This time though, she wasn't herself anymore. But the feeling still got to her. It was Danica's fight, but Mera was stuck living it and dealing with it. The thoughts would be easy to push away had she not been invested enough in the red head. But she lived her life, seen it through her eyes; she couldn't just shut it off. She avoided it, she didn't take liberties anymore. One time Mera left a note, that resulted in Danica having no communication and her feeling lost. It was a good thing she had her red haired friend to knock her out of it and keep her afloat.

Now they were different, it was always going to be different now. But there was an acceptance to it. She was getting more and more used to the friend zone and was getting comfortable in her role. But it was the time of year. Christmas is for the kids they say. Adults make Christmas experiences for their next generation. Her memories of Christmas, when she was a child were good. She remembered feeling loved, what it felt like to be safe and comfortable in knowing she was cared for. Her past seemed so colorful compared to her current state of mind.

Now it felt dark and like there was a blue cast over everything. Throw in some cheesy music and she could swear her thoughts were a scenario from a nineties rock band. There was a void and it came down to him. The thought of what he would be getting this year, what he could have gotten this year. He was engrained in her head as a small boy, he would never grow up in her head, but truth be told he would be sixteen. Talks of college would be happening soon, what sports would he be into? What kind of friends would he have? Would he have the loyalty and drive his father had? Would he be unstable like her? Would he even like her? It felt lately that nobody in her life really liked her, but she wasn't so far gone to believe it to be anything more than a feeling the depression was trying to play in her brain.

No matter realizing her own mortality, he was still a little boy in her head. He had such blonde, curly hair. His eyes were blue and wide. He had such wonder and curiosity about the world. He would run on the beach and pick up a shell, put it to his ear and hear the ocean and call her and Arthur over to listen and be involved in the amazement. He would still call her mommy and not be scared to give her hugs and kisses. He would be silly and refuse to go to sleep without a story from Arthur and to be tickled mercilessly. He would laugh often and make them realize how they could still know happiness. But these dreams were not real. She would wake up in her bed, in the dark silence and be completely alone.

However tonight was different. Usually she had happy dreams about the man she was legally married to and their son. Tonight she woke up, it was however not her apartment or his houseboat. It was a new surrounding but yet it still felt like home. There were no lights and yet she could see perfectly clear. It was silent, the dogs were downstairs, as they didn't sleep with her and Arthur. She walked down this hall, no open doors but only one drew her closer. Touching the handle it was oddly cold, the house was warm.

Turning the handle regardless she sees an empty, pitch-black room. In the middle appears a chair; walking to it she sits down. Next a crib comes into focus and there is Arthur. He is holding a blanket in his arms as if there is a baby. There is crying, screaming coming from the blanket. He stares at her with disgust and hatred, passes her the bundle, but it is empty. “As if I would trust you with our son.” He scoffed as he walked around, picking up the crib as if it was an empty box and threw it against the wall in the darkness; the crib shattered into a million pieces.

She jumps but doesn't move. Arthur circles her, staring at her as if she had done the unspeakable. “Did you think I could look at you the same way again? Did you think I was going to love you? What the fuck did you think writing me a letter was going to do?” He laughed with a scoffed undertone. “That you'd wait for me like a love sick puppy who's been kicked and beaten?” Shaking his head he stops in front of her. In a blink of an eye the chair is leaned back, the two front legs off the ground and he is leaned over her, their noses just inches from touching. His eyes are cold, void of any sympathy, happiness or anything other than anger.

Her eyes scan his quickly. Her heart is pounding with nothing holding her up other than the two back legs of the chair and Arthur's strength.

“Do you think I could ever love you? You're pathetic and clingy. You live for me, but not even for a single second do I think about you. You're a chore. Do you think I enjoy letting you sleep in my bed? Cook you bacon in the fucking morning? I can't fuck anyone, I can't move on and have a fucking life because you're suffocating me.”

His jaw clenches as his eyes look her over, as if she is the lowest piece of scum he's ever had to be in the same room with. “You couldn't even be a mother to our son.”

He smirked then let go, the chair falling back into the darkness.