ONE…

'You make me laugh!' She slurred out as she waved the empty bottle in my direction.

'And why is that dear?' I sighed as I picked up the empty's from the floor and stuffed them into a clear garbage bag, tied it up and threw it into the pantry next to five others from previous days this week. This is the fourth time she's said this today and not once as it ended on pleasant terms.

'Because you get mad at me ALL THE TIME and I don't even to anything!'

'Honey I never said I was mad. All I said was that I wished you would slow down on the drinks for a while. I mean for Christ sakes its not even seven at night and you've already drank a fucking pint of whiskey to yourself.'

'What's your point huh? You're not so fucking perfect yourself so why does everything I do always get blown out of proportion just because you think you don't do anything wrong?'

'That's not what I said, I said tha-'

'I heard what you said, but that doesn't mean you're automatically right asshole. Just because you think you can tell me what to do doesn't mean that I'm going to just surrender at you feet and let you control me.'

'Babe you know it's not like that. This has nothing to do with me wanting to control you it has to do with the fact that if you don't stop soon you're going to be six feet under. And then I can't do anything about it. I love you. You should know that by now and I'm not going to let you drink yourself to death. So right now under these circumstances I don't care how mad you are at me if it ends up saving you fucking life.'

By now things were getting pretty heated. But for a moment when we locked eyes I saw her whole mind crash into reality, she tried to keep her glare firm and consistent but for her right now after what I had just said, it was like trying to build a house of cards in a hurricane. As sick as this sounds, I love seeing that look in her eyes just to see that what I say is making some difference and bringing her to the realization that I really love her and to see that she finally understands what I'm trying to get through to her. I tried to enjoy every second of this moment because I knew that soon shed be passed out on the bathroom floor and shed wake up the next morning not remembering anything I said. And I dare not bring it up because the stress of every word that would be spoken would just drive the bottle closer to her lips. Soon enough, we'd be right back where we started and there would be nothing that anyone, not even I could do about it.

'Lily I, I don't feel so goo-' The sound of her addiction's consequences filled my ears and the strong stench of what smelled like a mix of alcohol and cinnamon burned my nose as I held her hair away from her face which was now buried in an empty potato chip bag I quickly swiped off of the floor and handed to her.

The very sight of her like this made me sick. Kind of like my stomach was trying to force it's was out of my body in every direction throughout my whole torso. I can't believe I let her get this bad. I did everything and I still do but its just not enough anymore, maybe it never was but it hasn't stopped me before and I'm sure as hell not going to let it stop me now.

Next thing I knew she was face down into the couch and still as stone. I dropped to my knees and picked her up and carried her to her room upstairs I stopped dead in my tracks and brought her chest to my ear and listened for some sign of life just so I knew that she was still being held up by the strings of her tattered existence.

TWO…

I gently laid her limp but breathing body on her bed and made my way over to her dresser to grab her some underwear and her favorite hot red silk nightgown out of the top drawer. Its not like I could let her sleep in her brand new Hannah dress. Often enough she wakes from her deep sleep only to throw up and then clonk right back out again. She'd ruin it for sure. Though she'd never know she did anything if she was drinking because she can never remember anything that happens from the time the liquor hits her tongue until the time she awakes the next day.

The thing angers me the most is that she doesn't even see any of the things that are happening to her. She can't see herself wasting away to nothing from getting sick so much and then not eating enough because as soon as she wakes up in the morning she needs a drink. She doesn't see the disease slowly overcoming her and taking her over like poison spreading through her veins. The sad part is that I don't think she ever will see it, not even in her last moments on this earth will she ever see what she continues to put herself through and put everyone else through as well. I glanced back to the limp shell that was continuously taunting me with memories of what she once was, of what she could still be. It wasn't fair. All I wanted was my Miley back. Not the person everyone thought she was or the person she pretended to be when she was fooling the world as Hannah Montana. Or the person she tried to be. No, see I want the real Miley. The one that listened to all of my problems and the one that stayed up on the phone with me until five in the morning the night before finals to help me study. God only knows if I'll ever see that girl again, but hope has been all that's gotten me through this whole thing so far. So, why not?

It took me a few minutes to snap back into reality and realize that I had gotten lost inside of my own little world of thoughts and hopes. It was like my dreamland there in that place. Peaceful, quiet and full of hopes and dreams and wants that I had had since I was a little girl. I still have those same hopes and dreams, some new ones too. But life ain't no fairytale, that's for damn sure.

I laid the clothes I had selected for her on the nightstand by her bed and I turned her over face down on the bed as gently as I could so I didn't wake her. I crawled down to the foot of the bed and slipped the glossy pink stilettos off of her feet. There were tiny red blisters starting to form where the straps were. I shook my head with a sarcastic grin on my face. I had told her yesterday that if she wore these to the benefit concert tonight that she'd end up with sore feet.

I crawled up to the head of the sleeping girl and brushed her hair out of her beautiful heart shaped face. Many people are told they look peaceful when they sleep. I wish I could see miley like that, just once. When she slept she looked like she was being tortured. She tossed and turned from nightmares, yes poor miley was not at all peaceful when she slept. She was one mangled soul that girl. As stupid as it sounds, sometimes I actually tell myself that things are going to be okay. Crazy right? Well in all honesty, sometimes that's all that gets me through the episodes she goes through. Hope is all I have now, its all ill ever have. I turned sleeping beauty onto her stomach and slid the zipper on her dress down its track revealing the deep curve of mileys back. I slid the strapless dress down as far as I could in my current position, then I flipped her back over and slid it down the rest of the way and off of her feet. I took the dress and walked it over to the Hannah closet and slipped it onto a hanger and hung it onto the closet carousel and went back to my beauty's side. I just looked at her for a moment and my heart sank in my chest as I took in the image before me. She looked awful but even then she was beautiful.

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