AN: So, it's been a while since I've written anything for this site. The other day I found myself missing this series and figured, "What the hell?!" lol So here is the prologue.. gives you a little background into Spencer's life, past, ect. Ash isn't in the picture yet... but if I get enough readers... (reviews are awesome)... then I'll be posting Ch. 1 tomorrow night. Anyways, I'm done ranting. I love you guys, and I'd love to hear what you think. Take care.

Disclaimer: I do not own South of Nowhere, nor do I own the characters Spencer, Ashley, or Kyla. I do, however, own this plot. Whether that's something I should be ashamed / proud of.. I'll let you beautiful people decide. :)

Save Me

Preface

"It's not this town's fault that he's gone. You do realize that, right?" I'm so tired of fighting. If the loaded car behind me doesn't display my exhaustion with life in general, the expression I wear as Skylar continues her lecture is transparent enough. I could try to explain to her that I don't blame this town. I could attempt to make her understand that every corner of Pensacola, Florida holds a memory that grabs me by the heart and snatches me to the ground. Although the memories have every intention of following me to Panama City, the reminders won't be there to help take me down. I'll finally be able to move on.

She has every right to be angry. I'm not the only one that lost someone. She lost her sister the moment I lost my brother. Although our siblings falling in love with one another added a bit of irony to our friendship, we never let it affect us. When Jake and Emily had their weekly bickering match, I would simply pretend it wasn't my brother fighting with my best friend's sister; although, I would have taken Emily's side every time. Jake was more into the idea of a relationship than the reality of one. He never really thought he should have to answer to anyone. I mean, I loved my brother, but he could be your average asshole. Skylar and I just always stayed out of it, and that always seemed to work for us. Well, at least until after the accident. Neither of us knew whom to blame, so we started swinging at one another. It took us until now, almost a year after losing them, to understand it was nothing either of us could have prevented.

"I mean, who's going to iron your clothes?! I know you Spence! You'll throw them in the dryer every morning and call them wrinkle-free!" I laugh despite myself as her desperate rambling continues in an attempt to change my mind. She has been my roommate for two years and my best friend for five. She knows me inside and out. Some days I wonder just how much she knows. I wonder if she is aware of even the things I've chosen not to tell her. The things I've chosen not to tell anyone. I push the concern to the back of my mind and finally interrupt her speech.

"Sky! You're turning blue!" I laugh. "My clothes will get along just fine, and so will I." I look at her for a moment, knowing by her expression exactly what she is about to say.

"What about me? Have you even stopped long enough to consider how the hell I'm going to manage without you?"

"Of course I have!" I snap. That is the only reason I stuck around all year Skylar. I can't do it anymore. You've always been the strong one. You know that. Besides, you have a whole new life to look forward to." I smile as I pat her stomach and the little person growing inside. "When you told me about the baby and about Tommy moving in, I knew it was time for me to do what I have to in order to breathe again. You have a lot going for you. I need that, and I'm not going to find it here."

She doesn't say anything for a long time. We both alternate between staring at our feet and staring at my black Honda civic in the driveway. "You'll call every day?" she mumbles as she hops up onto the hood of my car.

"Every day," I smile in confirmation. "You'll come down every chance you get?" I question in return. She laughs.

"You're going to be living ten minutes away from one of the most beautiful beaches in the southeast, Spence. I'll be around." I jokingly slap her on the arm.

"Get off my car so I can get the hell out of here already." She sends a shocked, playfully hurt look my way before jumping down, holding the unborn steady as she does so.

"Go already. I'm tired of looking at you." She smiles.

"I bet you are." Again, silence. This time filled with a thousand words.

"Love you Sky."

"Love you too freak."

It's a bittersweet feeling: One I've been anticipating since I woke up this morning. Although I am leaving behind the things that tear me apart day after day, I'm also leaving behind the one thing, or person rather, that holds me together. As Skylar becomes smaller and then almost invisible in my rear-view mirror, I do my best to keep my emotions under control. This is a new start, I remind myself. Things will be easier now.

I turn my radio up, allowing the latest from Kings of Leon to fill the empty space. I don't look at the park as I progress closer to the interstate. I don't let myself glance over the bay as I cross the bridge I once jumped off of to prove I was invincible. I don't let my mind navigate. I choose to stay in control.

And then I see them. It's a subconscious move: letting my eyes wander to the curb as I merge onto the onramp. It takes the color from my face as well as the breath from my lungs. Two crosses shoved into the ground, side by side, seem to both whisper and scream my name. I ignore them. In thoughtless motion, much like glancing in a direction I knew would send an unbearable pain through my chest, I take the small piece of paper from my glove box. It's a note I've read a thousand times, yet each time it makes me feel differently. While it answers the most important question my heart has ever asked, it provokes more mystery than answers. It leaves me with questions I'll never get to ask. Time didn't permit.

While placing my treasure back into its hideaway, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. If someone hadn't seen me since last year, they wouldn't think I was the same girl now. I look sick, deathly even. My tan has been replaced by an uneven gray tone that can only be blamed on my being too much of a coward to leave the apartment lately. Even Skylar managed to get out enough to keep a summer glow. My hair carries the impression that I woke up and climbed into the car with no regards to the fact that I would scare small children. Though my green eyes use to get more compliments than any other aspect of my physical being, they look almost gray now. My therapist even compared them to a storm brewing. Well, if I need a therapist, there is obviously a problem. It doesn't take an insightful genius to see that. I guess troubled foster children shouldn't go without frequent mental observation. I laugh aloud to myself, remembering Jake's sarcastic take on the government's hand always guiding us in the most inconvenient directions. Inconvenient, that is, until it sent us towards Skylar and Emily.

My hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. I clench my teeth. My physical appearance isn't the only thing that has changed. I'm cold where I was once warm. Thoughtless where I was once considerate. Vulnerable when I was once seen as invincible. Well, it may have been only a self-perception, but I was happy with that image. I was once hopeful; now I'm desperate. I was found, just to lose my way again.

I escape to the words engraved deeply into that small piece of paper. Guilt washes over me as always. I begin thinking of how ironic it is that the best morning of my life was followed by my world falling apart that afternoon. I wonder how long I would have waited on that park bench if Tommy hadn't found me. I wonder, if none of this had happened, how many people I would have hurt in my own selfish attempt at happiness. I wonder if Jake would have forgiven me. I wonder if Skylar would have forgiven me.

I say the words over and over again in my head, knowing they shouldn't make me feel better; but they always do. I accelerate, more anxious than ever to put miles and miles between my old life and myself. Trying to run away from secrets I keep folded up in my car. Secrets that scream even louder than the music I blare: louder than the wind rushing past my windows. I smile despite myself as the tears find me. I knew they would. But somehow, it's ok. I'll be ok. I can see the unforgettable handwriting in the clouds as I drive. I can hear her say the words through the music; and somehow, I know I'll be ok.

"I think I'm in love with you too." – Emily