The tears came heavy that night, and He enjoyed observing very much. Tina sat awake by herself on the couch in the living room, Ellen was on the chair beside her but had abandoned her niece by drifting to a fitful sleep, but even so, her cheeks were covered in steady streams. Tina was crying actively in her woken state, each tear a drop of vulnerability that He would love to take advantage of. She had her hair down and unbrushed, and wore pajamas that ended at the base of her ribcage and revealed her perfect abdominals which clenched as she heaved and sobbed. She wore a sweatband on her left wrist and he knew what it meant. He envisioned blood dripping down her hand onto her fingers, and was aroused.

Since He had arrived on this dark and cold evening, Tina had thrown up twice in a trash can in the kitchen. A half hour after the second time, she seemed to be overcome with hunger and made a phone call. Now a young asian man was climbing up the stairs with a bag of takeout containers in one hand. He knocked twice and Tina rushed to the door with a handful of cash. Tina, usually sweet and polite, did not return the delivery boy's smile when she answered the door and made the exchange. He took note of her unruly hair and red eyes and did not seem to take her lack of enthusiasm personally.

When she returned to the living room, Tina ate a few bites and then shoved it away and ran to the kitchen to throw up again.

He was bored with that by now, and eyed the Chinese boy as he retreated back to his car. The boy was thin and gangly, not that that mattered, he wouldn't put up much of a fight even if he were buff, so He wondered to Himself if it was a good night to have a little fun. The boy opened his driver's side door, and He decided that tonight was not the night. Why waste energy on a scrawny delivery boy when He could even gaze at the cheerleader's figure whether it was hunched over a trash can or sobbing on a sofa?

But then, He was struck with an idea. The night was young, and not likely to change from this to a more interesting scene. Just a short distance away, however, was the home of a woman who was likely drowning her sorrows in a whiskey bottle, and who knows if she locked her door without her daughters there.

So this is where He headed. Just straight down the road, a few turns, and He arrived at Britney's house from memory. Her curtains were open and He stepped back to gaze in at her at the perfect angle, while Himself remaining enveloped by shadows. Her blonde hair was tied behind her head in what was once a ponytail, but now was just a mess of greasy blonde knots. At this moment, when both women were so absorbed in grief, He could see that Britney and Tina were very much mother and daughter. Their eyes darkened the same way when they cried, their hands quivered the same way, their hair fell the same way when uncared for. Britney's pajamas revealed a bit of her midriff; much less skin than her daughter's exposed, but then, Britney's figure was not quite as impressive. Not revolting by any means either.

Britney held a bottle of something in her hand, He did not care to check what brand or type of alcohol it was. She drank heavily, and cried without noticing she did. Not an hour after He arrived, she drifted to sleep. He broke the window and invited Himself in.