**************************Part 19*********************

"Buffy...hand me another beer," Willow said from the couch.

"You've got one in your hand," Buffy pointed out.

"I know that. I want another one," Willow replied, annoyed.

"Okay," Buffy said, opening the refrigerator, and handing Willow another beer when she came out of the kitchen. Buffy had sent Kevin over to her mother's, while the two girls decided to have a couple nights alone. Seeing Kevin, though Willow hated to admit it, only made her remember the bad times.

"Thank you," Willow said, opening up the new can of beer three seconds after she finished the last one. Buffy eyed her warily.

"Willow, I think you might want to slow down on that. It will only make you more depressed," Buffy advised, reaching across the living room table, so she could take the beer away from Willow. Willow smacked at her hand, and growled. Finishing off her third can of beer in 20 minutes, Willow burped, and set the empty can on the table.

"Can I have another?" Willow asked, her voice becoming somewhat disoriented.

"Sure, but I'm not going to get it for you," Buffy said with the intent on making Willow stop. Willow looked at her, confused at Buffy's sudden change of mood, then shook her head and stood up. Swaying dizzily, she made her way over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. Setting it on the kitchen table, she sat on a stool and opened it. Swinging her head back, she tilted the amber colored liquid to her mouth, and swallowed. Willow's eyes watered and her nose burned as her throat became accustomed to the new choice of beverage. Sniffing, she set the bottle down, and took a deep breath. She didn't understand why Buffy was so mad at her. Buffy was her best friend. She was supposed to be mad at Oz. Not her. A tear slid down her flushed cheeks, and she sniffed as her situation came back and hit her full force. She heard footsteps behind her, and she turned her head slightly to see Buffy in the doorway, looking at her pitifully.

"Am I that pathetic?" Willow asked. Buffy nodded, but said nothing. She was trying to be sympathetic, but she knew Willow was only making her situation worse. Willow's nose scrunched up and her eyes welled up in tears. She nodded her head, then turned around in her seat so she could take another swallow of the liquor. She held it to her mouth, and took about four swallows before setting it down again. Inwardly, she wanted Buffy to take the bottle away, or insist that she stop drinking. She wanted Buffy to handle all her problems. She wanted to blame Buffy for her problems and not herself. Turning around, she saw that Buffy was gone. Angry, Willow stood up and walked into the living room until she was three feet away from Buffy.

Buffy looked at her, disappointed.

"I thought you cared about me," Willow said. Buffy looked at her, and said in a soft voice...

"I do."

"Then why are you letting me do this to myself? WHY? If you don't want me to drink, then why did you get me another beer? Why did you let me drink more when you didn't want me to? Why did you let me keep Kevin a secret from Oz? Why...didn't you tell me what to do?" Willow asked.

"Because your problems shouldn't be my problems. You have the right to make your own decisions. I shouldn't be making them for you. I kept it a secret because you asked me to. I let you have another drink, because you wanted one. I love you Willow. You're my best friend, but you're never going to make things better for you until you understand that you are responsible for your own life. You can't expect others to make it okay. You can't expect Oz to come back, on his knees, begging you for forgiveness. You can't expect Oz to understand the reason you refused to tell him. You can't always expect me to be there to pick up the pieces."

"Oh...so you're saying, that I can drink as much as I want? You're saying that you really don't care about what I do? Well guess what?...Samantha cares more about me than you do. She wouldn't let me to this to myself. Samantha...." Willow said, but was soon interrupted by Buffy again.

"God damnit Willow! Grow up! You are 26 years old. You have a son, who needs you. He doesn't need me, he doesn't need Samantha. He needs you!!! He loves you, because your his mother,"

"Grow up? Grow up? Look at me Buffy. I am a grown up. I made it through 5 years of agony, on my own. Kevin is my son, and I love him. I'm his mother!" Willow replied, angrily.

"Then act like it! Just because you take care of him, doesn't mean you're a real mother. I'm sorry to say it to you Willow, but you weren't ready to be a mother. You're not going to be ready, until you understand that you're responsible for what you do. You live your own life. You have to know that. You make your own decisions. When you understand that, then you're a grown up. When you stop relying on others to do things that you're responsible for, then you're a grown up! Just because you move to New York, to be away from all your friends, and away from all your problems, does not make you a grown up! It's independence. It's knowing how to do the right thing without asking what other people think!" Buffy insisted, crying. She hated saying it, especially to Willow's face, but someone had to do it.

Willow's face registered the shock Buffy's words caused her. Willow's knees began to buckle, and she collapsed on the floor, shaking and shuddering. Her arms crossed over her stomach, and she started rocking herself back and forth, desperately trying to make that tight bad feeling in her stomach go away. Buffy knelt down on the ground, rubbing her friend's back, knowing that Willow needed it and she wouldn't mind. Willow looked up, with deep blue bags sagging under her eyes.

"I don't want to grow up," Willow said, crying. Slumping over, she buried her eyes into the carpet, willing everything that went wrong in her life to go right. "I hate this," Willow mumbled.

Buffy continued to rub her best friend's back.

"It's a bitch, I know," Buffy said, trying to lighten the mood. "But you're not going to get better until you do," Buffy said, stroking Willow's hair. Willow sat up, a thought coming to her head. Standing up, she walked to the kitchen. Buffy followed her.

Willow picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels, and walked over to the sink. Buffy stood in the doorway, unsure as to what Willow was doing. Willow lifted the bottle up, then threw it into the sink as hard as she could, causing thick glass to shatter everywhere. On the sink, on the floor, on the counter, and some small pieces made their way into her hair. She smiled at herself, then turned around, wiping away the drops of alchohol that landed on her face. She looked at Buffy, who was somewhat shocked, and started laughing when Buffy spoke up.

"You know...you could have given the rest to me," Buffy said, smiling. Willow smiled and walked over to Buffy, hugging her. Buffy hugged her back, then pulled away.

"I'm going to grow up," Willow said.

"Good. Could you start with taking a shower?" Buffy asked.

************************Back in LA***************************

"No, no, no, no, no!!!! Play it over again. You're not leaving this studio Oz, until you can play a decent chord," Jesse said, marking down something.

"What are you talking about? That was decent. What is your problem? I've been working my ass off for six months straight on this new album...the least you can do is give me a break."

"Oz...you've had three weeks to recover. I understand that you're angry with your girl...ex-girlfriend, but you really shouldn't have to take it out on your music. We are supposed to have both 'Justice' and the remake of 'American Woman' done by tonight. We haven't even recorded through the first verse of 'Justice'," Jesse said, shaking his hands for emphasis.

"I'm telling you right now that the last chord was decent," Oz said.

"It may have sounded decent to you, but I was kind of expecting it to be three octaves lower,"

"Well it's my music, and what I say goes," Oz replied.

"First of all, if you want this record to sell at all, you've got to listen to me. Okay? I'm the one paying for the equipment, the concerts, and I'm the one supplying the records, just so I can get a lousy 15 percent of that money that you make. Now I can stop that..I can cancel all of your concerts lined up for this March, but don't expect me to pay for that fancy guitar you've got in your hands. Don't expect me to pay your taxes towards that huge house you now officially own. Don't expect me to do anything. Until you can get over yourself, and move on in life, don't expect me to pay for something that's already damaged," Jesse said, walking away with a bunch of papers and a hot temper. Oz followed his retreating figure.

"Since when..." Oz hollered to get his friend's attention. "...do I rely on you to do anything? If you don't like the way I want to play my music, then fire me. I'll go find a new manager, who actually knows what he's talking about," Oz said to the man, who stopped at the sound of Oz's voice.

"I'll tell you what Oz. How about this? You don't come back until you're ready to come back," Jesse answered, turning around so he could walk into his office. Oz stared after him, confusion and anger written clearly across his face. Realizing he wasn't going to win this arguement, he grabbed his guitar and walked out the door, looking back only once at the building he used to call his dream job, his heaven.

*What makes him think any of this has to do with Willow? Why is he being such an ass? He's supposed to be my friend, and here he is, barking at me because he doesn't like the way I play my music anymore? Touchy much?* Oz thought, while racing down the highway at eighty miles per hour. He made it back to the cabin where he lived, in record time. He could smell his solution a mile a way. Liquor. The weather was a perfect setting for his mood. Rainy, grey skies, thunder, lightning. Maybe there would be an earthquake and it would swallow him whole.

He walked in the door, slammed it shut, then briskly walked down the steps to the wine cellar. Grabbing a bottle of Tequesa, and two cans of beer, he made his way up to the upstairs shower. That's what he needed. A nice hot bath and the nasty shit he prefered to call alcohol, was all he needed. Turning on the jacuzzi, he settled himself in front of one of the jets, and opened a beer. Chugging it down in less than two minutes, he set it aside, then opened up the large bottle of Tequesa. An image of Willow appeared in his head, and he took a huge swallow, willing the sight of her to go away. She started smiling at him and he scowled, and took another huge gulp, making his nose burn.

He hated her. He silently willed that she'd come down and find him so that he could scream at her. Give her a piece of his emotional side that no one had ever known him to express. Listen to her apologize to him, over and over again, and then still not forgive her. That's what he wanted. He took another swig of the amber colored liquid at the thought of how much she had ruined his life. It was her fault that he was a mess. Wasn't it? She did this to him.

There was no other way of putting it. She lied to him. She waited five years to tell him something. Something that he should have known five years ago. Damnit, he had a right to know. What was sad was that he hated her, because she made him hate himself. She brought out the demon he long thought was extinct.

What he hated the most was that he knew he was still going to have to talk to her. Whether he wanted to or not, he was half responsible now that he knew about the kid. He had a pretty good idea why she had come down. She was broke and she needed money. He wouldn't be surprised if the next week or so, there was an order for him to come to court. Lisa was right. She was just after his money. The thought stung him. Now that the bottle was gone, he decided to get out of the tub. Drying off with a soft white towel, he nearly went hay-wire at the feel of soft fluffy cotton rubbing against his neck. It reminded him too much of Willow. Throwing it down to the floor in disgust, he walked to his room and dressed himself in black boxers, and a white adidas flannel. His hair was now a raven blue. Flinging himself onto the bed, he turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the picture set on his dresser. There was that one picture which would haunt him for the rest of his life. That one picture taken just for him, given to no one else but him. No matter how much he hated her, that one picture would always make him forget. That's why he kept it there.

There she was, dressed in a long sky blue skirt with lime green and white floral patterns running all the way down to her feet. She wore a white shirt that ended at her waist, tiny slits on either side and the collar of the shirt exposed her creamy shoulders. Her smile was Angelic, her green eyes were radiant, and the lighting was just perfect. This picture, reminded him of their innocence. This picture reminded him of the day when everything went right. Everything.

He soon found himself falling asleep while looking at the face he once loved. The one he still loved, but just wasn't ready to admit to. He had to figure things out. Oh yes, he was angry. And he'd probably stay angry for a long time. But anger doesn't last forever. Only memories.

*Dreaming*:

"Daddy!!! Daddy!!!" Kevin hollered in the distance. Oz turned around, to see his son running at top speed towards him. Oz smiled and squatted down, opening his arms wide for his son. Kevin jumped into his arms, wrapping his arms around his father's neck.

"Hey kiddo. What have you been up to? Is that black dye I see in your hair...Oh god your mother is going to kill me," Oz said, running his long fingers through his sweaty hair.

"No she's not. She's the one who dyed it," Kevin said happily.

"Oh really? Great, now I get to kill your mother," Oz said sarcastically.

"What's this I hear? You're going to kill me?" Willow asked smiling.

"I was being sarcastic," Oz replied. Willow nodded, an awkward silence reigning through the air.

"So....how have you been?" Willow asked, a sad look sketched into her features.

"Great. Just great. The CD's really taking off," Oz said, a little to excited.

"That's great," Willow said, nodding her head slowly for emphasis.

"How is Greg?" Oz asked, a slight volume of menace creeping into his normally neautral voice. Willow's eyebrows went up at his suggestive tone. Oz did not like Greg. Not that she could blame him.

"He's fine. He's thinking about taking off for a little while so we can go to Paris," Willow said, a little less than enthused. Warning bells went off in Oz's head.

"Paris?" Oz asked, with a feeling of knowing dread in the pit of his stomach.

"Yeah. He didn't want to take Kevin, but I told him I wasn't sure," Willow said, looking at her feet.

"Well you know you can count on me for anything," Oz said, nodding his head in a hurry. Willow looked up at him, a look of serene happiness shining through her eyes.

"I know. I was just using Kevin as an excuse not to go. You know how I feel about going out of the country," Willow said. Oz nodded his head, thankfully.

"Do you think he is going to pop the question?" Oz asked.

"Well when he finds out that I'm pregnant...he might be a little more than excited," Willow said, a look of impending doom rushing across her pale features.

"Pregnant?" Oz asked, all the color draining from his face. Willow nodded her head, a tear running down her cheek. Oz stepped forward, enveloping her in a rigid hug. Running his hand through her now straight hair, he said the only thing he could think of. Instead of saying 'congratulations', or 'I'm so happy for you', he said "I'm sorry." Oz ran his hand up and down her back. "I'm so sorry," Oz confessed. Willow nodded her head knowingly. She knew the true meaning behind his words. She didn't want to marry Greg, and Oz sure as hell knew it. He was sweet, but he wasn't the kind of guy she wanted to live with for the rest of her life. Her guy was right in front of her, both holding and comforting her in the only way he knew how.

The honking of a horn, broke through the air, causing the two to drift apart.

"I've got to go. That's him. Take care of Kevin while I'm gone," Willow said, holding onto the doorknob and then closing it a little harder than anticipated. His vision began to blur, as he watched the car speed away.

End Dream:

Oz woke up in a sweaty heap, his heart racing faster than the earth spins. He blinked once, he blinked twice, then took a deep breath. Looking out towards the window he noticed it was dark outside. He looked at his clock which said two am. He looked over at the picture of Willow that he had come to adore so much, and sighed in relief. Lying back down, he struggled to fall asleep. No can do. The dream pounded in his head, mocking him with his own stupidity. *She wouldn't...would she?* Oz thought to himself. Then he remembered how angry he was at her, and pushed the thought away. "It's not up to me who she dates. I don't have any control over who she dates. She's free to date whoever she wants," Oz told himself. Pushing the covers up, he placed his feet on the cold tile floor, and made his way downstairs. When he made it to the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water, and swallowed two extra strength tylenols for his headache. He sat down on the comfortable couch, and relaxed his head against one of the pillows. More memories of Willow popped into his head. He wasn't angered any more at the thought of her. Instead, he was just calm, serene, and heartbroken. He silently promised himself that he would have a talk with Willow next time he was in SunnyDale. Which would probably be some time soon, and he was pretty sure she would still be there. Searching the room, he found his guitar, and silently plopped down on the couch again, the instrument cradled in his arms. A song ventured into his head.

Why do you do this to me?

Is pain pleasure for you?

What are you thinking?

Why did you do this to me?

I loved you

I gave you everything

I'd die for you

Would you die for me?

I love you

Do you love me?

I hate you

Do you hate me?

Why do you do this to me?

Is pain pleasure for you?

I gave you everything

Isn't that enough?

I'm heart broken

and you're the reason why

sometimes I want to kill you

sometimes I want you to kill me

Why do you do this to me

Is pain pleasure for you?

I'd rather be dead

Than be your slave

I'd rather be dead

than be your slave

but I'm not a coward

and I'll take your beatings

Why do you do this to me?

Is pain pleasure for you?

When is enough going to be enough

Are you finished yet?

Is it safe to go back?

Is it safe to stay?

Stop running away from me

stop being a coward

Why do you do this to me?

Is pain pleasure for you?

Is pain pleasure for you?

It took Oz a good two hours to get the lyrics right. By then he was well exhausted, and showing major symptoms of fatigue. The song rang through his ears the entire night, somehow erasing some of the stress, that he so lovingly called a migraine. He promised himself, that he'd go back to SunnyDale tomorrow. He wasn't waiting another five years to figure things out.

*********The next night***********

"Are you sure you're okay with this Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Of course. I know you're not feeling up to it, and I'd love to go to the zoo. Last time I was there, I was 16. Who knows...maybe the monkeys grew a foot," Buffy said. "I promise, I'll bring Kevin back in one piece. I won't drink while we are out, and I promise to be home before midnight."

"That gives you five hours. If he comes home with a bruise I'll kick your ass. Are we clear on this?"

"But what if he does it himself?" Buffy asked.

"Don't let him do anything stupid, and you'll have nothing to worry about," Willow replied in a menacing voice.

"Yes sir!!!" Buffy said in mock salute. Willow smiled at Buffy's sly attempt to calm her down. It was working slightly.

"Thank you. I needed that," Willow said, shaking her head in amazement.

"So what are you going to do while we are gone?" Buffy asked, putting on her jacket.

"I'll probably eat all the ice cream in the fridge, watch the Cartoon Network, order a pizza. Basically I'm going to obtain the diet Xander so lovingly lives with every day, and see if it helps with my depression," Willow answered, eating a Cheeto.

"Good luck. Oh..and word of advice...don't weigh yourself afterwards. You'll want to scream," Buffy said.

"I'll keep that in mind," Willow said, hugging Buffy. She waited for Buffy and Kevin to drive away in Buffy's van. She stepped inside, prepared to have a carefree evening all to herself. She leaped towards the kitchen, pulled out the two half gallons of 'Pecans, Prailenes, and Cream,' ice cream, and dug in. Reaching for the phone, she called in a Pepperoni and Onion pizza, and two baskets of garlic bread. She remembered doing this all the time with Xander when they were little. She too, used to have quite the appetite. She figured Xander got his from watching her eat. Turning on the TV, she flipped the channel to the Cartoon Network, where they were having a Tom and Jerry marathon all night long. She loved Tom and Jerry.

Twenty five minutes into the show, there was a knock on the door. Willow assumed it was the pizza man. Looking at her watch, she furrowed her brow in confusion. The pizza man was never this early. Maybe their service was getting better.

"Hold on. Let me get the money," Willow hollered. She put the TV on mute, and ran into the kitchen. Shuffling her way to the door, she nearly ran into the wall, because she was going so fast. Opening the door, she expected to see the pizza man, but instead did a double take when she saw Oz, standing in front of the doorway, a little more than impatient.

She blinked once, she blinked twice, then took a step back so that he could come in. Ducking his head, he made his way into the heated house. The air was warm, but there was a cold chill to it that said something was wrong. Willow eyed him warily. He just kept his eyes averted to the ground.

"Oz?" Willow asked. He looked up slowly to acknowledge her. Their eyes met, and Willow could see all the pain and anger she had caused him. She was speechless. He was here, but he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't screaming, he wasn't throwing things. He was lifeless.

Her mouth was open, but she wasn't saying anything. She was probably wondering why he was here. After all, he hadn't said anything. She was staring at him. He didn't like it when people stared at him. Taking a deep breath, he averted his gaze to the kitchen.

"You got anything to drink?" Oz asked in a straight voice.

"Yeah. It's in the kitchen," Willow said, nodding towards the open door. Oz made his way through the door, taking special care not to bump into his ex. He went for the familiar glass cabinet, and poured himself a glass of water. Chugging it down, as if it were an ordinary beer to him. He was obviously nervous. Willow was tired of this silence. For all she knew, Oz was just going to stand there and drink 20 gallons of water, go to the restroom, and then forget what he was going to say. Curiousity overwhelmed her.

"If you don't mind me asking...what are you doing here?" Willow asked quietly. Oz waited a moment before answering.

"I had a pretty good feeling that you'd be going back to New York sometime soon, and I wanted to get this out now, instead of waiting another five years to see you," Oz said, bitterly. Willow literally flinched at his cold voice. Maybe it was best for her to just keep her mouth shut. Yeah..that was a really good idea. Don't provoke him. He may be Oz, but she didn't want to take any chances. Especially when he hated her this much. Her heart swelled in her throat, and she forced herself to look at the kitchen floor. She wouldn't let him see her cry. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she ducked her head and went into the living room.

Oz watched her go through the motions. He knew her all to well. She'd never let him see her cry. Especially when he was the cause of it. Following her prone body back into the living room, he made a note to himself, telling him not to be so harsh on her. He came here to yell at her, of course, but he wasn't going to be the only one yelling. He hated that. It would only make him feel more guilty. She sat down on the couch, and rested her elbow on the side of the chair, using her hand to support her head. It was an instinctive defense mode she went into, when she was in a situation she couldn't handle. He came here to yell at her. She could tell that much. All she could do was brace herself for the blows. He paced around the room a few times, not necessarily sure as how to approach the subject. Taking a deep breath, he sat in a chair across from Willow.

"I have to know what happened," Oz said, out of nowhere. Willow looked up at him, confusion evident in her young features. "Why did you leave?" Oz clarified. She opened her mouth to speak, but she was too terrified that he'd bark at her the first moment she said anything.

"My parents told me that if I left you, they would leave you alone," Willow said, looking into her lap. Oz looked at her as if that weren't a good enough excuse. "My parents were the reason you never made it to Arizona. They promised me they would leave you alone, if I left you. They didn't expect me to leave for New York, but I told them that it was the only way." Willow admitted, somehow managing to keep her voice straight. "If I argued with them, they would have only made it worse for you," Willow said sadly. Silence reigned through the room. It was too quiet. She looked up to meet his eyes. They showed no sympathy.

"So, that gives you an excuse to run away to New York, have our son, and wait five years to tell me?" Oz asked angrily. Willow shook her head.

"No....it doesn't," Willow said bravely.

"Then why did you? Do you need money? Are you broke or something? Why did you wait until now, to tell me?" Oz asked.

"I don't know why I never told you. It was my fault. I was afraid, I was alone in New York, I didn't know what you thought of me, and I'm not broke. I don't want your money," Willow said, tears in her voice.

"Lousy excuse. You should have told me. I would have taken care of you. Yes..I was angry. I loved you God damnit, and you left me without telling me why. I didn't know what happened to you. I saw you leave on the bus and that was it. I never heard from you, or anything about you, especially after Buffy came back from New York!" Oz said angrily. "Why didn't you tell me?" Oz asked.

"Because I was too afraid that your reaction to the news would be the same reaction you had a week ago. I know...it was wrong for me to do that to you.....Oz...every second without you was hell. Kevin was a doll, but you have no idea how much I wanted you there. I loved you. I still love you," Willow said, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Oz's heart leaped at her confession, but he was convinced that she was just saying it so she could make him stop yelling at her.

"Give me one good reason why I should believe you," Oz demanded. Willow shook her head, not knowing what to say, or what to make him stop.

"Why should I even try!!! No matter what I do, no matter what I say, you're still going to bitch at me because I lied to you about having a son! You...actually thought that I came back to tell you because I wanted your money? Do you have any idea how sick and preverse that is? Did you really sink that low as to think that about me just so you could feel better about yourself? I told you...it's my fault. It's probably the worst mistake I've ever made in my entire life. What else do you want to hear Oz? I've told you I'm sorry, I admitted that I was wrong and that I had no right to do that to you. I told you I love you and I meant it, and still you hate me. What else do you want me to say? Did you just come here so you could yell at me? Demand that I explain things, and then tell me that I'm lying?"

"You don't have any right to yell at me. I'm not the one who screwed up! Yes, I came down here to yell at you. I thought maybe, if you told me the truth I wouldn't be so incredibly pissed at you. It doesn't work that way!!! I can't forgive you. No matter what you say, and nothing you do is going to change that," Oz said in a loud voice. Willow sat back on the couch, her eyes buried into her hands while shaking her head in denial. This couldn't be happening. From Oz's point of view she was in the most innocent state he had seen his entire life.

Oz's features softened slightly. He'd never seen her cry like that before. Her shoulders were shaking, and he wouldn't be surprised if she passed out. He'd be worried but he wouldn't be surprised. He didn't expect to feel sorry for her. He stood there while she cried.

Soon, her cries calmed and she was able to find her voice. She knew he was staring at her. She doubted if he would be worried about her. He was probably smiling in satisfaction. She sighed to herself in disgust.

"Are you done yet?" Willow asked quietly. Her voice startled him. He cleared his throat, then spoke in a whispy voice.

"Yeah," Oz said while looking at his feet. "I'm done," Oz clarified.

"I think you should leave then," Willow said softly. "It's not going to get any better for us, just standing here. I don't want to see you and you don't want to see me, so it's probably for the best," Willow confessed.

"You're right," Oz admitted quietly. Looking around the room for the door, he nodded and left. His heart never felt so dead in his life. He thought he would feel a little better knowing why she left, but now it only made him feel worse because he didn't want to believe her excuses. He was hoping more for a life or death situation or something like that. Not this. Not because her parents threatened his future at Arizona. He didn't want to know that she left because of him. Now he felt like it was his fault. Again!!!

The pizza man showed up three minutes later, not particularly concerned as to why the young lady was in so much distress. All he cared about was getting his money. She paid the man, then tossed the pizza into the fridge. She was too depressed to eat. She cleaned up the front room, then made her way up the stairs to her room where she could sleep and possibly have another nightmare that she was hoping wouldn't come.