AN: Here it is, the sequel to Suicidal Thoughts; although difference is that I'm not using lyrics. I've been writing this since I wrote the other fic, so directly after I published Suicidal Thoughts. Not sure if it will be as good as the last, but whatever. It is multi-chaptered, and has multiple points of view because more than one person is affected.

Disclaimer: I do not own the comedy children's show Victorious, and I don't intend to.

Chapter 1 - Granted; Tori Vega

It's been a week since I find my dead sister on the ground, already lost the battle between life and death. I find out that she took a handful of drugs - heart stopping drugs to be exact. But what broke me down was the last thing I said to her that morning.

No one likes you.

I never meant it; I just wanted her to get out of the bathroom already because the bathroom in my bedroom doesn't have any hot water, at all. My dad decides that it would be best to use his shower for the morning, and in return I was late to school.

But I don't care; I haven't left my own room since I break down that particular door and find my very pale, unresponsive sister on the cold tile floor.

Another sob escapes my throat as I realize from the past few days that my sister was alive, I've been treating her like shit. I keep insulting her whenever I had the chance because I feel that since I have the upper hand this time from my sister's narcissistic personality, that I can break her and she would change. However, what my comments (and my friends' comments) have done to her was destroy her emotionally, and build a wall around everyone, becoming more glib, grandiose, and selfish.

She wasn't always like that; it progressed more when I got to Hollywood Arts and suddenly she saw me as a threat rather than a sister (whether that was part of the mask or her true nature, I will never know) and wants to hang out more with my friends rather than with her friends. But my friends reject her, and I start to do the same.

People would find out we are related and ask me, 'How are you two related? she's so untalented' and I would indirectly agree with them. I couldn't find a single thing that was talented about my sister; she couldn't dance, or sing, or do anything that was worth value within the school. Why they never expelled her, I fail to understand.

The comments start to get worse: 'you're a nuisance' and 'no one likes you' were the ones that are very common. I never said them directly, mind you, but when they were said, I never backed my older sister up. She never backed up for me, so why should I do the same for her?

Fuck, I'm so ungrateful; I completely forgot that it was my sister who got me into Hollywood Arts, if it wasn't for the Talent Showcase that she couldn't sing at because of her swollen tongue. She started my whole life, and what do I do in return; I insult her and pretend that she's a roommate rather than a sister.

I hear a soft knock at my door - "Go away," I say.

The request is ignored, and my parents walk in. "I want to be alone," I frown.

"Tori, you've been alone for the past week," my father points out. It's like they don't care that their first-born died in the bathroom a week ago. "Don't you think you should go back to school?"

I shake my head no. "No, I'm not ready to go back to the same place where my sister was a laughing stock."

"Your teachers are getting worried about your education—"

"Of course, because they don't care that the biggest reason why I'm at that school is gone!" I yell, causing both of my parents to jump. "No one cares that my big sister is gone. You two didn't even want to have a funeral for your first born! How can everyone be so heartless, especially you two? I expected more from the both of you, but no, it will 'cost too much'. Yeah right, you know that you didn't want to have a proper burial for Trina because you've never loved her. Why did you put up a front to everyone else?"

They look at each other puzzled, then back at me. The obvious silence proves that I'm completely right - no one in this house, or at that school, or in the world, cared about her. Now I understand why she put up a front: no one would pay any attention to her. Once I was born, her only child status died, and all of the attention was diverted from her. Even as we got older, no one would give a second glance at my sister. She was teased and belittled for being the untalented older sister, or the uglier older sister.

"I see why she wanted to kill herself," I growl. "Was she just a mistake to the both of you? Was her existence in the family just so you can have a child to be disappointed about? Was she just a waste of sperm and egg to you two?"

"Don't you dare say—"

"Don't I dare?" My voice gets higher, in an octave that rivals Trina's. "Think about it: you never really cared for her. It was all about me, my whole life, with no second glance to Trina. It was never about her and me. It was just about me and she just filled the void of the extra room in the house. She's a waste of space to you two, huh? Like when she said she wanted to go to a faraway college, and you two encouraged her. I said the same thing and you two frown, talking me out of it. When Trina was getting teased in school, you two would just brush it off, saying that 'kids will be kids' but when I got pushed into a mud puddle by some kid in middle school, you called the school board, demanding to know who the person's parents were. When you two found out that she was getting expelled and not me, you two looked so relieved. When she tries to find something new, and she excels at it, you don't congratulate her. You two were so used to her being such a failure and a screw up that you failed to notice that she actually had a god damned talent. She was just a waste of space, and you two felt relieved when I told you two that she took her own life. You didn't want her to be cremated, or buried; nothing. Why should you two care about me, if you didn't care about her?"

I hold back another sob, as the unnerving silence hits me again, "She changed my life, and no one noticed. I took her for granted. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

I glare at my parents, who have a stunned look on their face.

"We cared about your sister," my father starts. "It's just that... well, she was losing touch with reality and she didn't know when to stop."

"So you condone her suicide, is that what you're saying?" I ask, feeling another round of anger surge through me, and I swear, I see a flash of red flicker in my eyes. "Because she has a bit of an identity crisis, or that she wants to do something that makes her happy, she's crazy? You didn't even call her by her first name. Was she even your child, or was she a mistake by some other bitch you decide to knock up before you met mom?"

"What?" They yell.

"I will not tolerate this language from you!" My mother screeches. "Now, she came from my own womb, with your father's DNA."

"Really?" I raise my eyebrow. "Are you sure it was dad's, or some other guy who you decided to—"

Before I know it, I feel a hand crash against my cheek. It's the first time my mom has ever put her hands on me, and I stand there, stunned, catatonic, unable to move from the shock. I glance at my angry mom, and cast my head down.

"Get the hell out of my room," I whisper.

The danger from my tone makes my father jump, and grab my mother's hand, practically dragging her out of the room. As soon as my parents leave, I sit back on my bed, and start to sob for the umpteenth time in the day.