I don't know if you're going to like this story. But read it anyway.

Summary:

Daria has had a harder life than she was going to give her self credit for, and now was she was an addict. What would happen to make her change so much?

A Proximity to Punctuality

Prologue-

She didn't know where to start. Her laptop sat in her lap, her fingers braced against the keys, and she was simply there. She didn't know what to write. Sighing she removes the laptop from her lap and places it on the coffee table in front of her. Standing she makes her way from the couch to the front door of her third story apartment.

It had been a long time since she had sat down and written anything. It was nearly scary. When she had been a teenager in Lawndale, there was always a place for a blank word document in her time. She had never had to think about what to write. It just flowed from her finger tips and onto the computer screen. Even Jane would have said that there was promise in her writing… but like she said, it had been a long time since she had been able to do anything.

But now… she didn't know where to start. So instead that night, played out like all the rest. Even if this night was different from the aforementioned ones. She would be leaving college tonight. She would be leaving her life here for a solid two months, or as long as it took. She would go home, to Lawndale. Since not going to home last year, since her fight with Jane, she had changed. Sure, she still thought about her old friend everyday. How could she not? But she was different now. Jane might not be as torn about what happened last summer as Daria was. She remembered that night like no other.

It had been a stupid fight, Daria couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about. But she remembered the outcome. Daria had become so disgusted with her best friend that she had slapped her. Right there, in the middle of her living room, Daria had ended their friendship. But now, two years later, she missed Janie more that she wanted to admit. She missed having someone to talk to on night like tonight.

It was hot in New York, being that it was nearly the start of the summer quarter. Near May, to be exact, April nineteenth. But on nights that it was hot she loved to walk to Nathan's. Nathan was her dealer, and her lover. But she was going home. He knew, and was saddened by her leaving, but she knew he had to go through women like bottles of wine: slowly, but every night sipping on a new one for later. She knew there were other people out there. But she knew she didn't to get close to any of them that couldn't give her what she needed. And what she needed was her yaba. True, Daria had never been one for being dependant. But, again, a lot had changed. She wasn't the sassy sarcastic person she had been her senior year of high school. For one, she had lost her best friend. That was enough to change her for the worse.

Coming to college in New York, had been what she thought best for her. Getting away from what she had been, getting a chance to start over and make a name for her self. All she had done in the end, was destroyed her self. Everything she had liked about her self, she had destroyed.

But this would be the last night. She was going to go and start over, tomorrow. She was leaving Nathan. She was going to try and leave her addiction. But she was going to take spares to stop the tremors that she knew would come. She was settling in for the long haul. She was going to get cleaned up… take a break from college, get her life back together.

So, there she stood standing on the doorstep of Nathan's house. He lived in a little house squished between two taller buildings, on Fourth Street. She had been there so many times in the last years.

Nathan answered the door slowly. "Daria, babe!" She smiles and he opens the door wider to let her in. His eyes devoured her, as they always did. She was always disgusted with herself after she left his bed, but it was all in good faith. She removes her jacket and quickly turns to face him. It was never good to have your back to Nathan for too long. She looks up at him, as he was an entire head taller than her, and smiles sugary. "What can I do you for," she asks as he walks toward her. They both knew what was coming, and she was braced for it. His moth came crashing down on her. He tasted of cigarettes and cheap whisky. A taste she had become used to, not one she favored but again, she was used to it. Of course Nathan wasn't the only man she had kissed. But she would have nothing to do with the others any longer. Nathan was soon to become one of them.

Daria, though soundly addicted and tainted, wasn't proud of who she had become. She wasn't happy with her life. She knew it and she was sad about it. But she swore to herself, that night as she lay in Nathan's arms for the last time, she was going to make it better for herself. She was done with the drugs, and the booze, and the smoking, and the sex. She would be delighted if she never had sex again. Closing her eyes for a second, she sighs and stands from the bed. Nathan stirs and looks up at her as she dresses.

"You know, Daria," He says groggily, "I might miss you." Daria looks at the inebriated man and shakes her head. She wouldn't miss him. She never missed the men she had sex with. She shakes her head again and stands from tying her boots.

"Where is it?" She asks. Nathan reaches behind him and pulls the small baggie from the small wooden box on the headboard. The brightly colored yaba were out of his hand in milliseconds of being produced from the box. Quickly, she move from house as Nathan yells her name after her. He knew she would be back… she had a fear of it.

The next morning came too slowly, having already gotten off to a bad start. Popping two of the fifty small bright pills before sun up, she was packed around five and on the road by five thirty. She reached Lawndale a several hours later. Pulling into her parents' driveway, she looked at the clock; it was about nine, on a bright Tuesday morning. Quinn was already home. Her car parked outside the two car garage, now next to Daria's car. She sighs, wishing already she had a smoke. She was nervous. She hadn't been home in two years. And she knew she was sorely missed. Helen would call on the holidays or some weekends, telling her how much they missed her and about how Quinn liked her first year at school.

Daria, biting her lip, steps out of the car. A beat up burgundy clunker drives down the road, loud music that Daria couldn't place beating through the windows. She ducks back into the car and sitting on the side of the seat, tries to get a glimpse of Jane driving her clunker down the road. She could see her barely and as the car rounded the corner Daria shakes her head and stand from the car again.

She walks to the front door that was conveniently open and pushed it in. Quinn walks down the stairs as she stands her back against the front door she had just opened. "Daria!" She calls making Daria look up at her younger sister. The years had been good to Quinn. She was slimmer now, though it wasn't like she hadn't always been. Her hair cut in a cute bob around her face. Daria could help but be envious.

Hearing their daughter's proclamation of their oldest returned, Helen and Jake sprung from the wood work. They all hugged and Daria smiled. She had missed them after all. "Where's your stuff?" Helen asks after the reunion had finished. Daria tells them that it was in the trunk of her car. They all make a family trip and gather the trunk and duffle from Daria's car trunk. Helen and Jake lug the large trunk up the stairs and into Daria's old room, which had been moved around a little. Daria stops in the door way of her old room and sighs.

For the first time in two years it felt like she was doing something right. She just hoped it stayed, that the feeling of doing it right stayed with her for a while.