I heard this song and the idea for this popped into my head. I hope that you like it, and the song is by Remy Zero. The second part of the song will be in the next chapter…provided of course you guys want a second chapter. Let me know. I'm supposed to be studying for finals which start Monday and are the bane of my existence, but I'm procrastinating…so…here you go!

Disclaimer: Neither the song or the characters belong to me. However I do own a Western Civilization book that I bought for $80 and will probably sell it back for $6. So if you do sue me, I can give you a whole $6!

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She held the photograph in her hands and ran her fingers over the smiling people in the framed picture. They looked so happy. Was it possible that they were ever that happy? Was there a time that they were all okay? Things hadn't been okay in so long that she doubted she would even recognize okay anymore.

How had her life turned out like this? This was not how she had planned her life to be. Then again, whose life ever turned out like they planned?

But she had plans for herself. Big plans. Plans that did not include drinking herself stupid every night because she just couldn't face reality. Reality had gotten way too harsh, and she needed to escape. No, her plans had not included an escape hatch. How stupid of her to think that life would be fair and kind to her.

Plans that also did not include her family crumbling around her. She was left to pick up the pieces. She didn't even know where to start trying to put things back together. And she didn't want to be the one to put things back together. She didn't want to keep having to apply a little more glue which would never hold.

God, she was a mess. She hated this. She hated everything about her life. She screamed and threw the picture against the wall, and the glass shattered and she fell to her knees ignoring the splinters of glass that were now cutting her legs. She picked it back up and pulled the picture out of the frame. She covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed. Rocking back onto her heels, she slowly got to her feet still clutching the photo in her hand.

Her husband. He loved her once, right? He used to tell her that he knew that he was meant to be with her the moment that he laid eyes on her. How many times had he said,

"I love you so much, you know that right?" And how many times had she believed it. He loved her. As long as he loved her everything would be okay.

Nothing was okay. Because he was gone. She could remember exactly how it felt to lay in his arms as he held her and whispered that he loved her. That he would love her forever.

Why had she believed that? Why had she trusted that he would always be there for her? Why hadn't she made alternate plans? Plans that didn't include him?

Because she loved him. Still. Always.

Her smiling sons. Did they love her? That one was a little trickier. They loved her once, surely, but still? She wasn't so sure about that one.

And how awful. To not know if your sons still loved you or not. That's how bad things had gotten for her.

She loved them. She thought about them always. Every drink she took, she thought of them. All three of them. Her husband and her sons. She thought of what she could have done differently to change things.

All day long the what if's ran through her head. It made her nauseous thinking about it. Thinking about all the things that she could have done differently. All the things that she could have made better if she had known how things were going to turn out. Someone should have told her. Someone should have warned her.

But that's how these things always were, right? All the could of, would of, should of's didn't change anything. It just made everything seem so much worse.

Holding the photo, she went into the bathroom and pulled out the bottle of pills. She went back into the living room and poured herself another shot of vodka.

It would all be over soon. The wishing that she could have done things differently. Wanting another chance to be able to do things over again, wanting a second chance more than anything else. Well, that second chance was taking way too long, and she just couldn't wait any more.

It hurt way too much to wait anymore.

Hey are you lonely?

Summer's gone so slowly

We found the ground

And that damage is done

It's cold as you fade into the sun

Where'd you go tonight?

She was sorry that she had to do this. She was sorry that it had come to this. She was sorry for the pain that her sons would feel when they got the phone call that she was dead. She was sorry that she was going to do that to them.

She wasn't sure how they would react. She wasn't sure if they would be angry with her for putting them through more, or if they would grieve for her. It had been so long since she had seen or talked to either one of them.

She wanted to hold them one more time. She wanted to tell them that she loved them, that she had always loved them, and that she was so damn sorry. She thought about leaving a note for each of them. She would write one for her husband too. Explaining why, and to tell them each individually how much she loved them. Tell them each what it was that she loved about them the most. But in the end, she just couldn't.

Instead she left one note. It was simple. She folded it and left it on the table next to her wedding ring.

"I'm sorry. And I love you."

But you're alive

Well it's only

Fallen frames, they told me

You stand out, it's so loud

And so what if it is?

It's cold as you face into the wind

Where'd it go to?

Tonight the sun shall see it's light

The phone rang in the Cohen house and Kirsten, being the only one home, reached over and grabbed it.
"Hello?" When they asked for Ryan Atwood, Kirsten frowned slightly. "He's at school. This is foster mother, can I help you?" Her breath caught in her throat and she managed to mumble,

"Thank you, I'll tell him," before hanging up and immediately calling Sandy at work.

"Sandy Cohen's office," his secretary Jennifer said.

"Hey, Jen, this is Kirsten, is he there?"

"Oh, hi, Kirsten! Yeah, hang on one second." Kirsten waited for a minute until she heard Sandy's voice.

"Hey gorgeous, what's up? Are you enjoying your day off?"

"Sandy, you need to come home."

"What's the matter?" His heart began to race. "Are you okay? Are the boys okay?"

"Just, please…come home." Sandy told Jen as he was running out that he had to go home, and jumped into his car. Thousands of scenarios were running through his head, and none of them were good. Kirsten hadn't assured him that she was okay, and so he was panicking, as he always panicked when it came to her or the boys. He ran at least four stop signs as he sped home. When he pulled into the driveway, the door flew open and Kirsten stood there.

When Sandy reached her, he noticed that she was pale and trembling and he instinctively reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"What's the matter babe? Are you okay? Are the boys okay?" She managed to nod.

"I got a phone call," she said taking deep breaths and calming herself down. She looked up and met his eyes. "Dawn killed herself, Sandy. She's dead. Dawn's dead."

So what if you catch me

Where would we land?

In somebody's life

For taking his hands

Sing to me hope as she's

Thrown on the sand

All of your work

Is rated again

Where to go?

Okay, so that was the first chapter, let me know if you're interested in my continuing. I'm off to study for stats. Good God, I can't even express to you how much I hate stats. Make my day better, please?!