Clay never thought it would ever come up again, but he sat in silence as his mom drove down to the pharmacy store. He hated it more than anything, because having to take medication to help made him feel weak. "Clay, I know you don't like this at all, but I think it'll help." His mom spoke, trying to break the noticable tension. Not getting a reply from her son, she sighed and searched for an open parking space as they pulled into the small parking lot.

"Why did we have to come to this pharmacy?" Clay asked as he and his mom made their way towards the building - Baker's Drug Store. "Because I've gone to the other pharmacy places already, and this is the only other store that sells drugs." His mom replied as they entered the store, gaining the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Baker as the bell above the door sounded. "Hi, Mrs. Jensen, Clay." Mr. Baker greeted politely. "Hi, Mr. Baker. Mrs. Baker." Clay's mom greeted back with a polite nod. "How can we help you two?" Mrs. Baker asked. Seeing how Clay was staying silent, his mom spoke again. "We're actually here to get a prescription filled." Clay's mom said as she placed the small peice of paper with a doctor's signature on the counter. Mr. Baker looked over the slip of paper before nodding and going to the back to locate the desired medication. "So, how's Hannah doing these days?" Mrs. Jensen asked, wanting to start a conversation instead of staying in the tense silence. "She's doing good, actually. Recovering fairly well. She seems a lot happier now, which is obviously a great thing." Mrs. Baker said with a small smile. "What about you? How are you doing, Clay?" Mrs. Baker asked, attempting to start a conversation with the usually-not-so-distant boy. "I'm doing ok, I guess." Clay said simply, not hiding his slightly miserable tone from anyone. "Yeah. He's doing pretty good too." Mrs. Jensen said, eyeing her son as he stared anywhere but at the two women talking.

Glancing over the shelves, something caught Clay's eye. Not saying anything, he slowly walked towards the shelf. As he got closer, he realised that what caught his attention was a small packet of razor blades - the same exact ones Hannah used to try to kill herself. Clay slowly reached over and grabbed the packet, looking it over with a dazed look in his eyes, the simple object bringing back bad memories. It was like Clay was back in the Baker's bathroom, helplessly watching the girl he loved sit still in the tub, staring blankly ahead.

"You could've done something." Came a voice. Clay looked around startled, before turning back to Hannah, seeing her now staring directly at him. "You could've done something to save me, but you didn't. You didn't stay when I needed you. You didn't care enough, just like everyone else. You killed me, Jensen. Now you have to live with the guilt for the rest of your life." Unable to find words, Clay watched as Hannah moved the razor closer to her arm. "I'm sorry, Hannah! I know I didn't stay that night at the party. I just left, like you had asked. I know I said some things I shouldn't have, believed the rumors when they weren't true, was too blind to see what was happening to you. I should've told you how I felt earlier on, but I was too much of a coward to say anything. I'm sorry I was too afraid to tell you that I loved you when you were alive." Clay said, not bothering to stop his tears from falling as he watched the girl slowly move the razor along her left arm, ignoring him as if he wasn't even there. He found himself not able to move as he watched her do the same to her other arm, lean back against the wall, and just let herself bleed to death. "I'm sorry." Clay spoke, the pleading look of a broken girl desperately asking, screaming out to be helped surpressed in his mind.

"Clay?" A deeply concerned voice asked, pulling Clay out of his thoughts. Clay quickly looked towards the source of the voice, being greeted by the deeply concerned looks of Mr. Baker, Mrs. Baker, his mom, and now Hannah. Clay then looked down at his hand, seeing a crumpled up packet of razors. He looked back up, looking directly at his mom. Picking up on the scared look, Mrs. Jensen waisted no time in pulling her son into a tight hug, to which he immidiately returned as he barried his head into her shoulder, not stopping the tears from falling. "Bad memory?" His mother quietly asked. Clay simply nodded his head in response, feeling his mothers grip tighten around him in an attempt to comfort him.

Clay appreciated the fact that no one was asking him questions about what had just happened. He was grateful when he felt three other pairs of arms wrap around him in an attempt to help comfort him. He knew that he'd have to tell them what happened, being as they witnessed an effect of his PTSD, but he knew that they knew he wasn't in the right state to talk about it, so they settled for attempting to help calm him down.

"You ok, Clay?" Mr. Baker asked as everyone slowly broke away from him, Hannah being a bit hesitant to do so. "Yeah, I think so." Clay said, swiftly whiping his tear stained face with his jacket sleeve as he placed the packet he was still holding back down on the shelf. "Sorry about that." He apologized while doing so. "Don't worry about it." Mr. Baker said understandingly with a small smile towards Clay.

After calming down and paying for what they had originally come for, Clay and his mom left the store in silence, neither sure of what to say. Clay was grateful for the silence as the drove home, because he didn't want to have to talk about what happened to him after seeing that simple object.

"Listen, I know you don't want to talk about it right now. And I completely understand that. But just know, anytime you do want to talk about something, your dad and I are always here to listen." Clay's mom spoke, stopping Clay from going upstairs to his room. Clay smiled a small smile to his mom. "Thanks, Mom. I'll keep that in mind when I want to talk about it." He said. Mrs. Jensen smiled up at her son as he continued up the stairs for the night, taking the small orange bottle of pills with him.

At the Baker house, Hannah and her parents were still concerned for Clay. "I've never seen him like that before." Mr. Baker said as the three sat at the table. "Yeah. That was worse than when he just froze up that first day you got out of the hospital." Mrs. Baker said, Hannah nodding in agreement with her mom. "It seemed like he was having a conversation too, the way he would just say the things he did. And whatever he was seeing must've been pretty hard for him too." Mr. Baker said. "Yeah. I guess it kind of makes since though. He told me the other day that the doctor he went to see had diagnosed him with PTSD." Hannah said, moving her gaze to the table. Her parent's shared a look of understanding. "I just hope he'll be ok." Hannah added quietly. "We all do." Mrs. Baker said, her husband nodding in agreement. "It's late. I think we should all head to bed." Mr. Baked said after catching a glimpse of the time. Hannah and his wife nodded in agreement as they stood from the table. Saying their good nights, Hannah headed up to her room.

She couldn't help but think about what happened earlier with Clay. She remembered how broken and pained he had looked. She remembered seeing how he gripped the packet in his hand as he was in a conversation with whatever he had seen that caused him to break down. Hannah wanted to ask him about it, to get some answers as to what he saw, but she knew now wasn't a good time to ask about it, since it was probably still fresh in his mind. Turning on her side, Hannah stared out her window at the dimmly lit street, thinking about what she had witnessed, and wishing that she could take that pain away from him all together. Slowly, Hannah closed her eyes and fell into darkness, letting sleep take over.