This is a Jackson-centric story. Don't like, don't read.

This piece is titled Finding Me after the song Finding Me by Vertical Horizon. I listened to it over and over while I wrote this. It's on it's 15th go-around right now. Haha.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.

After a while of neglect, your brain starts to change. It starts to think that maybe everyone oversees you because you're not important at all. That no one loves you anymore - that no one ever did. That you did something wrong and that's why no one notices you now. It turns your own mind against you. Makes you start to hate yourself. Makes you the bad guy in this crappy situation.

The emotional abuse tears down your resonable thinking; it alters your brain. And all that emotional abuse causes you to seem like a mental case. Too long with neglect and other emotional abuse, you'll go mentally ill. You'll start thinking every bad thing that people say or do to you are correct. You'll take it all because you think that you're not worthy of anything else.

Your mind is a powerful thing.

Jackson sat in his room thinking about... well, everything.

Dad's gonna kill me. These horrible grades. I'm a fucking idiot. I can't even make good grades in school. I tired, I really did.

Jackson was staring at his report card.

AP World History - 94/A.

English - 92/A.

Pre-Cal - 91/A.

AP Chemistry - 92/A.

Art Portfoilo - 94/A.

Robbie hated low A's. He expected Jackson to make nothing less than a 95%.

I'm retarted. I can't even make a good grade in art! WTF?! I'm so fucked up.

"Jackson!" Robbie yelled from the bottom of the stairs. Jackson jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs as fast as he could, report card in hand.

"Lemme see it." Robbie stuck his hand out. Jackson, very slowly, gave his dad the report card. Jackson looked down at his feet while Robbie read it. Miley, sitting on the couch, giggled, waiting to see what her dad would say to her stupid-ass brother this time.

"You can't even make a good grade in art? Retarted. That's what you are! And a discrase! Imagine what your mother would say if she were here! Why can't you be like Miley? She gets the greatest grades! She's perfect! She balances Lilly and Oliver, school, and Hannah and Hannah's fans. You have nothing to do but just focus on school! And you can't even do that! Why can't you just be like Miley?" Robbie yelled at Jackson.

Jackson, holding in every tear, whispered, "I can't be like Miley."

"And why not?" Robbie asked, hot steam still coming out of his ears.

"Because I'm not smart. And I'm not talented. And I'm not pretty. And I don't have friends." Jackson said quietly.

"That's right, you're not any of those things. And who would want to be friends with you anyway? No one. Go upstairs. And stay there." Robbie said.

Jackson nodded and walked back up the stairs.

"Daddy," Miley said, standing from the couch. "why do we even care about him?"

"Bud, we don't. I just want him to make good grades so he can go to college and get outta my hair forever." Robbie answered.

At the top of the stairs, Jackson let the silent tears fall, then walked to his bedroom.

I won't even make it into college. Besides, college is a whole year away. I'm only 17. Maybe I won't even be around by college time. But if nobody here wants me, nobody anywhere will. So college is pretty out of the question.

At school the next day, police, FBI officals, and a few agents from the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI were talking to the juniors and seniors about becoming future agents and officals and what it would take. At the end of the service, one of the policemen stepped up and said, "And if any of you are having any problems that you believe police could help with, feel free to call us or come down to the station anytime."

Jackson sat there for a moment. Is what goes on at home a problem? He decided against it.

On the way out of the auditorium, he took a business card and a few of the phamplets that they were handing out. One of the BAU agents shook Jackson's hand and said "Tell the police your problem."

Jackson, confused, asked, "What makes you think I have a problem?"

The agent said, "I study human behavior for a living. You seemed very torn about what to do after he said that."

Jackson just nodded his head and said very quietly, "I don't have a problem." And walked away.

A few months went by with Robbie never saying a word to Jackson. Didn't even look at him.

Jackson kept reading and re-reading the phamplets the officers handed out at school. One inparticular.

If you are being abused in anyway (physically, sexually, emotionally, mentally) call 1-800-555-0987, and ask for help. Or come down to your local station. The police are not the enemy, they want to help. They want to make sure that you are safe in any situation.

Jackson thought, I'm not being abused. All of this is my own fault. If I wasn't such an idiot and a screw-up, Dad would love me. I put all this on myself. All of it's my fault. If I was like Miley, he'd love me. If I was smart, and talented, and pretty, he'd love me. But I'm not. So I'm not important enough for him to love me... I'm not important enough for anyone to love me. I don't blame them for not loving me, I mean, look at me. I'm a mess. I'm ugly. I'm retarted. No wonder everyone hates me. I bet Mom didn't even love me. I don't blame her. I don't even love myself.

Jackson walked downstairs. Robbie was sitting on the couch, watching TV. Miley wasn't around. Jackson walked over to his dad and said, "Can I ask you a question?"

Robbie looked up at him. "What do you want?"

Jackson almost cringed at the venom in Robbie's words. "Did you ever love me?"

Robbie thought about this for a moment. Then he turned back to Jackson. "No."

Jackson nodded and saida quiet "okay" and walked back upstairs.

A few weeks later, Robbie and Jackson were in another argument, where Robbie yells at Jackson, and Jackson just takes it.

"You should just die! NOBODY WOULD MISS YOU!" Robbie yelled.

Jackson said, "I know nobody would miss me. I've wanted to die for the longest time."

Robbie stood there, shocked. He never imagined that Jackson would say something like that.

Very calmly and quietly, Jackson said, "Dying would make it all easier. I was going to go to the police, but that would take Hannah away from you and Miley. And that's the last thing that I want to do. But you guys don't want me around. So me dying would make everything easier and better for you. I wouldn't be around and you wouldn't be behind bars. And you're right. I should just die. Because nobody would miss me. Because I'm not important enough for anyone to love me. Because I hate myself. Because you and Miley shouldn't have to worry about me and if I'll screw up again. Because I'm not like Miley. So maybe I'll make it easier for you."

Jackson walked away from Robbie, who just stood there, still shocked.

Jackson drove down to the poilce station. He asked to talk to someone, anyone.

They put him in an empty room with Officer McHale.

Jackson told McHale everything that had been happening in the Stewert's household. Told him everything Jackson felt about himself. Then Jackson said, "But I don't want my dad to be put in jail or anything. Because my little sister needs him. And I don't want to take him away from her."

McHale said he'd have to see what he could work out with a judge and some other officals, but maybe that would happen.

Two months later, Jackson was living in a foster home. He was seeing a theripist three times a week to help undo all the mental abuse he'd been put through for so long.

Robbie had not been put in jail due to Jackson's request. Robbie and Miley were not allowed to see or talk to Jackson for the time being. But after he would make some progress with his therapy, they might get to see each other.

In the end, Jackson learned to love himself, dispite what other's thought or said. He knew that his dad really did love him at one point. And he learned that he wasn't the bad guy. He was just Jackson.

So, whatcha think? The end isn't really as good as I hoped it would've been. But, oh well.

Also, just to let you know, I'm thinking I'm going to make a story for Criminal Minds that will use the same beginning part. So if you happen to read Criminal Minds and open a story later that has the same beginning part, I decided to use it for both. Okay? Good.

Review and make me smile? :D