Drip, drip drip. Drip, drip drip. Drip, drip drip.

The drops of water fall from the shower head in a waltz-like rhythm, splatting against the bottom of the tub with a splash that sends some of the water launching right into my right calf. I blink hard twice before lifting my head, swallowing to keep down what's left of the rest of my last meal. Whatever that was; whenever that was. The room's spinning as I struggle to keep my eyes focused on the leaking shower head, convinced that if I glare it long enough, it would fix itself and I wouldn't have to move an inch more. Of course that doesn't happen and the dripping continues, and in spite of the maddening sound I rest my head back against the back of the tub from whence it came and try to think back. Trying to remember just how I found myself in this position. All it takes is a look down at the shirt I have on, the front of which is covered in dried vomit that'll no doubt be a bitch and a half to get out in the wash. Oh well.

I shake my head and bring my hands up to my face. With my palms covering my eyes, I start to feel slightly better, the pounding in my head calming if only a little. The darkness soothes me, I guess. With less things drilling into my head, the less intense the throbbing becomes. Now, if only I could cover my ears at the same time; that dripping's going to drive me crazy. I try to shift my position, but none are as comfortable as the scrunched up one I'm in now, which really says something about this tub. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a chiropractor whenever I actually get out of here.

The bathroom door swings open and I hear footsteps crossing the threshold and coming closer to the tub and I. A calloused hand comes down gently on the top of my head and strokes my hair.

"You alright hun?" my dear old dad asks as I slowly remove my hands from my face. "You've been in here all night."

"Where, where am I?" I ask back, my voice coming out in a confused groan that's frightening in how accurate it is to how I'm feeling right about now. Though, it was a good question. Up until right now, I figured I was in my apartment. That any second Kara would be barging in, demanding I get the fuck out because she needed to piss and get ready for work. This, was kind of a nice twist though.

"You're home, where else would ya be?"

His voice is way too loud. I cringe and cover my ears, before letting my head lazily fall over to the side to face him. His eyes widen for a second before returning back to his normal, tired demeanor though I think he got the hint.

"How did I get here?"

"Ya called me last night, 'round three in the mornin'. Ya said you were drunk and didn't feel comfortable drivin' so I picked you up and brought ya back here. No way I was goin' to that shithole neighborhood you and yer girlfriend live in at that hour. Nosiree ma'am."

"Ugh, Kara's not my girlfriend, dad."

Though in a way she pretty much is. She's probably the only person I could ever see myself in an actual committed relationship with. One that lasts more than a week anyway, and one that isn't based solely on how well my significant other to be can provide for me like all the other short term relationships that end because I won't put out because nothing gets me off. Definitely not a physical level, because I've never found another human being attractive. Same goes for aliens that look like human beings. Or animals. But on an emotional level; she's the only one I feel comfortable sharing my feelings with.

And my little internal monologue gets cut off by my dad making an astute observation.

"Bloody hell dear, you sure didn't puke on yerself when I picked you up."

"Yeah, I guess that's why I ended up in here. Maybe I was trying to take a shower and I passed out."

"No. Ya decided to sleep in here instead of yer bedroom for some reason."

"Weird," I say, lowering my hands down to the bottom of the tub and trying to push myself upwards. My arms are shaky, ready to collapse under my weight when my dad slings his arm around my back and helps me up. On wobbly knees I stand, half afraid to lift either leg to step out of the tub. However, his hand on my back gives me enough confidence to take the first step. Left leg first, I stumble over the top of the tub and almost fall across the linoleum. Knees buckling with each step, I stop for a moment and check myself out in a mirror. And boy, what a mess I am. Hair absolutely, completely wild and all over. Makeup that I don't even know why I bothered putting on smeared all across my face; lipstick on my forehead, blush turning my lips a shade of burgundy. Or maybe that's dried blood. I'm in a puke stained T shirt and a flowery skirt that'd look garish to a hippie strung out on LSD. If that isn't an accurate metaphor for my life, I don't know what is.

"Take off that filthy shirt, I'll wash it fer ya."

I do as he says; taking off the shirt and tossing it behind me, into the hamper.

"Jesus Christ! Ya couldn't 'a warned me that ya were naked under that could ya?" he asks, turning his head to face the wall. I look down, oh my! It appears I forgot my bra. On second thought, I really should've felt that.

"Whoops," I say with a chuckle, covering my breasts with my arm.

"Just, head to yer room or somethin'. You remember where that is, don't ya?"

"Yeah," I say, turning to leave the bathroom but something stops me from moving too far. "Wait a second, question."

"What?"

"Did you and mom get back together?"

"No! 'Course not! Crazy broad and I, could never work out. Ever!"

"Good. Because last time I saw mom she said you two were trying to work things out."

"Oh we tried. For all 'a twenty seconds 'fore she went all psycho bitch on me."

"Hasn't changed a bit," I say, walking out the door. "I'm gonna go to bed."

Well, that was at least part true. I was going to bed. Not too sure about going to sleep though. I steal a glance backwards at him as I make my way out of the bathroom, catching the look on his face just before I turn the corner. I'm glad I caught it in passing, that fucking glare. It says it all; he looks at me and sees my mom.

"I'm nothing like her," I say as I continue down the hall, not bothering to wait for a response. Shaking my head, I fall against the wall and try to remember the layout. Come on, I haven't gone so long without setting foot in here that I've actually forgotten, have I? No, of course not. It has to be the hangover. I hang my head, looking down at the hardwood hallway floor as I hear a set of footsteps coming closer to me from the direction opposite the bathroom. Then, a woman's voice; frantic, confused, angry.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Sighing, though in actuality it came out sounding more like a snarl than anything else completely free of any input from myself, I look up at her with my best shit eating grin and start to laugh. Wiping away a stray tear that formed as a result of my outburst, I sigh and rest my free arm against the wall.

"Kendall Savannah Sawyer-- yeah Kendall Savannah Sawyer. At your service," I say, pulling my free arm away from the wall and sticking it out to her, in the process falling against said wall and bumping my shoulder against the cold Plaster of Paris. She looks down at my hand with brows furrowed and eyes questioning the gesture, before ultimately shaking it.

"Kendall Savannah... You're Max's sister, aren't ya? The wrestler?"

"One in the sa-- wait a second he knows I'm a wrestler or is that just something you know?"

I bet she's real glad she didn't bother changing facial expressions from the time she grabbed my hand until now. She'd be flip flopping back and forth until her face became permanently stuck in some odd combination of bitchy and mentally deficient. Granted I'm pretty sure she's probably already there, considering the fact that she's likely here to see Max of all people and anyone who willingly seeks out his company is not someone I'd ever consider in a sound state of mind. Kind of hypocritical coming from the alcoholic manic depressive who willingly subjects herself to sleep paralysis, but valid nonetheless.

"It's kind of a hard secret to keep. Sheesh for someone who acts like such a smart bitch, you're kind of stupid."

"Not stupid. Hungover. There's a difference."

"Right, the difference being normal stupid wouldn't walk around their parent's house topless?"

"Fuck off, whatever your name is," I say as I walk past her and ever closer to my room.

"Whatever, bitch."

I could turn around. I could turn around and slam her face into the wall over and over again, until the cartridge in her nose poked through the skin and her teeth laid in a perfect little line at her feet. Blood would stain the wall. I could do it if I wanted to, and right now I really, really want to. Just as I start to spin around on my heel to come at her, I find myself subconsciously grabbing onto my bedroom's doorframe. Reluctantly, I pull myself into my bedroom and push the door shut ahead of me. When I turn around, I see something, I really didn't see coming.

Azrael Erebus, sitting on my bed.

So, like any normal person would react when faced with their coworker who also harbors a very obvious crush on them, and has the ability to teleport anywhere on a whim would do, I jump backwards right into my door. Luckily, or unluckily, the door's a lot stronger than I expected it to be, and I end up smacking back first into the thing, which knocks all the air out of me. And as I fall over to one side, gasping rather futilely for air, Azrael starts to talk, well laugh but there's something off about his voice.

"Hahahahaha, surprised?"

Well, there's the problem. He sounds, just like, Kara. I swear if this is some kind of Freudian trick or something.

"Don't worry, it isn't."

"Wait, h-how did you ans-answer that," I say, still trying to suck in air.

"Oh, right. You didn't fuckin' know that did you?"

"Know, what?"

"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all."

I blink once, and when my eyesight returns to me I see, sitting in Azrael's place; Kara. Only with Azrael's voice.

"Now you're getting it!"

I start to stand up, and for some reason walk toward the shapeshifting, voice swapping thing in front of me because that's the smart thing to do.

"Yes, come closer. There's something you need to see, anyway."

I look down at the monstrosity to see it's wearing Azrael's head on Kara's body. As my thigh runs into the mattress for the first time, I stumble right over it and fall face first into bed. On my fall however, I notice something. I'm falling through the abomination's body. However, I don't have much time to ponder this as it fades away from existence I presume, and as soon as I hit the mattress; I'm out. Like a light.

Took me long enough.