Rue had been in shit since she was a teenager: overdose, unsuccessful treatment, then overdose again, and all that other shit. But the most pathetic thing is that her relationship with her mother has deteriorated even more, whereas before she could turn a blind eye to Rue and her self-destruction, now she looks at her with disappointment rather than pity.

And here you are, kind of like Jesus, aren't you? Showing up at an anonymous meeting of addicts, reaching out to her, promising that everything would be okay and her life would start as a clean slate, leaving her old scribbles behind.

A grown woman who never mentioned how she ended up at the meeting. That's all she knows about you, at least for now.

Rue was like a lost puppy that went to the smell of a bone, she was in withdrawal, she was sick. You were just by your mere presence you triggered those damn maternal vibes, pat her on the head and tell her she wasn't full of shit.

She never changed her habit of going to you right after school to have a heart-to-heart talk and spill all her problems.

The heavy creak of the door gave away her presence as the tired expression of a downcast face showed from behind the doorway, you immediately rose from the couch, extending your hand to her. Not that she even gave it a second thought, immediately spitting you into a hug. "I'm fine, i wanted to share the news."

Rue mumbled into your shirt, clenching her fingers around your shoulders, her tired eyes clouded with bruises and her stomach rumbling irritably, reminding she that no food had been taken in two days. Damn it. "Got some food?" She raised her head, raising an eyebrow and looking at you with that melancholy expression.