My back against my bathroom door, my knuckles as red and stinging as my forearms thanks to my own fingernails, the words play over and over in my head: Your case might just be fucked up.

And it's all my fault.

Once again, I've ruined everything, and this time not even Gerard can deny it. He can't swoop in and save the day this time by throwing around reassuring words and aesthetic Tumblr post-worthy quotes.

And he has nothing to apologize. The flooding of texts he's sending me doing just that are worthless and the constant buzzing of my phone on the floor is beginning to get on my nerves.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you Eve."

"Please come back."

"You still have a solid case I shouldn't have said that."

But he did. He did say that. And he did yell at me. There was genuine frustration— I dare say anger— toward me flashing in his eyes. I'm surprised I didn't spiral into a panic attack then and there.

I clean up the cuts littering my arms and pull my sleeves down to my fingertips. When I finally unlock my bathroom door after shoving my phone into my pocket, my room is no longer being flooded by any natural light. It's dark out. I was in there for a long time. I didn't even try to stop myself from tearing my skin to shreds, the feeling being pumped through my body like a drug to temporarily forget everything that had just gone down.

The darkness outside also tells me that I've skipped dinner.

After combing through my hair a few times, I push open my bedroom door painfully slowly to avoid drawing any attention to myself. But, alas, the first creak on the staircase sends Gerard just about flying out of his office.

"Eve," he says, breathless, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I state without turning to face him. I continue on my way to the kitchen. "But why do you care?"

I hear his footsteps on the stairs behind me. "I'm so sorry I yelled at you, okay? I shouldn't have done that. None of what happened is your fault."

"Don't lie," I say casually, opening the fridge as soon as I enter the kitchen and searching for something to eat. "You already said it yourself, my case is fucked up. That's my fault."

"Eve, please listen to me, you didn't do anything wrong. If anyone's to blame it's me."

Somehow, Gerard blaming himself makes my blood boil. Can't he see how that doesn't help? How it's just a plain lie? How everything most definitely is my fault and always has been? Starting from the very beginning. If I hadn't been such of a hassle as a child my mother wouldn't have given me up in the first place and I wouldn't be the burden I am today.

I slam the fridge door and everything inside rattles. "That doesn't even make sense! Quit blaming yourself for my stupid mistakes like you always do. I know you blame yourself for not noticing how sick I was when I was fourteen, but that's not your fault. And you blame yourself for how shitty I've been feeling recently because you're always busy, but that's not your fault either. And you can't blame yourself for my court case falling apart either, because that's on me. It's all on me, it always is!"

"But, Eve, it's not—"

"No, don't even try. You always say the same things. You always try and make me feel better, and sure, it works for a little while, but I always go and fuck something else up. So save your breath this time."

I charge out of the kitchen and toward the front door without having grabbed anything from the fridge, but I'll deal with that later. I'm already pulling my shoes on by the time Gerard catches up with me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks.

When I look up at him in notice how tired he seems. How he's paler than usual, how his hair needs a re-dye, and how he's holding himself up against the wall.

But I don't feel an ounce of remorse.

"Mikey's," I put simply.

I take one of my jackets off a hook on the wall and Gerard tries to take it from my hands. "You're not leaving, Evelyn, especially not on your own in the dark."

With a new surge of anger, I yank the jacket from his hands and put it on, zipping it up to my chin. "I'll call him and he'll pick me up then. Bye." And at that I'm out the door.

I guess a part of me was hoping Gerard would try and stop me, but he doesn't. Am I really surprised? No. Did I really think he cared that much? I guess I never have. I guess I've just never believed that someone could ever care about me and never let me go or abandon me. I've never really believed that that was even a possibility.

Despite it being March, it's still cold. I can still see my breath as I walk and I stick my hands deep into my pockets.

I put a good amount of distance between me and the house, thinking about nothing but the fact that I'm a horrible daughter, and about how I really do ruin everything, and just keep running from my mistakes, when it hits me that I'm supposed to be calling Mikey. The next thing that hits me is that I'm no longer even walking in the direction of his place.

"Evelyn, you idiot," I mumble out loud to myself.

I look around, the street that I find myself on looking familiar, though I'm not quite sure why. Everything looks different in the dark, more suffocating, and so much more lonely.

I collapse onto a bench on the corner of the street. Maybe I should just stay here. I could sit here all night.

With my knees drawn to my chest, I spend many minutes debating over what I should do next until I hear a car rush by. 'Course, they've been going by every so often, but what's different about this one is that the brakes then screech. Whoever's driving parks on the curb with concerning speed. Startled, I immediately jump up from my place on the bench just as quickly. The streetlight above me seems to be broken so I have no way of seeing the figure who's just gotten out of their car and started walking towards me.

My heart begins beating out of my chest, my stomach turning, but I can't get myself to move my feet. The only part of me that's moving is my hands that are trembling at my sides.

"Evelyn? Is that you?" the voice asks.

It's just Ray.

I breathe a sigh of relief, the cold night air filling my lungs. Still, my voice breaks. "Ray?"

"It's just me, Eve."

I immediately collapse onto my knees. They sting thanks to their impact with the ground. But I couldn't keep it together any longer.

Ray runs over to me when I start sobbing. "Oh my god, are you okay?" He crouches down next to me. "Of course you're not, what am I saying?"

"I w-was g-going to... and I-I... wrong w-way," I choke out.

"Slow down, Eve, takes some breaths," Ray says, rubbing my back. It takes a lot of self control not to shove him off of me.

Every healthy coping mechanism I ever learned has been erased from my mind, replaced with the overwhelming urge to destroy myself. But I can't. Not here, not now. No one can know. I've been sneaking around for weeks, 'cause it doesn't take much to cover up cuts.

"I can't," I gasp. "I can't t-take breaths!"

"What does Gerard do when this happens?" he asks himself more than me.

At the mention of Gerard, a fresh wave of tears hits me. "I-I just wanted to go to M-Mikey's!" I wail.

"Okay, alright, let's go to Mikey's." Ray helps me up off the ground. The knees of my pants are full of dirt, but I don't bother brushing them off. "Here, get in, Eve, you must be cold." He opens the passenger door for me, and I pretty much fall in, narrowly missing a pizza box that's sitting on the seat.

Ray runs around the front of the car and gets in the driver's side. "Sorry about that," he says, taking the box and moving it to the back. "I was just picking up a pizza for Christa and I for a late dinner."

I buckle up and focus on relearning how to breathe as he pulls back into the road. He drives a little until he finds a spot to turn around.

"Are you a little better now?" he asks a couple minutes later.

I wipe my eyes with my sleeves. "I guess so." My voice is hoarse.

"How did you get on Oak Street, Eve?"

"Went the wrong way," I mumble with a shrug.

"You really went the wrong way if you were trying to get to Mikey's."

"I wasn't thinking about where I was going, really."

Ray is silent for a few moments. He seems to be going back and forth on something in his head, then finally settles on asking, "Why'd you leave home so late?"

"Gerard yelled at me and then I yelled at him. It's all my fault, though, but then I just locked myself in my room and I didn't even have dinner. And then I just decided to run away from my problems." The words spill out of my mouth without me meaning them to. "Gee doesn't care, though, he didn't even try and stop me."

Now Ray sits in stunned silence. "Have some pizza," he finally says.

"No, no that's yours, I can't—"

"Eve." His voice comes out more sternly than I could imagine Ray Toro ever sounding. I scramble to grab the pizza box. When I open it, the heavenly scent of cheese pizza fills the car and I realize how hungry I am.

A slice of pizza later, I look up to see that we're not parked outside Mikey's house, but mine. I almost start crying again. "Ray, I was trying to get away from here."

"That's not gonna fix anything, you know that." When I don't say anything he sighs. "I'll come in with you, if you want?"

In the end, it takes a couple minutes of coaxing, but we make our way into the house. It's getting pretty late, but Gerard appears in the hallway as soon as Ray opens the front door. He has a look of relief on his face when he sees that I'm standing there, too.

"I was getting so worried, Eve, Mikey told me you didn't call him or anything, I didn't know where you coulda been!" He turns to Ray. "Thanks, man, for finding her."

"I was just driving by and happened to see her," he replies. "I think you guys have a lot to talk about."

I don't want to, though. I want to go up to my room and pretend like tonight never happened. Like I didn't just have a complete breakdown, and like my case is still solid and I'll never have to see my mother again.