Part 194 (2/2)

”Get the h.e.l.l out. I'm not finished yet.”

She left. The hurried sound of her retreating feet echoed.

”Leave me alone,” Stevie murmured. The tears were spilling out of his

eyes, seeping through the fingers he pressed to his face.

”Oh, I'll leave you alone, all right. When I'm done. I found you lying

on the floor, in your own blood and vomit, beside the gun and the

needle. Couldn't you make up your mind which way you wanted to kill

yourself, Stevie? It was just too d.a.m.n bad, wasn't it, that I didn't

want you to die. I pumped life back into you, right there on the floor.

I

cried because I was afraid I wouldn't be quick enough or good enough or

smart enough to save you. But you were breathing when they took you

away, and I thought it mattered.”

”What do you want!” he shouted. ”What the h.e.l.l do you want?”

”I want you to think-think about someone else for a change. How do you

think I would have felt if I'd found you dead? Or Dad-what would it

have been like for him? You have everything, but you're so h.e.l.l-bent to

self-destruct you could have twice as much and it wouldn't matter.”

”I can't help it.”

”Oh, that's a poor excuse, poor and pitiful and sad and completely

suitable to what you've made yourself” She was near tears now herself,

but she fought them back, letting the bubbling anger pour out instead.

”I've loved you ever since I can remember. I've watched you play and

year after year been astonished by what you're capable of creating. Now

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