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My alarm clock slammed into the wall four feet from my bed, beeped twice, and died. "Dammit," I sighed. "Not another one." That was the fifth alarm this month. I pulled myself out from beneath the relative safety of my covers and shuddered at the chill in the air. "Remind me to turn up the heat later," I muttered to the sleeping form still wrapped in my sheets. What was this one's name? Jack...James...Jon? Jon...that was it, I think. My head pounded as I stared at the broken pieces of my cheap alarm clock. "Ugh." I moaned and stumbled into my small bathroom, tripping over empty beer bottles as I went. How much did I drink last night? I stared into the cracked mirror at my tired, red rimmed eyes. Shit, I look like hell. When was the last time I did this? It took me thirty seconds to come up with an answer. Three weeks. Three weeks ago I first visited that new bar, the one with the name I couldn't remember. That night was Matt, Mark..? Ooh... I cringed. Molly. That was a bad night. There was definitely something more than alcohol going around in that bar. Which is why I didn't go back before last night...Well, at least it was a guy this time. What happened? I sighed, Guess it really doesn't matter anymore. I pulled myself away from the hideously pale face in the mirror and back into my bedroom. I could hear the scorn now, work was going to be a nightmare. 'How could you let yourself go like that Lexa?' 'Lexa, why do you hurt yourself like this?' 'You know he's never coming back right Lexa?' 'It doesn't matter how many other people you fuck, Lexa, he left six months ago for god's sake.' My wardrobe consisted of an old pair of jeans, a flannel tee and a hooded sweatshirt. I needed air and at five am, no one outside would care if I looked like I'd just crawled out of a cardboard box. I pulled my purse off of the hook by the door and stepped outside into the crisp autumn air, not bothering to lock my door as I went. Maybe by the time I got back the lump under my covers would be gone.