It’s been exactly two weeks since Kelsey woke up.

I haven’t visited her, phoned to find out how she’s doing, or even asked. I only know that she got home two days ago because Eve called me. However, as reassuring and terrifying as it is knowing; I wish I didn’t.

“Tyson,” I whine as I walk into the living room. He’s holding something, obviously getting into my stuff and wrecking it. When he doesn’t listen, I trudge over and bend down to pry it from his hands when I gasp. “How the hell…?” I mutter, snatching the small baggy from his hands.

I stare at the meth in my hands and try to understand what happened. I completely forgot about it and left it under the couch where a toddler, my toddler to be exact, got a hold of it. I mentally slap myself and start jogging towards my bedroom. I slam the bag of drugs in my bedside nightstand and walk back into the living room.

“It was my fault,” I mumble to Tyson as I slump onto the couch. I drop my head into my hands and rub my eyes, wondering how I could have been so stupid to let this happen. I feel small, chubby hands hugging my legs and when I peek out from my fingers, I see Tyson attempting to hug me. “I’m sorry I’m not good enough,” I tell him, picking him up and placing him on my lap. He gurgles and smiles up at me just as my phone vibrates on the couch beside me.

I reach for it but Tyson beats me to it, trying to stick the cell phone in his mouth like its candy.

“Tyson,” I protest, trying to wrestle the phone from him. “Give me it!” He makes a sad face as I finally free it from his hands and press answer before looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Oh, Fallon,” someone sobs on the other end. It’s a girl who’s crying hysterically.

“Who is this?” I ask, hoping they can hear me over the sound of their heavy breathing. They don’t respond as Tyson starts to reach for the cell phone again, fighting me for it. For a toddler, he really doesn’t want to give up. “Tyson, stop,” I groan, pushing his hands away from me.

“You’re with Tyson?” She sighs, and then starts sobbing again at the name.

“Kelsey?” I ask quietly, afraid that it’s actually her. I had been thinking about what I would say to her the next time I saw or talked her, but I never expected the conversation to be like this.

“Oh, Fallon,” she cries. “I really messed up. I messed up bad.”

“What are you talking about, Kelsey?” I ask, my fear starting to take over. After what just had happened with her overdose, I’m nowhere near ready to deal with her making another huge mistake again. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. “Messed up how?”

“By leaving you and Tyson!” She yells into the phone. I move it away from my ear as she starts balling on the other end. Again I have to pry Tyson’s hands away from me so he doesn’t start sticking the phone in his mouth.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I whisper, barely believing my own words. “It was the drugs. They took over everything you felt; everything you thought.” I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair. “It’s not your fault,” I repeat.

“How do I make everything okay again?” She asks softly. “How do I make things the way they were before?”

“Kelsey, you can’t.” She starts screaming at my words and I start to wonder where she is and if someone’s called the cops on her.

“Why not?”

“You’ve made your choices,” I explain. “You made your bed and now you have to lie in it.”

For a while neither of us speaks, and the only sound is the one’s Tyson is making in front of me or the crying of Kelsey on the other end. I have no idea how to react to her right now. I’ve never even dreamed of the day that Kelsey would realize she screwed up. Sure, I wanted it; and in a way, I still do. But I know how it feels to be addicted and it’s not something you quickly overcome. And in my eyes, it’s something that you never do.

“I want to be a better mother,” Kelsey whispers. As my eyes grow wide, I wonder if I imagined the quiet murmur; some old drug withdrawal symptom playing with my mind. “I want to be Tyson’s mother,” Kelsey repeats, and I know that I really heard her.

Deep, deep down, I know I should just hang up the phone right now, smash it on my kitchen floor and act like this never happened. But the small part of me that aches for Kelsey starts to light up again in hope that things will work out. That small, tiny, part, that I absolutely hate, even more than Kelsey herself, tells me to let her try. To let her be Tyson’s mother, whether she’s fit for the job or not.

“How long have you been sober?” I ask.

“Two weeks,” she replies, with the sound of hopefulness in her quiet voice.

“I’ll see you in a month.”

“I can’t do this, Erik,” I snap, pacing back and forth along our living room. Tyson is due in a little over a few weeks, and I still can’t stop the drugs. “I can’t give this up. Not right now. Not yet.”

“Fallon,” Erik sighs, grabbing my shoulders and stopping me. He doesn’t let go as he looks me sternly in my bloodshot eyes. “Just calm down. You know I don’t want you to either; but you have to. For Tyson. For Kelsey.”

I wrestle out of his grasp and take a firm step back, glaring at him. He knows how messed up I am right now; how much I want and need the drug.

“Erik,” I snarl, clenching my fists at my sides. “Give me the meth.”

Erik folds his arms across his chest and shakes his head no. “Man, you’ll thank me later. You need to stop.”

“Give me the meth,” I repeat sternly, taking a threatening step forward towards him. I’m shaking from the withdrawal and the tiny voices in my head won’t stop shouting at me to get the drug.

“No, Fallon.”

“I paid for it!” I shout, taking another step towards Erik. “It’s mine! Give me it!”

“Fallon, calm down!” Erik says, taking a step backwards. He holds his hands up in front of him, as if it would make me calm down.

“I’m having a baby in less than a month! My so-called girlfriend would rather be with meth than me! Cut me a break, Erik!”

“Fallon!” He yells, stopping me in my tracks. “You’re better than this!”

I watch my hands tremble in front of me, shaking uncontrollably. I wonder how I got here, from being an entitled, straight A student into a short-tempered drug addict. My legs collapse underneath me and I kneel on the ground, desperately trying to get myself to stop shaking.

“I need it,” I whisper. When Erik doesn’t respond, I scream as loud as I can. “I need it!”