A/N: Hello all! So PLL is coming back soon , but it's still a long wait for us die hard fans, so I thought I'd right something to help hold us over until then. This fic follows the current PLL timeline and starts off with the girls being in the Dollhouse and Alison finding out the details. It will probably be a short multi-chapter fic that will end shortly after the girls are rescued and reunited with their family. Please review and share! Thanks so much for reading! Chapter 2 is coming soon.

Alison couldn't fall asleep as per usual. Living in this hell, or jail cell rather, oh who are we kidding same difference really, made it impossible to feel any sense of normality. The essential task of falling asleep became somewhat of a marathon. Every night its sweet release evaded her for hours upon hours until one night it escaped her altogether. Welcome to the rest of your life. Her mind constantly raced with unsettling thoughts. Nightmares that haunted her during the day.

Before the trial the thoughts that kept her up at night were consumed of the mistakes she'd made in life, how horribly she had treated people, her family, her friends. But now that she has been convicted, those thoughts changed to those of the future. The future she would no longer have, growing old with her friends, falling in love, getting married, possibly having children. All things she never took the time to think about before. Alison was always a girl who was set in the present. The future was a construct she did not care to waste her time dreaming about. But now that she was condemned to a life in prison, and the possibility of a future filled with all of life's cliques had been taken from her, Alison couldn't help but think about what could have been, what she would do, and who she would spend that time with.

Although it was the girls who were always first and foremost on Alison's mind in a situation like this. How she wished she hadn't dragged them into this mess, into her train wreck of a life. It was always the girls who made life worth living for Alison, although she sure as hell didn't treat them that way. She let her pride get in the way of the relationships she was secretly desperate to keep. Which ultimately led to them leaving her, as they should have long ago. Alison didn't blame the girls for it either, she was just happy they got out while they could, or so she thought. She had heard the girls were taken in to custody shortly after her conviction. She guess she should have figured that would happen, all the lies and secret the "kept them close" ultimately binded them to the same fate.

It wasn't until Mr. and Mrs. Hastings informed Alison of the girl's abduction that she truly began to realize how tangled their web of lies had become. She felt ridiculous explaining "A" to Spencer's parents, and maybe that's a reason why the girls never told their parents in the first place. The whole thing seemed like something straight out of some new age horror movie. How would anyone believe this was actually happening, especially the police? She couldn't believe "A" had taken them, but then again when has "A" ever disappointed, everything that bitch does defies all laws and humanity.

It was this recent news that has kept Alison awake these past few days. 74 hours since they had been taken. Why hadn't the cops figured out anything yet? As the days grew into nights Alison cried for them, wished for them, and even prayed for them, something Alison has never done in her life. She wasn't a religious person; her family wasn't and therefore wasn't forced to attend church every Sunday unlike the majority of the population of upper-class Roeswood. It wasn't that she didn't believe in God, she just found it hard to believe in a God who allowed a sick son of a bitch like "A" to do such horrible things. But nevertheless, in times like these, as many humans do, believers and non-believers alike she turned to prayer as if it was some sort of final cry for help in a sea of tearful pleas.

She had been lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, in a comatose state, for what felt like hours. Her imagination running wild, images of her friends being tortured and scared, in turned tortured her mind. She didn't even feel the tears that fell down her cheeks, soaking her pillow below. The sobs that racked through her body grew more violent as the tears fell harder. She brought her knees to her chest, clutching tightly as if it was the only thing keeping her from physically falling apart. It was a normal thing these days. Somewhere between the sunset and her eventual 3 measly hours of restless sleep if they ever came, Alison would completely break down. They say the first night is the hardest, but for Alison, the longer she was in there and her friends were held captive the longer and harder she cried. Desperately trying to purge her soul of all the heartache the 5 of them have endured over the years.

She didn't hear the guard walk down the hall to her cell, nor did the sound of the cell door opening register, over Alison's loud sobs. It wasn't until the guard flipped on the lights; Alison even knew someone was there. "Inmate DiLaurentis," the guard projected, scaring Alison nearly to the point of falling off her bed. She quickly brushed the tears from her cheeks and stood up, tall and straight, as if at attention for an army commander. "Grab your things and follow me." She did as instructed without question, severely confused as to what was happening. Little did she know freedom was waiting right around the corner…