Jane seemed to mirror the dead feeling that defined Quinn ever since waking from her coma when she first opened the door, but when she saw who it was, there was an instant transformation.
"What do YOU want?" Jane snarled, her face twisted into a rictus of rage.
Quinn was taken aback by the shockingly intense hostility. "Can I talk to Daria?" She asked timidly. She had always been a bit intimidated by Jane, who, unlike Quinn, had a self-assurdness not based in others' opinions of her, a sense of individuality and independence that Quinn lacked, admired, and despised all at once. That old feeling of inferiority was ten times worse now that Jane was apparently angry at her for some reason.
Jane's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you high? No, you can't talk to Daria, and you know exactly why! What the **** is wrong with you?!"
Quinn was starting to get mad. She knew she'd said some pretty awful things to her sister, but this was way too long to hold a grudge, and there was no way Jane should be so unreasonably angry on Daria's behalf. "**** your hurt feelings! Look at me! Don't you think I've suffered enough?"
Jane recoiled momentarily, but when she recovered, she was twice as angry as before, getting right up in Quinn's face. "Are you ******* kidding me?" Her voice was deadly quiet. "After all this, you're still going to try to make this all about you? You really are the scum of the earth, aren't you. Are you even capable of feeling anything for anyone other than yourself, you ******* selfish *****? Trying to play the sympathy card with those scars? Don't tempt me, I'll send you right back to the hospital."
Quinn drew in on herself, unable to refute a single thing Jane said. She was indeed shallow and selfish. She had come here seeking forgiveness to ease her own troubled conscience, somehow thinking it was owed her for what she had already gone through, but when it came down to it, her troubles were of her own making. Everything that had happened, she had done to herself. She had wronged Daria, and Daria had done nothing to her. Daria owed her nothing. Her sense of entitlement disappeared, leaving contrition in its wake. "You're right. I'm sorry. I know what I said to Daria was unforgivable, and I get why she won't talk to me anymore, but please. Just let me apologize. She doesn't have to forgive me, but I need to at least say it to her. Please?"
Jane's face went blank. She backed off, looking Quinn up and down. "Ah. I see. So that's how it is." There was silence for a moment as the two examined each other. Just when Quinn was going to renew her plea even more emphatically, Jane continued. "Daria's not here. Hold on one second."
She went in the house briefly. When she came out, she handed Quinn a piece of paper with a scribbled address. "This is where you'll find Daria. If you need more instructions when you get there, and you will, this should answer your questions." She said, giving Quinn a second paper, folded up.
"Thanks, Jane. Really. I appreciate this." Quinn said sincerely.
"Yeah. Sure." With the hostility gone, Jane was left somewhere between biting sarcasm and abject apathy. She slammed the door shut, blowing Quinn's hair back.
Quinn shrugged it off and examined the address. She knew the cross streets, and decided to walk, though it was quite far. There was no way she was calling her parents for a ride with how they'd been acting, and she had no interest in continuing her last conversation with Jeffy, nor in starting a new one with any of her other admirers. Walking was the only option.
She set off, in even more turmoil now than when she had left her house. In addition to the continuing anxiety of her coming confrontation with her sister, she was now filled with questions. Why wasn't Daria at Jane's, as her parents had claimed? Where was this strange place she was staying at, that it would need an entire extra set of instructions in addition to the physical address? Did it have anything to do with her mother's obsession with keeping her home? With Jane's unusual hostility? She didn't know, and thinking got her no closer to answers, so she put her head down and walked, ignoring the growing fatigue in her unused muscles. Physical exhaustion meant nothing to her at this point. She was determined to get some answers, some closure, some peace. Finally, some peace. Please, some peace.
When she arrived within sight of her destination, exhausted nearly to delerium, she simply stared without comprehension. Her mind refused to work properly, until finally, minutes later, it clicked into place, and Quinn sank to her knees with an anguished cry. "No." She sobbed, shaking her head in denial. " No, no, no, no, no." She wanted to believe that it was just an awful prank, a trick to teach her a lesson, but there was no denying the truth. A scream of pure pain ripped from her throat.
The address Jane had given her was to the Lawndale cemetery.