Chapter 13

The next few weeks were a disappointment to the Adams. Litt increasingly got worse. Not only just in her actions, but in her behavior and attitude as well. Everything inside her was pulling her down, and she was becoming more and more depressed. The Adams had tried everything from anger to sympathy to get her to open up, but nothing worked. One day while Litt was at school, Tracy had gone through her room hoping to find some sort of clue to unlock all the things Litt kept hidden so deep.

She hit the jackpot when she found a notebook filled with journal entries. She felt extremely bad going through it--especially when it had just been laying on the desk. When she opened it, a piece of paper that was folded in half fell out. Tracy frowned at it, and picked it up. She unfolded it and found it was dated two days ago. It read:

September 25, 1993 I'm feeling worse and worse as the days progress, and I find that I can't snap myself out of it anymore. That kind of scares me, but I'm beginning not to care anymore. I'm beginning not to care about anything anymore. It's as if my heart has gone cold...but I don't know how to warm it back up. Brian tries his best to help me, even though he has no idea why I'm like this. No one does, and that's my problem. I miss Amber so much. I miss being able to talk to her, I miss her advice, I miss being able to help HER in return. I don't know what to do anymore, but I don't want this. I hate my life, even worse than how it was back in Phoenix. If I could, I would go back and change things around...although that's not going to happen. Maybe this wasn't meant to be. Maybe everyone's lives would be better off without me in them. Maybe it's time to let go.

Tracy couldn't believe what she had just read. She let the paper fall from her shaky hand and brought a hand to her quivering mouth. "A-a suicide letter...?" she whispered. "It's worse than I thought."

She looked around the disaster of a room, trying to figure out what to do. She stared down at the piece of paper at her feet. She knew that if she showed it to Litt, she would probably run away. Tracy grabbed it and stumbled down the stairs. She picked up the phone and dialed her husband's work number.

"Hun, you need to take off early..." her voice cracked.

"Trac, what's the matter?" Bill asked worriedly.

"It's Litt...I-I found something...you need to come home. Now."

"Alright, alright. I'll be there in a few," he assured her and then hung up the phone.

********
Litt arrived home that day from school with fresh wounds. She had a bloody nose, a split lip, along with various bruises elsewhere on her body. The feeling gave her flashbacks to her life back in Arizona, but to her, that was almost comforting. She had gotten into a fight after school. Some guys she used to have run ins with back in Phoenix had surprised her at the bus. She had left Brian to go home on his own, while she took a "walk" with the fellas. it ended up being a huge brawl, and she was surprised she had walked away in the condition that she was in. She knew that she was in for it now. No more chances, she had blown them all. She'd be going back to the facility, catching up with old inmates by the end of the week.

Litt trudged down the sidewalk, trailing blood behind her. She could hardly feel the knife wound in her leg, that's how numb she was feeling. As she walked along, she wondered why she was going back to the house instead of running away. She didn't think she could live much longer anyway, everything was too much for her. She couldn't handle it anymore. But as she tried to come up with valid reasons why she should be going the other way, Brian's face kept forcing its way into her mind. As much was she tried to forget about him, her conscience wouldn't let her. Aw fuck, she thought to herself, resigned.

When the house came into view, she paused momentarily, weighing her choices carefully. Noticing Brian's beat up old car in the driveway awakened her heart slightly, and yet filled her with a sense of dread as well. Bill's car was there too, and she could just picture them all just sitting in the living room, waiting for her to walk through the door. IF she walked through the door.

Still filled with indecision, she began to once again advance towards the house. What the hell, she thought stubbornly. Might as well humor them.

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