Anastasia

Broken

November 1989

"I cant take this shit anymore. Youre fucking becoming delusional." Ana pinched the bridge of her nose as she sat on the table in the middle of Slash's kitchen. He didnt respond, he wasnt even taking her in at the moment as he loudly shuffled through the cabinets trying to look for something to chase his liquor.

"Look at me." she said quietly looking up at the guitarist.

No response.

"Slash."

Nothing.

"SAUL FOR GODS SAKE STOP WHAT THE FUCK YOURE DOING FOR TWO MINUTES!" she stood up as she deliberately tossed the two glass cups that were on the table. The loud crash of the glasses and the fact that she had used his real name made him come down from his high for two seconds as he looked at her, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Are you fucking serious right now? Look at yourself! You've shut yourself in this fucking house for a week now!" she stood and took the bottle away from his hands.

"Hey! What the fuck do you think youre doing?!" he yelled back at her as she made her way to the sink and poured down the liquid. He ran up to her and shoved her out of the way.

"Dont fucking do that! Do you understand me!? Dont fucking touch my shit!" he took the empty jack daniels bottle and threw it against the wall.

"Or what?! Huh!? What the fuck are you going to do? You fucking psychopath." she pushed him out of the way as she made her way to the front door.

"Come back we're not fucking done!" he ran towards her and shut the front entrance from behind.

She turned around. Her delicate facial features now looked almost evil, she was boiling with anger. She hated what he was doing to himself, his drug problem, alcoholism, and deluded antics and tantrums had gotten her more than just fucked up, they had made her hate half of him.

She leaned against the shut door inches away from his face, "Oh yeah? We're not done? Who gave you the right to call the shots? Hmm? You can't even think to save your own life, mind you telling me what to fucking do." she was looking directly into his dilated pupils. She didn't even know what the fuck he was on at the moment, and she didn't even want to know.

"You're one to fucking talk, you're no fucking better." he said through his teeth.

"At least I have respect for myself. Look at yourself, go look in a mirror. Ive been putting up with all of your bullshit for almost a year now, the girls, the heroin, the alchohol... I'm done. If you had cared this much about me," she made a gesture with her fingers "You would've at least had the dignity and the decency of respecting me. Im fucking done. " she wiped away the tears that were coming down her cheeks, sniffing, trying to get a hold of herself

"I can't deal with this anymore. I'm not strong enough and I'm tired of pretending that I am." she pushed him off of her and in two seconds she was out the door and in her car speeding out of the drive way.

"Well fuck you! Okay! I dont fucking need you to tell me what to fucking do! FUCKING BITCH!" he yelled flipping her off as she drove away.

He went back in, not understanding what had just happened. Was this it? Shes gone? Just like that?

"FUCK!" he started tearing down the wall of paintings, pictures, and records, destroying everything in his path as he screamed and made his way to drown himself in his own high.