This isn't weird.

Traffic

Tess gave the door a light warning knock before she turned the knob and pushed it ever so slightly ajar. "Hey, I'm home! Please don't be fucking on the couch or something!" she called. Stepping inside, she froze. "What the hell happened here?"

She saw Millie on her hands and knees, desperately scrubbing at a long trail of what was clearly blood that spread from the hallway to the entrance.

Millie looked as though she had crawled out of a nightmare. Her hair was in disarray, falling over her pale, stricken face as she hunched over the floor; her eyes were bloodshot and haggard. The stark, sickly whiteness of her complexion contrasted disturbingly against the deep purple bruises that ringed her neck and wrists. Cleaning supplies were scattered haphazardly around the apartment. Next to Millie was a bucket full of suds and rust colored water, bloodsoaked towels hanging over the sides. A few overturned bottles of peroxide and various cleaning fluids congregated around it. A fallen broom had been abandoned in the middle of the floor, a few feet away from an orphaned dustpan. The vacuum cleaner had been dragged into the hall, where it now stood next to two large black trash bags, knotted tightly closed.

She looked up at Tess with glassy red eyes. "I'll get it out," she blurted, her voice raspy and manic. "It will come out. I'll get it out. I promise." Her gaze fell back to the bloodstained carpet as she doubled her efforts at scrubbing.

"Millie, Millie, I don't care about the carpet!" Tess dropped down on her knees next to Millie, trying to look her in the face. "Is this your blood? Where did you get those bruises? Did Ben—"

"No!" Millie screeched before Tess could even finish the thought. She grabbed Tess's wrist and stared into her face intensely. "Ben didn't hurt me! Ben would never hurt me. He loves me. He would never hurt me. Never." She let go of Tess and continued furiously scouring the carpet, still mumbling, "He didn't hurt me. He loves me. He loves me."

"For the love of God, Millie, stop cleaning!" Tess exclaimed, snatching the wet rag from Millie's grasp. "Did you sleep last night? How long have you been awake?"

"No. I don't know. I have to get it out." Millie's eyes were blank as she attempted a grab for the stolen towel. She was too slow.

Tess held it out of her reach. "No, you don't! Stop. Look at me, Millie. What happened here?"

"Glass," Millie replied numbly. "I threw a tantrum. I broke everything. Glass everywhere. But I cleaned it up!" She pointed at the garbage bags in the hall. "Don't touch those. Glass."

"Is this Ben's blood, then? Where is he?" Tess asked.

"Ben would never hurt me," Millie said again, her tone defensive. "He loves me."

"Okay, yes. Obviously he loves you, we all know that. How did you get those bruises, Millie?"

"He didn't want to do it. I made him. He didn't want to. He didn't like it. He doesn't want to hurt me."

"Okay, okay, I get it. I think I get it. Got a little carried away with some kinky shit, left some marks, he wasn't into it. Did you get into a fight?"

"He didn't like it. It scared him."

"And the glass—he stepped on some glass?"

Millie's voice trembled. "He wouldn't let me help him."

Tess looked at the trail of blood stretching across the apartment. "He must have been pretty upset, huh?"

"He loves me," Millie repeated yet again. "Ben loves me. I love him back." Her delirious eyes became suddenly lucid, and filled with tears. "I waited too long to tell him, Tess. And now I have to leave. I can't fix it."

"Oh, Millie." Tess dropped the towel she was holding into the bucket and leaned forward to put her arms around Millie's shoulders. "What do you mean, you're leaving? Where are you going?"

"Home," Millie answered. "Texas. My sister tried to kill herself. Molly."

"Oh, shit." Tess sat back to look Millie in the face again. "Is she okay?"

"No." Millie shook her head. "She threw herself into traffic. Into fucking traffic, Tess."

"Holy shit."

"She has to get so many surgeries. Nobody else will take care of her."

"Wow, Millie. That's... really kind of you. You haven't spoken to her in years, have you?"

Millie shook her head. "Not since the funeral."

"Do you know what happened? Did her husband leave again?"

Millie nodded.

"Of course. Stupid question," Tess said bitterly. She had never met any of Millie's family, but they had been friends long enough for her to learn the broader details.

"For a fucking highschooler. He knocked up a fucking sixteen-year-old meth head."

"Jesus Christ." Tess blanched. "When do you have to leave?"

"Tonight."

"You're leaving tonight? Are you taking your car?"

"Yeah."

"Millie, you haven't slept in over a day. That's gotta be like, a twenty-four hour drive. You can't start driving tonight."

"I have to, Tess. They have her in a medically induced coma, but—I have to get there, or she'll wake up all alone."

Tess heaved a sigh. "Okay. Okay, Millie. I'm gonna go with you then. We can take turns driving. I'll catch a plane back."

"I can't ask you to do that for me, Tess."

"You're not asking. I'm telling you. You can't help your sister if you die in traffic. It's decided. Girls' road trip, bitch."

The tears that had been welling in Millie's eyes finally spilled down over her cheeks. "I love you," she sobbed, throwing her arms around Tess and clinging tightly onto her.

"Yeah, you fuckin' better." Tess returned the embrace and gently stroked Millie's hair. "It's gonna be okay, Millie. You'll get through this. I've got you. Let's just get you into bed for a little while and we'll figure it all out once you've gotten some sleep." Tess pulled Millie to her feet and led her down the hall. Millie collapsed readily into her bed, took hold of a pillow, and hugged it tightly to her chest.

It smelled like Ben.