Effie

He'd gotten her into bed. Taken off her wig. Cleaned off her make up with remover and dozens of little cotton pads. He'd stripped her out of her dress and tucked her in and the entire time she was dead to the world. Once Effie was settled John goes out to the main room and tries to come down. He fidgets and moves too much, laying down and getting up and flailing his arms. But eventually he comes down and as the buzz fades he is ready to take something to take the edge off. He pops a few narcotics and they get him to a place where he can relax. He lays on the sofa and falls asleep in front of the telly.

He's up in the morning to Princess demanding to be fed. She walks on his head and purrs and rubs and so John gets up and sorts out her food, gives her fresh water, then sees to his own needs. Toilet, pills, tea, and a bite to eat. It's easier to sit with the opiates dulling his senses. He thinks to let Effie sleep. But after an hour he goes in to check. She's curled up on herself, sleeping hard. Hard, but alive. And he leaves her. A few hours later he checks again. Still asleep. He begins to worry, thinking about what they've done last night. How she's not alright.

He wonders what he can do. Likely nothing.

John's certain they aren't going to stop all this until something awful happens...