It had been two years since Oliver's mom and Lilly's dad got married. It had been a year since Lilly died. It was days away from when Oliver would die.

"Oliver, how long has this happened?" I asked, and Oliver turned his head away.

"About two years," He mumbled back, with tears in his eyes.

"Is there any way to stop this from happening?" I asked quietly.

"No, I don't think so," He started, and his mother called his name, "If I do die, I love you."

I felt butterflies in my stomach as he walked away.

"Oliver, wait!" I called, "Let me go too."

"Okay," He said.

We got up to his house and I could hear glass smashing and Oliver's mom and step-dad yelling.

"I hate my life," He mumbled.

"Bye, Miley," He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Bye, Oliver," I replied back.

Oliver walked into his house and I could hear, "Where have you been!? GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

I went over to the window outside his room. I was about to knock on the window when his mom came in.

She slapped him across the face, "Where have you been?"

"On the beach, with Miley," He said weakly back to his mom.

She kneed him in his stomach, and punched his face. He fell to the floor, holding his stomach in pain.

"That'll teach you," She mumbled, walking out the door.

"Oliver!" I whispered and tapped on the window slightly.

"Miley?" He sat up, "what are you doing here?"

"I saw the whole thing, Oliver," I said, blinking back tears.

He opened the window, "My face hurts." There was a cut, right under his right eye.

"She's coming!" He said, closing the window and standing by his bed. I hid again.

His mom walked in. "I'm back," She sang in a mean tone.

He didn't say anything, he was going to be beat up for nothing. His mom kicked his shin.

He grabbed it and said, "Don't you have anything better to do?" She pushed him against the wall, and his head hit the wall hard. He fell down to the ground, unconscious.

She kicked a few more times and left saying, "If you tell anyone, it gets worse."

I saw her drive out of the garage and down the road. When she was gone, I got in Oliver's window and grabbed him. I slung him over my shoulder and walked to my house. I got inside.

"Jackson! Oliver's mom knocked him unconscious! I saw the whole thing!"

Jackson looked at me, then at Oliver, "Call 911."

I quickly did as he said and when hung up, I already heard the sirens in the distance. When our door opened, the paremedics rushed in and put Oliver on a cot-like thing. They rolled him away.

Jackson started running and I followed, "Let's go."

We hopped into his car and followed the ambulance. We drove to the hospital. We got caught in traffic lights so we were way behind them.

Jackson ran up to the front desk, "Where's Oliver Oken?"

"Room 325 on the third floor," The lady replied and we walked off.

"Go,Go, GO! This damn thing!" Jackson said, pushing the button. It was on the seventh floor. "Let's take the stairs," I said, and we walked up three flights of stairs. Well, we ran.

"313, 314,315," Jackson mumbled, "320, 321, 322, 323, 324, 325!"

We calmly walked into his room.

"Miley?" He asked quietly.

"Oliver?" I asked.

"Mmmhmmm," He answered.

"I was going to ask you if you were awake, but that answers that," I said. He laughed.

A nurse walked in and said, "Mr. Oken, we'll take you down and check you out." Oliver smiled.

He sat up and stood up. He could walk just fine. We took him in the elevator. We got down to the main floor and checked him out and left. When we dropped him off at his house, no one was home. I got out and hid in the bushes, like before. After Jackson left, Oliver's mom pulled into their garage. I heard a car door slam, then a few doors in the house. Oliver was in his room again.

His mom walked in, "Well, well, well, who's awake?" He closed his eyes, waiting to be hit.

She punched him in the stomach, and he fell to the ground.

"Get up! GET UP!" He didn't move.

"Damnit, Oliver, get up!" She said, kicking his stomach again.

When he rolled over in pain, she kicked his back.

"MOM! STOP IT!" He screamed.

"Shut the hell up, Oliver," she replied, again, kicking him.

"MOM!" He screamed even louder.

"Damnit, Oliver," She said, kicking him once again.

He stood up and kicked her in the shin and punched her in the gut.

"OLIVER!" She yelled to her boy, who was running from her. He ran right past me.

"Oliver," I said, running after him.

"Miley!" He said, "Can we go to your house?"

"Yes," I replied, and we ran through my front doors.

"Miley? Oliver?" Jackson asked, "What's wrong?"

"My mom," Oliver said.

"Huh?" Jackson asked.

Oliver took off his shirt, revealing big, purple bruises, and lots of cuts.

"Oh my gosh, did your mom do that to you?" Jackson asked.

"And to Lilly," Oliver said.

Jackson's face faded.

"I have to go," Oliver said.

"I'm going too," I said.

Oliver grabbed his shirt and we left. We were walking for a while when I realized it wasn't the direction of his house.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

He turned around and said, "The cemetary."

"Oh," I replied.

He stopped and was staring at a grave. It read:

Lillian

"Lilly"

Grace

Truscott-Oken

March 10th 1992-April 13th, 2007

He sat down beside it.

"You were my only and favorite sister, Lilly, and I really miss you. I will see you soon. I love you, like a sister, like I should," He said.

It was quiet for a minute or two. Oliver laid his head on my shoulder, and tears were trickling down his cheek. After what felt like an hour, but was really 15 minutes, Oliver stood up.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Let's go to the beach," He said and I stood up, too.

"Okay."

He ran and I followed, and soon we were walking along the beach, the waves hitting our feet.

"Sometimes, I think I can see Lilly,"He said, sitting down in the sand.

"Me too," I said.

Right then and there, I kissed him. Not on the cheek, on the lips. I felt butterflies in my stomach. After about 10 seconds, Oliver pulled away.

"Sorry," I said.

"No! Don't be! It's just...I don't want us to fall in love and then I die," He said.

"Oh, okay," I said softly. "But it wouldn't make a difference."

After I said that, he looked at me, as if to say 'You're right,' and leaned in to kiss me. When our lips met, I felt butterflies again, and like they say on movies, fireworks.

He pulled away, "I have to go."

"Bye," I said.

He walked off but he didn't know I was following him. He walked into his house, then into his room and I hid in the bushes, like I have been. His mom came in, and he knew what he was going to get.

"OLIVER!" She yelled.

"Yes?" Oliver looked up, scared. She punched him in the nose, and it started gushing blood. He didn't move. She kicked him in the shin and then threw him against the wall.

"Asshole," He said.

"DAMNIT, OLIVER!" She yelled and kicked him again.

"I HATE YOU! YOU'RE NOT MY MOM! MY MOM WOULDN'T ABUSE ME! MY MOM WOULDN'T TRY TO KILL ME!" He screamed.

She picked him us and threw him to the ground like a toy.

"I hope you're dead!" She yelled.

"WELL I'M NOT!" He screamed at her.

She kicked him hard in the stomach and walked off.

"A KICK ISN'T GONNA KILL ME!" He screamed after her.

She left the house, she drove the car away.

I ran into his house, into his room, kneeling down beside him. "Oliver," I whispered.

"Miley," He barely choked out.

"You're not okay, are you?" I asked.

"No, not really," He whispered.

"I love you, Oliver," I whispered.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

I was hurt. I got up and ran down to the beach. I let my toes sink in the wet sand, waves crashing up against my shins.

"Miley!" I heard someone say.

I turned around, "Oliver?" Oliver was limping down the beach.

He plopped down beside me.

"Miley, I'm running away," Oliver said seriously and very calmly.