Her eyes begin to swell, her tear ducts closing up on her. How many tears can one person cry over one person, she asks herself. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she feels as if her eyes are about to fall out of her head. Just a simple POP and then they are going to leave her body and roll down the street into a grate in a ditch. She sits on her stoop, drinking Smirnoff Ice out of a water bottle while smoking a cigarette.

The skies of New York are black at night. The smog and pollution rise from the streets below, causing no stars to be seen. She lets out a deep sigh and looks up at the light from her apartment. The light is on. Her roommate is still awake. She shakes at the thought and rolls her eyes. She stands up, nearly falling, and staggers her way to the other side of the courtyard. Taking slow steps up another stoop, she enters the door to her best friend’s apartment building. After taking several more steps that could be completed by a sober person in two, she pushes the button reading C43 she hears it ring, and her friend answers.

A friendly voice answers. “Hello?” it says. “Yo, Machi, wanna chill?” she asks, crossing her fingers as best she can in her drunken stupor. Her friend goes, “B? Is that you?” She smiles widely, nodding her head as if she could see her. “Yup,” ‘B’ responds. “Come on down and sit with me! I need to get away from her,” she says.

After a few moments of silence, she begins to turn away and attempts to walk back down the stairs. She then hears the sound of two sets of rapid footsteps. She turns around and it’s her friend and her friend’s puppy. She laughs, seeing them and nods her head, in appreciation of her friend.

They make it outside and take a seat on her stoop. She takes a sip of Smirnoff and she looks at her friend. “So, today,” she begins, telling her friend of all of the drama that had begun that day, feeling very appreciative that she had at least one person to tell about her feelings. It was that day that she found out who her real friends were in life.