shouting at each other again.

I couldn't believe them.

Not once do they realise what they're putting me through. I know they're in pain but...do they really have to show their distaste for each other when I'm there? They never did when Donnie was about.

This day was already awful as it was without them having another argument. I guess I should be thankful that Hugh wasn't here.

I probably would've been hit again.

School was rather uneventful apart from the fact poor Frank was shoved inside a locker again. Vee and I nearly had a full on fist fight with Monica and Jason was throwing stuff at Mikey in the cafeteria. So...maybe uneventful was the wrong word to use.

It was the norm.

Mikey went over to his grandma's again after school so I was hoping to see Gerard waiting outside for me like he had done before but there was no sign of him. I hadn't seen him since Tuesday.

He didn't show up to group either.

To say I was worried was an understatement. When I'd seen him on Tuesday, he wasn't really his 'normal' self (to an extent) and by the way he talks about group, it seemed to me that he never missed it.

I'd wanted to go over to his house, to make sure he was okay but I thought against it. He probably wasn't even home.

So instead, I came home, after an hour of aimless walking to find out my mom was coming over.

It was only half seven and I was already forced into my room because of those two...again.

As I do in any stressful situation, I took hold of my grandfathers jumper and prayed for all the pain to stop.

However...I'd resulted sadly into the second and most frequent option.

---

“What's your best memory...about Granny?” I asked, hugging my grandfather closer to me as we sat in his rocking chair by the fire, the rain hammering outside his window.

“Everything little one.” He replied with a short chuckle. “Even when we fought, I always had something good to remember.”

“I always remember how, even when she had company, she'd always made sure I was involved somehow. She made sure I was happy.”

“That's all she'll ever want for you know Dee. Even from heaven, she's looking down simply hoping that we'll be happy.” He replied, patting my arm.

“Are you happy?” I'd asked.

“Dakota?”

“I'm as happy as I can be. I'm sure glad you still come over, even if you're a whopping eleven years old!”

“I'll never be too old to come over.” I said as sincerely as an eleven year old could. “Even when I'm a hundred I'll still come and see you.”

“Dakota?”

“I'm always here little one.”

“Always.”

I was slowly rousing from my memory when I felt a shaking sensation hit my body. I screwed my eyes shut tighter, hoping I could return to the memory but it happened again.

“Go away.” I muttered, forcing myself deeper into the mattress.

“Dakota...”

I knew that voice.

I opened my eyes, slowly allowing myself to get used to the dim lighting in my room, then to find a swaying Gerard standing over my bed. I sat up quickly, looking up at him in disbelief. I hadn't seen him in nearly three days yet here he was in my room at...midnight.

“What are you doing here?” I asked confused, as I rubbed sleep out of my eye.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He sounded muffled as he continued to sway, nearly loosing his footing for a moment.

“Have you been drinking?” Was my automatic reply. He shrugged his shoulders lazily which meant yes. Great.

“How much?”

“Does it matter?” He asked, his eyes already half closing. I didn't reply. I felt uncomfortable around drunk Gerard.

“Can I?” He slurred.

“Can you what?” I snapped but he didn't seem to notice.

“Stay here.”

“Oh, right.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a deep breath. I nodded before I scooted towards the wall and lifted up the covers. It was always easier to not make snarky comments to a drunk person. I'd known because I'd had my fair share of fights with my dad when he came back from the pub. I just knew better now and that was to act as though I'd gone to bed.

I also didn't want to have to deal with the possibility of Gerard waking up my dad.

But, how on earth had he climbed up to my window drunk?

Once he'd removed his jacket and shoes, he climbed in beside me, sighing in content as he let the covers fall to his shoulders. As I lay on my side, I watched him. His eyes automatically closing once his head hit the pillow, his eye lashes then fluttering slightly. This wasn't like him. As much as I'd hated to admit it...I was extremely worried for Gerard. I'd vowed to not let myself feel anything for him but I couldn't help it. To know someone was in pain and to ignore it just wasn't me.

I wish I was cold and unfeeling of everything.

As drunk as he was, I still tried to get a small conversation out of him however.

“What's wrong Gerard?” I whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“A bad day is all Dee.” He replied, his exhaustion apparent.

“You weren't at group.”

“I didn't feel like talking about crap today.” I pursed my lips. I knew how he felt.

“Remember you said that you're always here for me?” I asked after a minute or so of silence. He hummed in response. “Well...I'm here for you too Gerard. Please don't forget that.”

“Is this a pity party?” He asked, using my own words against me, his eyes still closed.

“No.”

“Then like you said...why should you care?”

“I might be able to help-”

“Dakota, please. I'm too tired to talk right now.”

“Okay.” I half squeaked, retreating before I could upset him more than he already was.

“Goodnight then.”

He didn't reply.

Notes

Hey, I know it's a wee bit shorter than the other chapters but here you go! Hope you're all okay!