Blue guitars and denim jackets

12:05am

It's 12:05am.
Diana sighs down at her papers. Haley had refused to come in again and Diana was stuck, how was she supposed to come up  with anything if the damn girl wouldnt even see her?

Her shaking hand reaches for the cold cup of tea on her desk, it leaves a round mark on the polished wood as she pulls it to her lips. The cold liquid slides down her throat but does nothing to dampen her worry. This girl; this, broken girl, was a true enigma.

And to put it bluntly, Diana was desperate to study her.

The old phone on her desk rings, causing Diana's fragile frame to jump. The tea spills.

"Shit!" Her raspy voice scrapes past her lips and tastes unfamiliar on her tongue.
The mug crashes to the gray cement floor and smashes to her feet. The phone still rings.

Tea all over the floor, pieces of her favourite mug scattered at her foot, Diana practically throws herself down to try to clean up the mess. Something sharp pierces her skin and her hand shoots backwards involuntarily. "Shit!!" Blood runs dramatically. The phone still rings.

Diana cleans it up best she can (mainly by haphazardly shoving it all into her dainty bin) before reaching for her cigarettes, lights one, then remembers it's not permitted in the office.
"Shit" That bloody phone still rings.

"What the fuck do you want?" Empty silence wallows from the other end.

"Uh, Dr Everett? It's... it's Haley, I um... I was wondering if I could- you know. Make an appointment? For tomorrow?"

~

Kat is sitting on her bed, rapped up in a soft dark blue blanket; finally getting that homework done.

Tom is in the next room, fast asleep after a story of little boys climbing up beanstalks and stealing golden eggs. Elisa is staying the night at her friend's house, Riley or Rachel or something.
And, seeing as it's now 12:05am she should stumble through the front door in-

"-Children! Mama's home!" The woman strides in and opens tanned arms in a flourish.

It's been a good night then.

"Do you want to wake Tom? I just got him to sleep!" Kat whisper-shouts from where she now stands, opposite her mother, arms crossed defensively.

She giggles. Actually giggles.
"Tom's 5 years old now he can handle a late night or two. It's me. His mother. Tell me that's more important." Although they are not slurred, her words fall out in over pronounced chunks.

Sally Henderson practically waddles to her son's door, heels in hand, hair undone and messy. Kat's lip curls at the disgusting thought of not only where she'd been, but what the sight of her would do to Tom, and she easily steps in her path.

"Leave him alone Sally. He's asleep, leave him to rest." The stunned look on Sally's face is wiped clean off in seconds.

"Fine. Of course! I'm forgetting! I'm not the adult here am I? I'm not the one working my ass off every day, trying to keep drunk idiots from tearing each other apart, am I?" I'm not the one who put up with an abusive man looking after my kids for 8 years, am I?"
Her voice darkens and she leans in close. Kat fights to keep the fear from leaking into her face.
"Am. I."

Hanging at her side, Kat's hand closes into a fist.
"You barely even work in that bar anymore. Frankly, you shouldn't be. He keeps you around because he feels sorry for you. But you do nothing." Anger and confidence bubble in Kat's chest.

"Well, unless you count flirting with every drunk that falls through the door! Who was it tonight? Was it Ben again? Or Nathan? Or Stephen? Or are you going for the younger boys now, fed up with the usuals?"

Kat hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath, and lets out a sigh as Sally stumbles away slightly.

She looks at Kat through tearing eyes, but Kat feels no remorse for this woman who abandons them everyday for some different guy. This woman who spends her time partying and spending every penny she can on new clothes for herself. Make up for herself. Concert tickets, for herself. Holidays, for herself.

Kat has had to work herself to keep the family going. Keeping the money in a different place every week to try to stop Sally from finding and using it. Which she had done many times before.

"You ungrateful brat" she whispers. Walks to the front door, and slams it behind her.

"Kat?" A sniffling voice asks, "is she gone yet? Is mum gone?"
Sighing, Kat walks into Tom's room.