It was one of those painful mornings when sitting up felt like ripping a limb from your body.
Most mornings were similar lately.
She tried in vain to rub the sleep from my eyes, haphazardly stepping over stuffed animals and teething rings in the hallway.
Nothing felt real, almost like she was in a dream, but the goosebumps that spread like wildfire across her skin as soon as she stepped onto the cold marble told her otherwise.
The bathroom mirror was clean, spotless even. Even with a newborn, Audrey found a way to keep the house in tip top shape. This annoyed her.
Exhausted was an understatement, she decided scrutinizing her ashen skin.
Her eyelids drooped, dark circles beneath her eyes.
Needless to say she wasn't sleeping. How was anyone supposed to sleep with so much to think about, really? Maybe she was an insomniac. Not that she cared, because she wouldn't sleep as an act of rebellion even if she could.
She inhaled the fragrant air through her nose before carefully placing the first of three pills on her tongue.
Leaning in to the running faucet she drank from it like a water fountain to swallow without choking. The chalky substance they left behind was bitter but at this point she hardly noticed it.
The house was vast and empty with everyone still asleep, and she crept down the polished dark wood staircase.
At the bottom of the stairs she scanned the perfect Pottery Barn magazine living room before ghosting her sock clad feet over the cool flirt on her way to the kitchen.
Only the dim fluorescent light of the refrigerator glowed as she rummaged through groceries, settling on milk because as she knew from experience, orange juice doesn't taste very good after brushing your teeth.
She drank straight from the carton and left it open on the white marble counter top. Only because she knew it would make Audrey mad.
And she would do anything to push her closer to the edge. It was one of the three things that made Andie feel alive.
That made her smile, or laugh, or cry.
Because making Audrey's life a living hell the same way she did Andie's is the only way she ever felt like she had any control.
"Good morning," She raised her hand in greeting and Andie remained motionless at the kitchen island. "I said good morning," Her voice reminded Andie of a dull razor. If you pressed hard enough you could draw blood.
"I heard you," She said as calmly as she could, trying to preoccupy herself with thoughts of the day ahead.
"I don't like your attitude," Audrey turned, her hands on her hips as she tried to assert the authority that she would never have. "And I'm tired of you talking to me like that. Like it or not I am your mother, and you live under my roof, so you will answer me when I say good morning."
Andie nodded in agreement before opening my mouth for one last word. "No."
Feeling only marginally triumphant, Andie set off to the bus stop.
She drew waves in the grey slush on the curb of the intersection as she waited for the bus.
Glancing sideways at the sound of wet footsteps, Andie watched him approach.
They were supposed to be working on a project for their English Lit class together, but they were both avoiding it.
He had his long hair tucked behind his ears, bright red from the cold air.
"Uh, hey," Harry spoke, his cheeks raised in a genuinely friendly smile. How funny, she thought, thinking of all the times that boy had been so incredibly rude to her she'd punched him. It had happened more than once.
Andie took a moment to sigh melodramatically before speaking. "Hi."
"We should probably start on that report, you know?" He laughed awkwardly and Andie snickered to herself- he looked so out of his element, talking to a girl like her.
"Yeah. Come by mine tonight to work after dinner?"
Harry's mouth hung agape for a few agonizingly slow moments after Andie spoke. "Really?"
She was really unpleasant, cynical, a horrible pain in the ass really, and Harry's surprise was pretty much a given.
"Yeah, whatever, now you can stop talking to me before someone sees us," Andie clenched her jaw, watching Harry forget about her presence in favor of other kids their age walking towards the bus.
School felt slow, thick with information to be re-learned later at home on Wikipedia and social interaction that Andie really would have been happier without.
"Andie! Andie Andie Andie!" Margot screeched running down the hallway in Andie's direction.
"Yes?" Her voice was hoarse from guttural moaning in annoyance one too many times that day.
"Nothing, I just wanted to get your attention." Margot knew well enough not to take Andie too seriously, and not to be put off by her horrible attitude.
"What could you possibly need, Margot, I want to go home," Andie reached over and took a few Peanut M&Ms out of her friend's hand.
"I dunno, I just was gonna ask if I could come over later, you know?" Margot's prominent eyebrows raised in anticipation.
"Uhm," Andie paused to think, her jaw slack and her eyes focused on the ceiling. "Wait no. Not today. Working on a project," Margot groaned, pulling away.
"Alright, well I'll see you later then," Andie gave a half assed salute and spun on her heel, eager to change out of her constricting skinny jeans.
It was like she could feel the life being sucked out of her like a vacuum storage bag. "Too much stuff, not enough space!" Andie wanted to scream so hard she'd cough her lungs right out of her chest, frostbitten with anger.
Dinner that night was held on the border of India and Pakistan; all weapons armed and ready. "Andie, how was school?" Her father made a truly pathetic effort to engage his sullen daughter in conversation.
Andie pretended not to hear.
"You see?" He raised his voice. "This is our problem. You. Your attitude." Andie bit her lip to refrain from erupting in a fit of laughter.
"You think it's funny?" Audrey chimed in over the sound of the baby playing with its food. "You think it's funny that after two years I'm still worried what my teenage step daughter thinks of me?"
"I mean it make sense. Girls our age often worry about what their peers think of them." Andie smiled reassuringly and continued eating.
"Andie we know you're angry, angry about your living situation among other things, but you can’t blame us."
Looking down at her plate full of food, Andie barely recognized the foreign feeling of tears welling up in her eyes. She could feel her heart begin to pick up; angry tears, full of resentment and year after year of surprising her thoughts for what? For her parents' peace of mind? To live happily in the original two- parent house she'd been born into? Too late for that, she decided, slamming her fork down on the brand new Restoration Hardware table.
"I think I can. Because guess what, Audrey?" Andie was standing, her fists trembling, threatening to do something if she couldn't get her point across verbally. "You ruined my life." Her words were weak and strangled, as they often sound when one is on the cusp of a hysterical melt down. "I was happy." Her father was half way to stopping her outburst when she said one more thing. "I don't even want to live anymore."
"Don't say that," He was beyond angry, infuriated. Her father was livid. "You're being unreasonable."
"No, you don't have to worry about it. When the cops find my body I'll leave a note." Andie felt like she was going to throw up, because the truth was, that she had thought about it before. Weighed the pros and cons even.
For a while, the thought of death was terrifying. The worse things got, after the cheating and the divorce, after Andie no longer felt any desire to live. She decided that dying would be easy- better.
It would be painless. She would overdose on prescription pain meds she bought behind a liquor store in town 2 miles from the high school. Andie hadn't planned on doing it that night, per say, but it was as good a time as any.
As she sat, her skin against the marble floor, Andie felt lonely, and as she tried to coax herself away from the cliff with happy memories of her childhood she was drawing blanks. For as long as she could remember, Andie had been alone. At the lunch table and eventually in the corner of the library when she grew tired of the humiliation. She sat alone on the bench outside of the gym countless times waiting for anyone to remember to pick her up three hours after baseball practice ended. She ate alone in the dark kitchen because her parents' marriage was at  the breaking point and the tension was too much for her. She sat alone in the back of the chapel at her father's wedding. She stood by herself at the stand, testifying in court as her parents battled for custody of her and her older brother.
She sat in isolation, her wavering hand wrapped around the yellow prescription bottle. Andie couldn't remember the last time somebody hugged her, or told her they loved her. She couldn't for the life of her think of any reason she had to live.
Still, as she thought it over and over again, her tear stained cheeks red and crinkled with concentration, Andie felt herself begin to crumble.
The flood gates she had been building and reinforcing all this time were dissipated to nothingness and the rush of emotion sent Andie down in tears. Horrible, big, loud tears. Andie couldn't control it any longer. Like a steaming teapot, Andie spewed pent up frustration in shrieking, and violent sobbing that shook her thin body.
It was a wonder Andie's father and Audrey didn't hear her, or at least were too uncomfortable to check on her.
His footsteps were quiet enough that she didn't hear them coming. Andie's long overdue wailing drowned out the sound of the boy with the long hair creaking open her bathroom floor.
From that moment on, Andie would never have to feel alone again.