She stared at the door illuminated by the hallway light. The screams stopped. Tears streaming from her eyes she opened the door with her tiny hand. Her mother was in a silk night robe, disheveled past her shoulders. She was kneeling on the bed, a fragile wisp of bones and skin. Her father's hands were still wrapped tightly around her thin neck giving it one last shake like a rag doll, but the light pouring in from the hallway stopped him in mid-strangle, her mother's body shaking like a dead wet chicken. Her mother's eyes widen turning towards her, which stopped him. Next to them on the sheets was an iron, the cord curling on the messy sheets like a snake. He let her go, her mother rushed to her, picking her up and holding her. As they bolted together for the door, he chased them down outside. Darkness.

Unicorn sipped the last of her sixth glass of whiskey. She brushed her fingertips against the inside of her thigh, there the remnants of the over compensated bump of skin tissue, a scar from the iron years ago. She stared at the large vanity mirror in silence, even the alcohol couldn't shake the stone poise of her body. Her boyfriend, one of the men she met on a drug run in New York smiled as he entered the room. He walked over standing behind her, his large rough hands placed over her shoulders kissing her neck.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he whispered in her ear. 

Silence.

"What's wrong?" he asked concerned, his brow furrowing at the three fourths empty crystal liquor bottle next to her makeup.

"Get out." Unicorn said simply.

"Why? I thought we had a good time last-"

"Get out."