So it's been an unnecessarily long time since I've posted a story. Like a year, and it's not like I haven't been writing, because I have. I just haven't actually finished a story. Technically this one isn't finished but I'm posting it anyways, in hopes that I will finish it soon. So this story, is actually kind of really emo. Like in had an emo genre, this would totally be under it. Anyways, let me know what you think, and enjoy.

Chapter 1

It was a sunny day that day. Which means sunny days are officially ruined for me. Which just adds to my misery as I stand here on the excessively green grass, under the blindly bright blue sky. I think they just make the grass greener to make people think that this isn't actually the worse day of their lives. That it's not really as bad as it seems.

But it is.

At least for me it is.

We were supposed to be together. We were together. She was my best friend, my lover, my partner, my school mate, my drinking buddy, my girlfriend… she was my everything. And I'll be damned if people say that things are going to be all right. Because truth is, no one knows that. I don't, they don't… but then again, personally I choose not to believe it. I know for a fact that things won't be okay. I know for a fact I'll never be able to see my girlfriend again, I'll never be able to hold her hand as we take a stroll through the park, I'll never be able to receive that great feeling of her lips on mine… I'll never have any of it again.

So no, everything will definitely not be all right.

We were together for four years. Since freshman year. It's kind of funny. Our relationship started the same way it ended; abruptly. One week into our first year of high school she kissed me. We had been best friends for five years at that point and we were simply in love. And we loved each other every day of those five years. From day one that's how it was.

As I sit here with my friends in the surprisingly, and ironically, light mooded funeral I can't help but drift away from the man reading scripture from a bible. Why does it matter? She wasn't a religious person, we all knew it. But as we sat here we all knew things wouldn't be the same. A tragedy like this? It couldn't be. It was bound to drive someone into depression or insanity.

… which by the way, I am staking my claim on both. God knows this is going to be a rough next few months. Possibly years, depending on how well therapy goes.

It all went down exactly five days ago. Five days ago is when tragedy struck Tree Hill in the form of the loss of a loved one. My loved one, more specifically. Five days ago a man decided to get piss drunk and idiotically drive home the very same night, consequently resulting in a head on collision. And no, not just any head on collision, a head on collision with my girlfriend's car. I could never forget the words the police officer told me as I waited for her in the hospital.

Unexpected tragedy.

Killed on impact.

Drunk driver.

I'm sorry.

Truth be told, none of these words meant what they should have to me. All I could think was… she was gone. And there was nothing I could do about it. The one person who had always been there for me was gone. I realized I had never felt so alone, as I did in that very moment. I felt my knees buckle beneath me and the 409 smelling floor come that much closer to me as I fell to the ground of the hospital. I could feel the arms of a friend wrap around me. Which friend I never truly figured out, but it wasn't enough. The feeling of someone else's arms around me just wasn't enough. I needed her. And she just wasn't there.

Now as I stand here at her funeral I can't help but wonder "why?" Why are we here? Why did this have to happen to her? Why did this have to happen to me? And what kills me the most is the fact that I'll never know the answers.

"… Brooke" Haley says quietly, as she holds my hand in hers. I draw my attention away from my thoughts and to the girl standing in front of me. I look at her, then look around to see everyone has already begun to walk away.

"what?" I ask desperately trying to get a grasp on reality.

"come on, Brooke. It's over. Everyone's going to Mr. Sawyer's house for the wake" Haley tells me as she tries to tug my hand along in the direction of my car.

I subtly let my hand slip from hers and look back at the casket. I never understood how they could fit a life full of love and happiness into a box that small. It never full made sense to me. Everything that she was, is and could ever be… is now forever trapped inside of the finely finished cherry wood casket.

"Brooke?" Haley asks again.

"let's go" I mutter quietly.

……………….

We pull up to the house I know so well to see cars already parked up and down the street. I park my blue bug in the driveway. It's not like Larry has a car to drive around, and I doubt anyone would argue me parking here.

As we walk into the house Haley tells me she's going to go see Mr. Sawyer and pay her respects. I can only nod in response. I wander through the house and I can feel the eyes glued to me like I'm wearing nothing but my underwear, which I'm sure she would have loved. But I can feel that the people around me, the friends, the family, everyone just wants to convey how sorry they are for me, but I'm a little thankful that they aren't. Truth be told, I don't think I could handle it.

In the kitchen I can see Lucas, Nathan, Rachel, Haley and the river court boys standing around and talking, trying to make the best of a bad situation. I can see people who I'm sure are family, but I've never seen before in my life. Peyton never really did have a close family.

"Brooke…" I hear a deep voice from behind me, the first person who isn't actually a coward. I turn around to see the slightly nervous wreck of an army brat standing behind me in his suit.

"Derek" I breathe out. It was her brother. I see him standing there with his white hat in his hands, slowly gripping at the rim to pass the awkward seconds by. I can tell just by the way he stands he's almost as broken as I am. He looks down at the floor and glances up. It's like we don't even need words to convey what we're thinking, because we're both thinking the same thing.

"come here…" I whisper and pull him into a hug, which he kindly returns. "how long are you back for?"

"just today and tomorrow." He says.

"that's it?" I ask sadly.

"I have a feeling if I stayed any longer I wouldn't be able to leave" he explains logically. I nod in understanding.

I stare back at him as we stand here still trying to think of the next not-so awkward thing to say. Obviously we both fail miserably.

"how are you doing?" he asks carefully. And it's things like this that I have no idea how to reply to. If I say 'fine' they wouldn't believe me. And if I say fine… I'm also lying. But telling the truth would get me nowhere but a mental breakdown and love handles from all of the ice cream I would eat.

So I shrug at his question. He can see it in my eyes anyways. So it doesn't really matter what I say, everyone knows exactly how I feel.

"yeah, I know what you mean…" he says quietly, "but it's okay to be sad" He pulls me into another hug and murmurs something about helping Larry out with food and drinks. I can't stand when people say it's okay to be sad.

As soon as he was gone I looked around the room at all of these unfamiliar faces and I couldn't help but think about how much I missed her. So I casually slipped away from the crowded room and straight for the stairs. You have no idea how many hours we've spent in this room. Whether it had been two little nine year old girls trying on makeup and listening to horrible music… or two seventeen year old girls making out until their lips turned numb.

I push open the black door with some of her favourite, yet tragic pieces of art on it, and walked into the unusually red room. It's exactly how she left it. Bed made, to the best of her ability. Records lined up beside her record player… she always had music to listen to. Computer on, webcam staring into the now empty room. That thing created nothing but problems, but she refused to take it down. I take a seat on the bed and lie down on the right side. I usually slept on the right side that's why. She used to always complain that I would take up more than half the bed though. I didn't doubt her once.

I dig my head into the pillow and I can smell her as if she's right there. I let my eyes close and it's almost as if it's back how it used to be.

"feels nice, doesn't it?" I hear a voice. My eyes immediately shoot open and I look around the room, but there's no one there. It's weird because I could have sworn I heard something. What's even weirder is that it almost sounded like her. But that's impossible.

I close my eyes again and lay back down trying to remember that familiar feeling, even if it's only for a few minutes.

"feels just like old times…" I hear the same voice.

My eyes open up again and I glance from left to right. No one is there. Maybe I'm just hallucinating this stuff. But it sounds just like her…

I close my eyes one last time. This time maybe even harder than before.

"you're on my side of the bed though" I hear the voice again. And this time I sit up in the bed and look around. And instead of finding nothing and no one like usual. I see her.

In her closet, rearranging some of her records again as if nothing is different.

"Peyton?"

Tragedies; sometimes we only get one. Well, one to the lucky. Sometimes it's more. Either way, there's always one tragedy in your life that's worst than the rest. There's always one where you can never fully get over.

She was it for me.