You're warm.

You're comfortable.

Nothing can touch you, not here, not now.

You're safe in your dreams; you can forget for awhile and just think of happy things and happy places.

Until the Phone rings.

It's shrill and at this hour it sounds like someone is blasting the piercing screech through a Megaphone placed right next to your ear.

You don't want to open your eyes. You don't want to answer it. Please god, make it stop!

It doesn't. It never does.

You scramble clumsily looking for the racket making device. You can't find it and it's really annoying, is it just you or is the stupidly set ring tone getting tauntingly louder?

You roll out of bed, onto the ground and you reach out to your back pack….

Ahhh! Yes! Victory!

"Eh?" Your voice is groggy, thick with sleep…unused and forgotten.

"Lily?…Lily, You there?" Oliver's voice projects ever so loudly through the small little speaker and he's attempting to yell over the music that you hear blaring in the background.

"Oliver this better be good Do you know how fucking late it is?!" You're angry, but you're pretty sure why he's calling and if what you think is happening is really happening then you suppose it's a good thing that he's called you.

"Yeah, I know Lils, but …err, we're at a party and …well, it's Miley" It's always Miley.

You groan. You know what's coming but you ask anyway.

"What happened this time?" Yes…You meant to sound so harsh.

"Well…Uhhh, she had a few drinks…I told her to stop but, well she didn't and I think you better get over here cause she aint looking to hot"

He sounds distracted. He better be keeping an eye on Miley or you think you might have kill him. It's already bad enough he goes willingly with her to all these parties, leaving her with people like …Jake Ryan *Shudder*, would be murder worthy.

"Well, where are you?" You ask frustrated as you force your legs to move.

"26 Winfred St…I think its Derek's house…no, David's" Idiot music gets louder and you hear random yelling in the background. Stupid Footballers. You're already throwing on your jeans and your jacket. Now ….Where are those keys?

"Alright, I'll be there " You finally find the keys and you're tip-toeing past your mother's room as fast as you possibly can…Its not working to well in these shoes so you just do a run…walk…skip thing until you get to the top of the stairs.

"Hurry Lily….Jake's lurking around and she's really off her head" He sounds a little desperate. You hang up after that, the anger bubbling in your chest, forming a lump in your throat.

Jake …Shit.

--

You always amaze yourself with your ability to get to places so fast without damaging your mother's car…You suppose the fact you don't care about anything but getting Miley out of there helps a little. Adrenaline pumping an all.

You pull up in front of the house that your 100% certain is the right one. The impossibly loud music and yells and squeals of drunken teenagers are quite the tip off.

You get out of the car. You slam the door. You're tired, angry and worried out of your mind. …Oh and on top of everything you weren't quite as smooth as you thought with you're driving as there's a big scratch on your mother's car that is going so going to get you grounded.

You storm up to Derek's ...no… David…no, whatever! Someone's house and you don't even bother to knock on the door (Who does anyway?) you just run in, looking around for that girl that one day you swear is going to be the death of you.

--

It's musty and dark, music pounding, the low base notes thumping in time with your racing heart beat. Bodies are squashed together, the smell of alcohol and murky cigarette smoke lingers in the air, on everyone's breath seeping through your nostrils, choking your throat.

Nameless faces pass by you, but you barely notice because you've spotted Miley, pressed up between two guys…not even dancing just grinding and swaying and for a second you let yourself notice how sexy she looks but you quickly remember why you're here.

You see Jake, one of the guys, try and drag her off the dance floor, to a more secluded place you assume. She smiles crookedly, not really sure quite what's going on around her.

You see a bottle of something in one of her fragile hands and a cigarette in the other and you feel that same shot of disappointment run through you, mixed with dismal despair because you always remember, at times like these just how far gone she truly is and to be honest You don't think she's ever really going to come back to you and that scares you more than any of this.

You take a step closer and she notices you, a drunken smile sloppily falling on her lips.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeey Lillllllsss" She slurs like an ...idiot. You shake your head…God, She's so lost.

"Come on, Miley...I think you've hand enough fun for tonight" You take her arm and put it around your shoulders, dragging her away as she babbles drunken slur in you ear, giggling like a little girl and it's time like these you wish she still was one.

"Hey! Where arrrrr ya goin'?!" Jake…Drunk….Shit.

"Yerrrrr, Lil….....Wheeeeeeerrrrrre are weee going…cause' I was kinnda thinking bout stayiiing" Miley is rambling, trying to stay upright. Your hand never leaves her back. There's no way you're letting her go, no for anything.

"We're leaving." You say it as firmly as you can with Miley's hot breath on your neck

"Nooooo, C'mon Lily…I think Miley wants to stay. Donnnnn't be such a spoil sport..Stay!" Jake whines like a little boy, he takes a step towards us and you pull Miley closer, ignoring the fact your stomach is doing some sort of acrobatic thing as Miley's head is nuzzling in the crook of your neck.

"Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay, Stay!" a Chant from Jake and his 'buddies" breaks out and you shake your head again because everyone here, including Miley are so drunk it's almost hilarious. Miley's head shoots up as the cheers begin

She sways, unsteadily "Stayy….stay…Chugg...chugg..no..staaaa-"Thump.

Just like that she collapses so quickly you didn't have much time to react so you only just catch her head before it hits the floor.

The chant stops as the drunken crowd looses interest. She's lying there in your arms…

The most broken thing you've ever seen.

--

You both made it to the car and you take a quick look at the clock, rubbing your tired eyes.

It's late.

Insanely late.

So late that technically it could be called early. …But really early doesn't quite have the same effect when you're yelling at her because she's gone and done it again.

It's really late and she's lying there, unconscious, draped over the backseat of your car and you've never seen anything quite so sad. She's not even awake but she's tugging so hard on your heart strings that you're scared she might rip them out and leave you with nothing and she's out cold so she won't even know that she's gone and ripped you apart.

You look away, focusing on the road again and you inwardly whine to yourself about how god damn late it is and how god dam annoyed you are that she's gone and done it again.

The street lights flicker, barely lighting the cold black road and you have to squint to even see the outline of the sign that tells you your nearly home. You turn the car slowly, it's whining too because it also hates being woken from its sleep so god damn fucking late.

Finally, you stop the car altogether and you undo your seat belt, sighing as you look back at her, her head lulling to the side ….. She breaks your heart all over again.

You get out of the car, trying to not make to much noise incase your mother wakes up. You really don't want your mother to wake up because that'll cause questions to be asked, questions you don't have the answer too and questions you haven't even dared to ask yourself.

You open the back door of your car, leaning across the seat…which thankfully, this time she has yet to throw up all over. You check her pulse. Just in case. ….You always check and you don't know why, maybe to reassure yourself she is yet to die from what she keeps on doing

You position your arms under her neck and under her knees, with one big haul you lift her up off the seat and out of the car, making sure not to hit her head on the car door like you've done so many times before…but she never wakes up anyway.

You hear her mumble something unintelligible as you open your front door with your elbow, which you've become very good at doing….you've had practice. With stealth that in the hours of the day you do not possess you creep to your room, keeping your steady hold on the lifeless girl in your arms.

You reach your room. The hallway never seemed longer, but now you're here, safe.

You set her down on your bed, smoothing out the already thrown back covers. You slowly take off her killer high heels, not bothering to change her into anything else now. Normally you would get her into something warmer and ten times more comfortable than that skimpy, flimsy excuse for a dress but tonight it's quite later and she deserves to be uncomfortable for waking you up so rudely.

You sigh again as she rolls over, taking all the covers with her. You certainly won't be on the bed tonight.

You get the bucket you keep in the cupboard for special occasions like these and you put it beside your bed, just near her head. You change, getting a spare blanket and curling up on the bean bag in the corner, grabbing a book and settling in for the night.

She rolls over to face you and she softly smiles in her sleep. Untroubled and Unaware….and just like that she puts back together the delicate shards of your heart and you find yourself smiling too because she's safe and you saved her for another night and even though your almost certain it's all going to happen again, for right now…she's alright.

But you know can't help reminding youself of what you know'llhappen next ; she'll wake up and never remember any of this.

She'll act like she's got things under control.

She'll act like she's okay.

When deep down, like you only see when it's so late it could be called early,

She's Wrecked.

---