I was really reluctant to post this new story. I literally had it all planned and prepped after I finished Troubled Teens but during English class my teacher said that if an author can write a well written book from the characters POV, the story is already 100x better. And being the classic person knowing that music producing is most likely not going to happen, writing is my second choice. So I've decided to write this story in 1st person, although I still have it written in 3rd also.

This story is something that I've wanted to try. It's rated M because it revolves around depression in teens. There are no sex scenes but there are going to be times where suggestive content MAY be written. Although I don't know what it feels like to be a self-harmer, suicide thinker, or being depressed, I do have friends who have or who are going through this. I don't know how I got my inspiration to write this.

I'm also going to tell you now that until I'm well ahead of my school work, there will be no scheduled updating, so I won't update when asked in a review, I won't update if I'm PMed, or if you beg me. It's terribly hard to write in first person, because this chapter alone took me two months, and I'm starting to fall behind on school.

SO IF THERE IS A MONTH OR TWO MONTH UPDATE BETWEEN CHAPTERS I AM SO INCREDIBLY SORRY

Having said that, if you still wish to continue with this story, please, go on.

I do not own Austin and Ally or any of its characters. All rights go to Disney and its creators. I only own the plot and anything that I make up along the way.

Chapter 1

"Fuck." I inhaled a sharp breath as the angry red line pierced my skin for the second time in a week. The cold metal and the stinging sensation brought relief to me, in ways I won't ever understand. I was smart enough to not cut deep just so white scars wouldn't appear on my so called perfect flesh, but who am I kidding? I'm not perfect, heck, no one is. So why should my skin be perfect? I've tried flicking an elastic band around my wrist. But that wasn't strong enough. I needed something to remind me about the pain that I'm going through. Something strong enough to tell me that this is my not so perfect life, but something so, unrealistic of me, so that no one would wonder. Wonder why I've changed. Or wonder why my parents are hardly ever home, at the same time. But as I said, no one's perfect.

You know, its hard, to not scream. To not tell anyone that I'm a self harmer. But then again, it's hard to not keep that secret. I mean, they would think I'm crazy, right? That I'm an attention whore? Yeah, no. I wish I got no attention at all, but that's hard, being an only child and all.

You know, I actually don't know why I started. Maybe it was my parents and their constant fighting, pretending that I wasn't in the room, or that I wouldn't hear it, which is dumb, really, since these walls aren't soundproof. Or was it those notes telling me I was just a poser, a wannabee, that I wasn't wanted in this world? That I was just another pawn in his game? Maybe they were just jealous of me, having the hottest boy in school at my fingertips. But that can be it, can it?

I mean, I do have Trish. She knows me inside out like the back of her hand. But then...her protectiveness would get the best of her. Sometimes she chooses to use her big mouth of hers, because she think's its the right choice. To tell the truth, that is. But we all know who she's going to tell first.

Okay, I've got to admit, not telling Austin is the hardest thing about slipping into whatever stage I'm in right now. I want to tell him, because that's what couples are for, right? 'What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine'. I don't want this, whatever this is, to be his. They say that a couple who's been dating for over five months supposedly mean that they're in love. It's been nine months, and I'm almost positive it's ten tomorrow. So I guess we're in love, right? I haven't said a word though, not about loving him, but about 'this', so does that mean that I'm not in love with him, as much as he is with me? That might be the truth, but sometimes, the truth, shouldn't be told.

Too bad I can't tell my parents. They're probably going to finalize the divorce sooner anyways. Divorce just adds to the pressure, you know? No, don't look at me like that. Don't tell me that my parents are 'cute', or 'adorable'. What do you know about them? Just because they treat you way better than they treat me doesn't mean they're the 'perfect couple'. If they were perfect, then they wouldn't be wanting a divorce. If they were perfect, they wouldn't fight in front of their daughter, their only daughter to be exact. If they were perfect, both would be supportive of whatever you want to achieve in life. But they're not. Not even close.

"Mom!" I exclaimed when she walked through the front door one morning. "Dad! I'm home!" I slipped my backpack off my shoulder and headed over to the kitchen to grab a quick snack.

"We are sending her to that school no matter what!" I stopped pouring juice. When my parent's talk about me, I would like to know.

"We don't have the money to send her to that school though!" Lester, explained. "It's way too expensive, plus living in New York is already half of her tuition!"

"Yes but MUNY has accepted her application! She could be one of the best songwriters in the world!" Penny responded. I gasped softly, a smile formed on my face. I couldn't wait to tell Austin the fantastic news. My dreams are starting to become a reality.

"But its a music school!" He retorted back. "How do we know that the money won't go to waste!"

"Allison's passion for music is so strong! Look at what she helped Austin achieve in three years! He's a rising pop star because of her!"

"I don't care about that! Ally's going to have another job! It's not permanent! Plus she can't go anyways!"

"We can make this work!" My mom said. "I can move here permanently! I could work at the museum and get good money! We could send her there with a decent apartment!"

"It wouldn't matter anyways. She has so much potential! Music is nothing."

"Music is everything to her! Why are you so persistant of not sending her to MUNY?!"

"Because I declined the invitation the minute I saw that letter." I shrunk, biting my lip to keep myself from crying. Who would've thought, my own father, owner of the biggest music store in Miami, denying an acceptance letter from the best school on the east coast. Best music school. "She has so much more potential than being a songwriter." He spat out. "She's going to MSLF, Medical School of Florida. Ally can earn more than what she could get if she was in the music buisness. I'd rather see her make it, then fail it."

Just reminiscing about that day makes me cut. Your own dad, going behind your back so his dreams can be made a reality so I can live a successful life. Well he thought wrong. I slipped my blade back into my pocket. You thought cutting was a one time thing, huh? Actually, its been a three month thing, but no one really needs to know that. But don't worry, I'm a good girl, so I do wash my cuts after. Its not like I wanna die. Yet.

You know what place is safe? By the way, its not in Austin's arms. My room, because it has a lock, plus its soundproof. I can listen to music without a care in the world and pretend that my life is perfect, just like the way everyone else thinks it is.

Even though they owned the best music store in Miami, it's only one store. They just don't seem to get it, do they. Humans tend to remember the bad stuff about a person much more longer than they remember the good stuff. Don't get me wrong, its possible to remember the good stuff about a person. I mean, I sure did used to know the good stuff about my parents, until they got so consumed with work. After that fight, my dad began to work longer shifts at Sonic Boom. My mom found a part time job at the zoo. At first, I thought everything was fine. I knew we needed more money, so I just let it slide. Until I saw that huge pile of bills top of bills top of bills. A store filled with expensive instruments and regularly paid workers, with electricity and rental bills piling up on their desk. Along with the necessities, education and the occasional leisure time, there was hardly any money leftover. And with college coming up in two years, her family is struggling to find enough money to use to send their only child to her dream University, MUNY, if she ever got in, well her mom at least. The money to run the store, the house bills, how much money we spent on food, clothes, my education. And with college only two years away, I knew how much my mom wanted to send me to MUNY. But really at this point, I'm willing to give it all up.

"Honey?" A voice sounded on the other side of the door, a knocking pattern being banged against the wooden surface. "May I come in?"

"It's open!" I shouted, removing my ear buds. A short woman in her forties walked in, her short red dyed hair covering her slim structure, her eyes red from crying.

"I'm sorry you had to hear all that." My mother said, standing at the foot of my bed. I looked at her with an emotionless face.

"I'm sorry I had to hear that too." I mumbled back. She sighed.

"I know that life has been more difficult these past few weeks, but your dad and I are going to try our best to make it work."

"You're going to try or you will?" I asked, with an edge clearly in my voice. "Because that had been your response to everything these past few weeks. 'Im going to try my best'. Really mom? Try? Was that supposed to be reassuring? Because it isn't."

"Don't talk to me like that young lady." She quickly responded back. "I am your mother and you have no right to talk to your mother like that!" An eerie silence filled the tension in the room.

I sighed. "This is the part where you leave the room banging the door closed." I said, breaking the ice. She sighed and grabbed the door handle.

"Trust me, we all know what you're going through." My mom whispered before shutting the door closed. I scoffed. 'Sure they do' I know what knows what I'm going through. I picked up my tattered book and opened it to a fresh new page.

Dear Journal,

It kind of sucks, that my parents haven't noticed yet. I think I'm doing a good job on hiding them. I mean, I don't want Team Austin to find out, right? I would be dead...not literally, but I think you know what I mean. Trish is going to go on a rampage, Dez is going to go all serious and 'shrinky' on me, and Austin's going to be super protective and have me under his vision, not that I wouldn't mind. It's kind of funny on how my parents haven't even had the skeptics to even ask me about it yet. Let's see how long it's going to take them before it's too late.

Ally

I closed my precious journal, my only comfort, and grabbed the larger brown leather bound book that was right beside my journal. Something that Team Austin doesn't know about are the death threats. I know, its stupid, its naive, and I shouldn't be very effected by them. But they're handwritten, hatred filled notes, each with a different penmanship.

Do you know how hard it is to read threats from people you've known for almost your whole life? Then suddenly they hate you, and you have no choice but to accept it. I grabbed the handful of messages that I got this morning and I glued it under some pictures I took today. You little skank. It read. He doesn't need you, none of them do. Go. My friends always think that they know what happens in my life. They think its full of music, happiness, family love, and Austin. I think they confused me with another Ally.

I closed the scrapbook and reopened it, flipping through the pages since the beginning, Go to hell cunt, with a picture of Dez's body with a tuba head. I bet you walk home because your parents are too ashamed to pick you up from school, under a photo of Austin and I on our first date to the beach. As I flip through the pages, I keep telling myself that these are all lies, that they're just putting me down. But after flipping through the book with a dry face, I don't know what to think anymore, because for the first time in a year, no tears fell down my face.

Stay Rydelicious!

-MJ