"You've been staring at the floor for an hour, Jake."

"Jake, you have to go to work."

"Jake, are you listening to me?"

"Look at me, Jake."

Mara's voice rolled over me. I finally glanced up at her.

"Jesus, you look like shit," she said disgusted, "Clean yourself up and get your ass to work."

"Why?"

"Because you have to go to work."

"Why?"

"Because I fucking told you to," she snapped, "And I have friends coming over and don't want them to see you."

I sighed. The bottle was empty in my hands. It had been for a few hours and the buzz was wearing off. I could get some more at work.

"Tell them I said hi," I mumbled and heaved myself up from the couch.

"Right, yeah, and I'll just go ahead and let them know what a piece of shit you are," she started picking up dishes and scraping off the caked-on food, "That you've gone through like five bottles of whiskey and vodka in the past three days. Great, I'm sure they'd love to hear that."

"So glad you care."

"You are such a fucking piece of shit. Fuck, I don't know what the hell I ever saw in you."

"Well, I saw my dick in you," I tossed her a smug grin, "That works for me."

She gave an exasperated scream.

"You know what, fuck you," she gripped a dish.

"Already did, sweetheart."

"You are such a fucking bastard," Mara heaved the plate at me. I moved and it shattered on the wall. "Fuck you. I fucking hate you. You worthless shit."

I shrugged.

"God, you are so self-centered. I don't give a shit about the fucking horrible fucking accident you had, so many people have had shit like that go down to. But for you, it's the end of your fucking life. You don't care about anyone else. Not your fucking sister who obviously needs you. Not your mother who obviously needs some serious help," she gripped a bowl tight in her hands.

My hands clenched.

"Oh yeah, you have nothing to fucking say to that, because you know it's fucking true. You are so self-consumed with your own problems you can't see the problems of others around you. God, you are such a fucking problem. I don't understand how you could just leave your family like that."

"Leave my family, what about you?"

"Oh please, I never loved my parents. Doing what I did was no problem. But you, Jesus, you. You fucking worshipped your dad, loved your mom and sister, and look at you now," she paused and shook her head, "You are so fucking messed up."

"Me? I didn't fucking send an innocent guy to jail."

She laughed.

"Really? Because it looks like you're stuck in a fucking prison and the walls just keep getting closer. You are so fucked up," she dropped the bowl on the counter and sighed, "I want you gone."

"What?"

"Yeah, that's what I want. I want you the fuck out of here."

"What? You can't just get rid of me like that."

"I just did. Now get your shit and get the fuck out," she went back to clearing dishes, "Don't bother coming back if you do..."

She trailed off and smiled. She didn't need to say it. I knew what she'd do. I still didn't want to leave.

"No, you can't fucking make me." I sounded like a child. I didn't care. I didn't want to leave. I had nowhere else to go.

She crossed her arms and looked at me, amused.

"I have nowhere else to go," I protested.

"I don't really give a shit. Go home, go live on the streets. I don't care," she sighed, bored. "Just get out."

"No." I crossed my own arms.

"Jake, if you don't fucking leave, I'm calling the cops right now," she smiled sweetly, "So get the fuck out."

I glared at her. There was no winning this one.

"If you hurry, you'll make it in time for work," she turned her back and continued to work on the dirty dishes.

I shot her in the back, right between her shoulder blades.

She continued to clean the bowls and plates and silverware. I shot her again, and again with my invisible gun. It was childish, stupid, but made me feel a tiny bit better. I'd go to work, drink, and come back and things would be fine. She would want me again. She had to want me again. I slammed the door when I left. The apartment wall vibrated.

My car was rusting away in its parking spot, the engine grated as it turned over and came to a shuddering rumble. Thankfully the drive to work was a quick one. I probably had no right to be driving, but no one would care. No one really cared about the people out here. Why would they?

Dale wasn't working the first shift. It was some other loser with greasy hair, acne spotted face, sagging jeans. He just nodded to me and left before I had even clocked in. I grabbed a bottle of a cheap-ass whiskey and poured myself a glass. And then another and another.

Mara would take me back. I knew she would.