At 6:31 A.M. the fifteen dollar alarm clock radio turned itself on. Amongst the onslaught of advertisements were frequent traffic updates for the greater Los Angeles area. It was bad. The traffic was bad.

The random sound effects of the ads somehow did not garner any attention.

At 6:45 A.M. the cell phone sitting next to the alarm clock began blaring a sound similar to an air raid siren. This noise did garner attention. A hand quickly snatched up the phone and silenced it.

The hand disappeared under the fluffy synthetic down comforter on the bed. All was still.

After several minutes, Dana sat up. She was an absolute wreck. Her long blonde hair was frizzy and unkempt. Her nose and eyes were red and puffy. The apartment around her was full of boxes, some labeled, most not. There was a striking lack of furniture. Despite this being her home for several years, one would assume that she’d only just moved in.

Wearing just her panties and a tank top, she slowly climbed out of bed and slouched into the bathroom. Her petite, lithe body was limp and lifeless. She stood at the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror and watched her eyes fill with tears yet again. She had cried herself to sleep the night before. And the night before that. And the night before that. She couldn't remember the last time she fell asleep feeling carefree.

Once dressed and prepared for the day, Dana looked rather lovely. She had chosen to wear a grey pantsuit over a violet blouse and matching violet slingback pumps. Once she was ready to leave, she called out to Lady, her Black Lab.

“Come here, girl. Let’s go for a walk.”

 Lady came barreling toward her. Dana leashed her and the two exited the apartment.

As Lady led Dana around the block, Dana felt a crushing weight. There was a time where simply walking the dog on the suburban streets of the Valley was enough to make her feel invigorated and happy. Today it was a march to the gallows.

Lady finally stopped to defecate. Dana mindlessly picked up the waste with a plastic bag and encouraged Lady to go back home. Once back in the apartment Dana used treats to coax Lady into her crate. Once the big black dog was safe and secure, Dana turned to leave, pausing halfway out the door to say to Lady, “At least I’ve still got you. No one can take you away from me.”

Lady watched Dana disappear out the door and knew that the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place meant that she'd be in the crate for a while. She didn't mind, she'd been crated for her whole life, it was normal for her. She whined softly for a minute though, dreading a vague ominous feeling in the air. Her protective instincts were kicking in, but she was stuck in a crate and her person was out in the world somewhere– off of her leash.

An hour and a half later, Dana was shaking the hand of her lawyer in a hallway of a courthouse. It had been eight months in the making, but today was the day that her divorce would become final. Four years of marriage, six years of cohabiting, eight years of the relationship, the end of which would officially be this very day. They just had to get the judge to sign off on it.

Upon entering the room, she saw the back of Manny's head and had to steel herself in order not to break down again. Floating in a bizarre place between a blind, murderous rage and complete and utter hopeless despair, she couldn't figure out if she'd rather gouge out his eyes or beg him to move back into the apartment and forget all this divorce nonsense. Maybe gouging his eyes out would give him reason to move back in, just to have a nurse...

The judge signed off on it almost immediately, sparing Dana the inner turmoil of having to present a composed appearance to Manny for an extended amount of time. It was the life shattering equivalent of ripping a bandage off quickly.

It was over. Dana was a thirty-six year old divorced mother of none still trying to book a breakout role in Hollywood. This wasn’t at all what she had expected when she moved to California twelve years earlier.

She sat in her car after leaving the courthouse. She was in a torpor, simply sitting there, doing nothing. She couldn’t even think. Minutes passed.

Nothing.

Finally, she blinked and a revelation showed on her face. She pulled out her cell phone and placed a call.

Ring… Ring… Ring…

“This is Nicholas McKinnon, please leave a message and I’ll get back to you at my leisure. Thanks.”

Beep.

“Hey, Nick. It’s Dana. It’s been a while. Just wanted to check in, say hi, you know. Hopefully you’re working on some great new book or something. I don’t want to bother you. Hope you’re good though. Bye.”

Dana hesitated for a second, then started the car and drove away from the courthouse. She drove somewhat aimlessly before winding up on Pico heading west. She decided that she’d like to go stare at the ocean for a while, perhaps walk out into it and drown.

After parking the car, she wandered out into the sand on the beach. She turned to her right and gazed at the Pier. She watched as the Ferris wheel lifted the happy people skyward, and the roller coaster coaxed delighted screams out of others. She hadn’t been optimistic or thrilled in such a long time, she couldn't quite remember how it felt.

She collapsed down on the sand, pantsuit be damned. Slowly, she reached out and pulled her shoes off of her feet and dug her toes into the sand. She stared out to the horizon. No thoughts, no concerns, just mindless staring.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3