Summary: They say lightening never strikes twice in the same place but they were wrong.

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or its characters. I'm just a fan who is trying her hand at fanfiction.

History Always Repeats Itself

By: Liv

She sits at her vanity, barely recognizing the person staring back at her. Her life wasn't supposed to be like this. She was the epitome of popularity. She had everything a 17 year old could want. She was the girl that all the guys wanted on their arm and the one that the other girls wished they were. She was the head cheerleader, she was dating the captain of the basketball team, and she had a best friend who knew her better than anyone. They shared everything, clothes, make-up, music, their fears and their dreams, they were more than friends, they were sisters. She looks at her eyes, they're bloodshot from crying and the skin around them hurts. It's raw and chapped. The pictures adorning her mirror catch her eye. The three of them were always together. In every picture they all had smiles on their faces. She wondered if they were sneaking behind her back during the time all of those pictures were taken. She couldn't bring herself to ask the question of when they betrayed her, all she could focus on was that they had.

She pulls the picture closest to her down and stares at it. The picture is one of all of them standing in front of his car. His arms wrapped around her waist and her best friend to her left. She remembers feeling like the luckiest girl in the world that day. She had the two people who meant everything to her on either side of her and they all liked each other. Her best friend never approved of any of her previous boyfriends. She always said they weren't good enough, but this one was different. She curses herself for being so naïve. Of course this one was different, of course she approved, she wanted him for herself but she couldn't admit it, even when she was asked point blank. She focuses on the picture again, and with two swift movements rips the backstabbing exes out of her life. She decides to keep the part that has her in it; after all, she looked great that day.

She can hear her mother downstairs getting dinner ready and when she says getting dinner ready she means ordering take-out. Her father is away, yet again, supposedly on a business trip. She once heard her mother ask him when did a business trip include massages, jewelry, dancing and his 24 year old secretary. She hadn't waited around to hear her father's answer. Looking back, she wonders if she is destined to have the same fate? Is she destined to repeat the life of her mother? Would she be stuck in a loveless marriage? Would she be stuck in a marriage of convenience? Would she end up alone? At this point, she wasn't sure which one sounded more worse. She hated being alone. She never really believed in love, which changed when he came along, she was sure she could learn to pretend that it never existed if it meant she wouldn't be alone. Her mother did it. She could too. She is her mother's daughter.

She takes down the rest of the pictures and puts them in a box. She can't bring herself to throw them away. She knows that these are all of the memories she has left and if it was anyone else who had hurt her she would burn every memory they ever shared, but its different with these two. Because even though they betrayed her, she still wants to remember what they once had. Things will never be the same but the past wasn't all bad and years down the line, although she knows that she will never forgive them, she would like to look back at the good times they shared and think fondly of them. When she has exhausted herself with tears and has finished cleansing her room of any sign of the two lovers, she wanders around the house. She finds herself drawn to the attic. This is her safe place. When she was younger she would escape to the attic to block out the fighting between her parents. No one knew about this place. She once thought about bringing her best friend up here but decided against it. This was all hers. No one could hurt her here. No one was welcome here. In this place, it was just her against the world.

She sits on the window seat and looks out at the neighborhood. She realizes that in all of her 17 years on this street and in this house, most of the memories she has are ones of sadness and pain. That realization, coupled with everything she is going through, just breaks her and she beings crying all over again. She surprises herself with these new tears. She didn't think she had any more left in her. She sees a box full of colorful envelopes sitting in the corner. She doesn't remember putting that box there. She wonders how it got there. She walks over to the box and is taken aback. She counts 86 letters total. She gently carries the box back to her seat and starts with the first letter hoping to lose herself and forget about her pain.

As she makes her way through the box she is amazed at how raw and real the emotions in these letters are. She loses herself in the words and the feelings, its as if she is reliving the moments all over again. Her heart breaks for the woman who wrote these words, for the man they were written for and for the love they once shared. She can't believe how honest and vulnerable the woman who wrote them was and wonders what happened to her. She no longer recognizes this woman and she finds herself wishing she could get her back. There are details of feelings that were long suppressed, feelings of regret and dreams of the future. She even finds a couple of pictures in the box. She identifies with the words on the pages and for the first time in what seems like forever, she finds comfort. She realizes the importance of love and for the first time understands the saying, "It is better to have loved and to have lost than to have never loved at all." By the time she has read the last letter she has a newfound respect for the woman who wrote them. She puts the letter back in the box and carefully returns the collection back to the table.

She makes her way down the stairs and simply stares at her mother in her study, working on the designs for her Clothes over Bros fall fashion line. She can't believe that this woman was the voice behind those beautiful, heart filled letters. She wonders if it was the loss of her first and only love that has made her mother so cold and so bitter, or if it's more complicated than that. She wonders if her father is to blame for the way her mother has turned out or if her mother is to blame for her father's infidelity.

Growing up she always vowed she would never be anything like her mother, that all changed earlier today. Reading those letters, she realized that she and her mother are the same. They both lost the man that changed them for the better, the one man that loved them, and the one man that taught them how to love to their best friends. They say lightening never strikes twice in the same place but they were wrong, she and her mother are proof of that. After all, She is her mother's daughter and history always repeats itself.