Okay. So this is my first Spashley story. I'm not sure if it's any good. I'm not even sure where it's going exactly. I just felt like writing, and this is what came of it. I hope to have the next chapter up soon.

Oh yeah! Some reviews would be nice, you know, constructive criticism and whatnots. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no Spashely, no South, no Kyla, no Jack's Mannequin, not even stupid Aiden. Just my crazy cool checkered glasses. So please don't sue. I'd probably cry.

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It had been month's since Ashley had been able to string a simple sentence of words together. She had become a shell of the girl she once was. She had had it all, everything, but that was then, and this is now. Now she had nothing, nobody, just her and her music; which had been lacking lately, to say the least.

As she sat at her piano she began to bat aimlessly at her piano, listening to the traffic and the people walking by on that warm L.A. morning. A melody began playing itself; it had been one that she had been playing for 14 months now, one that refused to leave her mind no matter how hard she tried. She had spent minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months attempting to figure out the melody. What about it was so important? She had no clue, but she did know that she could not remove it from her head.

She had attempted to put words to the song, but nothing ever came. She couldn't speak, let alone write. Every time she did she could only think of one thing. And she could not let her mind wander to that. She had tried so hard to avoid that thing that she eventually blocked everything and everybody out. She had lost contact with nearly everybody. She had disappeared after hearing the news.

She had her routine down, it was the same every day, and it had been the same since she had moved into this one bedroom apartment by the boardwalk. Wake up, shower, sit at the piano, and play the same tune over and over again. The tune that would not leave, it was as if it was trying to tell her something. After successfully torturing herself with the tune, she would drink herself to oblivion and forget about the emptiness that was now her life.

It didn't really matter what it was trying to tell her, because she wasn't ready for its answer. She couldn't be ready for the answer to the melody. It would mean more than she wanted it to. It would bring up past hurts and future heartbreak.

So she did the only thing she knew how to: she sat at her piano that late Monday afternoon, playing the beautiful melody over and over again.

7 months earlier

'Ashley, it's me, Kyla. Look, you haven't been answering my calls or responding to my e-mails. I wish you would just tell me that you were okay. I just…I miss you, I'm always here for you Ash, no matter what. I love you.'

It had been another pointless day for Ashley. She had been receiving these calls from her younger sister at least once a week since she had decided to leave her home and disappear. She had just wanted a place where she could be and not have to think about everything, a place where she could look around and not be reminded of how her life used to be. Maybe it was wrong to not tell anybody she was leaving. Maybe it was wrong to not tell anybody where she was or if she was even alive, but she couldn't take their sympathy anymore. She wanted nothing more than to erase the looks of pity out of those closest to her.

She wanted things to go back to the way they were when her life was easier and she was happy and free, but she knew that could never happen. Life had chosen its path, and Ashley was not included in it, not matter how much she had desperately wanted to be included. It had been seven months since that fateful day, seven months to the day.

She decided to lace up her shoes and take a short walk down to the beach.

She had chosen her apartment for the simple fact that it was close enough to walk to the beach. This was the only place that Ashley had ever felt like home to her. A place that was her own, where she could listen to the wave's crash and watch the beautiful sunset and pretend for a moment that she was in the life she had always wanted.

As she wandered down the street she pulled out a cigarette. She knew it was a nasty habit, especially for a singer, but she could care less at this point in time. It was her release and a rush all at the same time. She took a long pull off of the cigarette and exhaled slowly. Her fingers had begun to tingle and she couldn't help but smile. It was the only thing she could ever really feel anymore, and that was okay with her. It was the only feeling she welcomed into her mind and to her body.

She found a spot down on the beach, it was late fall and night time so the beach was empty, the way she liked it; nobody to look at her with pity, nobody to ask her if she was okay. It was her getaway.

She didn't know how long she had sat at the beach, but she was becoming restless. This feeling came every once in a while, this overwhelming sense to see what her life could have been. So she listened to her heart instead of her head and grabbed the next bus to the city.

The bus pulled over at the stop and Ashley pensively walked down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. This is where her history had taken place; this is where she had so many memories. Her feet began moving on their own accord, and as her head screamed and begged her to stop; her heart was telling her to move forward.

She had stopped outside of a two story house and stared inside the front window into the living room. It was nicely lit and from the outside she could see six figures sitting on the couches inside. Six figures, five people she used to know all too well, five figures of people she used to consider her loved ones, and one figure that she hated. She hated that sixth figure because that sixth figure had what she wanted, that sixth figure had her heart in her possession.

The figures were circled around a coffee table in the front room just talking and laughing. Ashley's heart began to beat a little slower at the next sight. The sixth, unknown, figure leaned over and kissed her heart. She had kissed her heart as if nothing else mattered in the world. And in that moment Ashley was sure that her heart had stopped beating. It was that final straw that broke her.

She was ripped out of her thoughts by the sound of a door opening, and as she looked up, she knew that she should have listened to her head instead of her heart. She should have been protecting herself.

The figure walked closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder, 'Ashley? We've been looking all over for you! Where were you?!' Ashley couldn't tear her eyes from the scene in front of her, the two figures, and in that moment she realized she had lost it all. Nothing would ever be the same.

The second she snapped out of it she realized that Kyla had been talking to her this whole time, starting a panic, and in that second she had noticed a second figure standing in the doorway. She knew who it was; she could feel her eyes on her. She could smell her scent. It was too much to take, she turned around and ran. She ran until she couldn't run anymore. She ran until her lungs burned and she felt like she was going to pass out.