Usually after someone we love is taken from us, we mourn them. We can't feel anything but despair and devastation for a long, long while. Though, when it came to Bree Van De Kamp, this definitely wasn't the case. Bree was suffering of course, as her husband Rex had recently passed away, but she was trying to act like it didn't bother her. Although I knew that this wasn't the case either..

It was late when Bree Van De Kamp walked down the street after a long, hard day. Everyone had been calling her up to express their sympathy after what had happened, but Bree wanted none of it. Yes, she was upset about Rex, but she didn't need this, she didn't need to be smothered in blankets and have people tell her that they were there for her and that they would do anything they could to make her feel better.

Cocking her head slightly to the left, Bree glanced across the street at her friend Susan Mayer's house. Susan seemed to be washing up after dinner, which was typical as Susan and her teenaged daughter Julie always seemed to eat quite late. Bree just had time to watch Susan ushering an aggrivated Julie upstairs before the lights in the Mayer house went out completely and all was still. Sighing to herself, Bree carried on home, her red hair barely swaying in the wind, even though it was quite a windy night.

Bree had found herself spending a lazy afternoon clearing up yet again and was immersed in her cleaning. Just then, however, the phone began to ring. Feeling perplexed, Bree got up and went to get it. "Hello?" She said clearly into the phone.

"Uh, Bree, this is ," A voice sounded from down the line, "I have some.. bad news," He added with some hesitation, sounding troubled.

Bree's head tilted to one side, "Oh?" She murmered, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Well.. Rex passed away about ten minutes ago. I'm sorry.." said heavily, and Bree sensed the reluctance in his tone.

For a moment, Bree couldn't speak. But only for a few seconds, "But - His operation was supposed to be tommorow.." She began, her voice trailing off. No, was just fooling around. Rex wasn't dead, he couldn't be..

"I'm sorry Bree, but - he didn't make it. We did everything we could. I'm so sorry." Dr Craig answered.

This time, Bree was at a loss for words. Everything seemed to be a blur, even 's voice sounded all fuzzy. "Oh, well. Thank you. And - And I'm glad you called. I'm sure you did everything you could. Th - Thank you." She said, able to try and remain calm. Then she hung up, and set down the phone.

Bree tensed herself, as if waiting for to call back any second and tell her that it had all been a mistake, that Rex wasn't really dead; that he was still living, holding on. When she realised that this wasn't going to happen, Bree relaxed, and went back over to resume her cleaning.

Bree was shell-shocked; she knew Rex was dead. But somehow she just couldn't believe it just right then. She had other things to think about.. what would the others say? What would Danielle and Andrew say? And what..?

After she had finished cleaning, Bree cleared away and then ran her left hand down the dining table, making sure the cloth wasn't creased: that it was perfect. Then, as she absorbed the news that she had just been told, Bree slowly sat down, saw the empty chair opposite her, and burst into tears.

That. Had occured many months ago, only two now that Bree thought about it. But still, it haunted her persistently, and she couldn't get it out of her head. Every single night, Bree would countlessly wake up time and again after having another one of her reoccuring nightmares. But how could she help it? Rex was dead. And he was dead because of her.

If Bree hadn't put so much strain on their marriage, if she had just lightened up like Rex had always told her to, maybe none of this would ever have happened. Atleast, that was what Bree thought. It seemed to her now that she had attempted to make it her mission to make Rex's life a living hell and had suceeded. And look where it had gotten her. Her children barely spoke to her, her son was gay.. Everything was just so screwed up. Even friendly visits from Susan or Lynette couldn't keep Bree focused. She just kept thinking about Rex, and nothing else. Lynette had even warned her that thinking about it too much would drive her insane. But none of that mattered now. Nothing did.

Yes, she still had her children to keep her company. But truthfully Bree was wondering if she would ever get through. After the events with Rex's Mother, Bree was actually quite sure that she would eventually be driven insane by Andrew and Danielle and everyone else giving her so much sympathy. What she needed right then was to just be with herself, and with no one else hanging around and making her miserable.

Sighing to herself, Bree brushed a strand of lavishing red hair out of her face and carried on down the street. Sometimes, she just wished she was dead.

Little did Bree know though, that someone, somewhere, intended to make this happen. And soon.

Yes, yes, I know it's not that great. But I'm going to attempt to make it better. If you have any problems with this fic, feel free to express your oppinion, but even if you think the plot is stupid right now I'm going to make it work. Okay? Okay. :)