The flash of a knife. The deafening silence. The man's angry face. Miranda and Nate. Chris Cerulli. Everything that had happened this night was coming back to me. Heck, everything that had happened in the past two weeks was coming back to me. Crashing down on me and the realization hitting me hard. I was having trouble even believing what I had gone through.

Okay, Chloe. Just imagine that this is a movie. A cheesy movie that'll have a happy ending, maybe even a happy sequel, I thought to myself.

Maybe that would work. Chloe, a young girl walking clumsily through the woods, crying uncontrollably like the baby she is as she thinks of all that she's gone through this month.

Okay, not working. I rubbed my arm as I felt goosebumps arise on my skin. Gosh, I was cold. And hungry. I still wasn't used to being on the run like this.

Suddenly, I arrived in the clearing. However, Derek was gone, no longer lying there sleeping on his side. I panicked. A sob racked through me as something Nate said repeated in my mind:"If I had found out sooner, I'd leave her. I know it sounds rude, but it's true. I don't wanna hang out with a crazy girl."

When had Derek woken up? Had he heard? Where was he? When would he return? Would he return? If I hadn't heard what Nate and Miranda said about me- if I had been thinking straight and not about a dead girl -I would've known better than to think he'd leave me.

But what was stopping Derek from leaving me? I had no use to him. I was only an issue. I'd bugged him since the day I met him. He disliked me. The only reason he hadn't left me was because of Simon. Simon was nice and wouldn't let him abandon Tori and me.

An image of Chris Cerulli, the junior from lunch the first half of the school year, popped up in my head. He had recently cut his hair and dyed it black again. He'd been wearing less makeup than usual. I swear he's not gay, though it shouldn't matter to me what his sexuality was, but he could draw on eyebrows better than anyone. That was all he wore that day, instead of adding the black and white makeup.

That was also the day that he'd witnessed me being made fun of.

Chris was a lot like Derek, except Derek had zits on his face instead of that fabulous makeup. Derek was a bit shorter, surprisingly, and he wouldn't have even talked to the bullies. He would've just growled and glared until they walked away in fear. Chris knew how to handle things a bit better. I wasn't saying Derek couldn't handle things; I was just saying that growling wouldn't keep everyone away forever. At least, not those three.

As soon as Chris saw me being cornered by two jocks and a Snooki lookalike, he power walked over and shoved the guy closest to me, not too hard, but hard enough to get him away from me. "Leave her alone and go try to get Kim Kardashian over here to suck your tiny dick instead. You're a disgusting piece of crap. She's my friend and if you hurt her, I will hurt you." He stuck his middle finger in the guy's face and said something I'd rather not tell you.

And Chris was only overreacting a little. If you heard what the guys and Snooki were saying, you'd have been pretty angry as well. Chris just had a low tolerance for those three in general. They always laughed at him and tried to trip him on the stairs and throw food at him during lunch.

Afterward, Chris had told me that I shouldn't listen to him. That he was wrong and I belonged and had a place here. This was what his band, Motionless in White, stood for. To show people they had a place.

I realized then, standing in the clearing with years pouring from my eyes, that he was right. Miranda and Nate were wrong about me. I wasn't crazy. I didn't deserve to die. I wasn't what they said I was. I was better than that.

So was Derek. He was better than that- he wouldn't leave me. Derek wasn't heartless. He was quite the opposite, in fact; he cared about me and Simon and even Tori.

So why would he leave like that? Why didn't he just follow the trail of my scent? Wasn't he tired from the Change?

I wiped away my tears and sniffled, walking forward. "Derek?" I inquired softly. Then a bit louder.

I sat in the clearing. He'd be back soon, wouldn't he?

A thought occurred to me; What if he didn't leave willingly? Oh, gosh. What if the Edison Group found him? No! They couldn't have!

I stood quickly, looking around. "Derek?" I yelled without thinking. My hand flew over my mouth. Crap. If the Edison Group was around, they heard. Miranda and Nate had to hear too. No.

My heart was beating quickly as I tried to return to where I was while eavesdropping. Where could he be? Was returning to where I was before a smart decision?

Soon, I was back behind the bushes once again, staring at the swings Nate and Miranda had once occupied. They were gone. I decided to walk forward a little. If Derek was caught, I would be left to go on my own. I'd end up being caught anyway, so stepping out in the open when there was a chance the Edison Group was near couldn't hurt anything, right?

Soon, the woods were behind me, and I was making my way to the set of swings. Why not swing? It was a fun way to pass time. Maybe, Derek was near. He'd see. He'd scold me and I'd tell him that he shouldn't have gone away in the first place and should've just waited for my return.

If he'd been captured, would I have heard? Should I be looking for him, or was that a stupid idea, or was he gone? I had no idea what to do. I just started living on the streets. My whole life, my decisions had been made by my aunt. I cared for Derek, but trying to find him was taking a big risk. Right now, I was thinking that I didn't care if I was caught as long as he was as well, but when I got back to the headquarters, I knew I would think differently.

Thinking through it, I had no idea what to do and that scared me. No way I was going to just sit here swing back and forth while Derek could be in trouble. No way was I going to risk being caught.

Maybe you should get off that swing then, genius. Really? Do you honestly think that being under a street lamp on a swing out in the open near a parking lot isn't taking a risk? Nate was right- you are an idiot.

I felt like slapping my forehead, face palming. My black hair was certainly going to put them off, considering that it was night and they had no clue I dyed it. But my shortness and tininess gave me away. No twelve year old girl would be out here this late- at least not without a parent.

Getting up, I noticed three large figures leaving the truck stop's bathroom. Men, obviously. I started picking up my speed, and, just my luck, tripped and fell on my face. Ouch.

Shakily, I got up, but one man noticed me. Crap. Crapcrapcrap. They couldn't be up to any good. Derek was away. I couldn't be saved. I was weak, they looked as buff as Derek from a distance, and the three of them were quick. "Hey, you! Yeah! C'mere, girl."

Treating me like a dog. Of course. I yearned to go in the direction of the rest stop ladies' bathroom and to hide there, maybe go inside the room separating the girls from the boys. But I knew they would follow me. Oh, gosh, oh, gosh, oh gosh. What was going to happen to me?

Then, the man who yelled froze, hands going to the side of his head, looking around wildly as if someone was there. The two others stopped, confused. Uncaring of what was taking place before me, I darted for the woods, fortunately going unnoticed.

Wait, no. The woods weren't a good idea. They'd assume the first place I'd run to was the woods. The girls' restroom. I'd wait for a whole until it was safe to search for Derek.

Where could he be? Why did he get up? If he hadn't gotten up, I wouldn't be stuck in the bathroom like this, waiting until I could attempt to find him!

Really, though, it was my fault. If I hadn't been curious when I heard Nate and Miranda, I would've seen him get up, probably gone with him to wherever his destination was. I should've woken Derek when the dead girl started haunting my thoughts.

And there went the thoughts of the dead girl in the woods. Again.

The bathroom door slammed open and I couldn't contain the whimper that escaped my lips. I curled up on the toilet, bringing my feet up. Who was it? Only one set of footsteps. Louder than Derek, and obviously a different pair of shoes by the noise. It couldn't be Edison.

"Chloe, it's me. Peter. I know what I am now. I wanna help you."

I learned my lesson. No more putting that a one shot is complete until I know for sure nobody wants me to continue. A few people wanted me to continue Lies, and since I'm stuck on The Only One, why not make this a lot like the story I talked about previously, Written In Crimson? Peter played a big part in that one, but it was mainly a Derek POV. I began that in March. I do this all in the Notes app on my iPhone, though, so it somehow deleted itself. I had quite a few things I planned on making an account for and posting when it was finished but then they just disappeared. I never posted anything until Lies. I had a LOT of fics I will never post because they got deleted. But Written in Crimson was my favorite and Peter is my favorite character, so why not start over? Does anyone else think that Peter would've grown up to be PewDiePie? Even though he seemed pretty calm, PewDiePie does as well when he's around other people.

I'm sure you might have noticed that I put a lot of my favorite musicians in my stories. I'm sorry if that bothers you, but I actually like it when writers put one of their favorite things in their stories, whether it plays a small or big part. It could be a movie, a TV show, a video game, a band/artist, or even a restaurant. I like learning a bit about the writer through that, even if they like something I dislike. It makes the story a bit more realistic and fun when I know something the writer is talking about. There is at least one DP character that would like something you like if they do indeed exist in real life. I personally think that even though Chloe is shy, quiet, calm, and extremely nice and adorable, she'd like heavy metal music. I know that I am most likely the only one to think that, but I just can't see her liking rap or pop or country. I see Derek hating heavy metal because of the loud vocals, but I notice that more than one fanfiction on here has him listening to 'screamo.' I call it post hardcore, but you can call it whatever you like. It's the lyrics that make me think that.

Okay. I could go on about that forever, but since you probably aren't reading this, I'll stop. You might even hate that genre. That's totally okay. You go and listen to your music and whip your hair back and forth to it and be Willow Smith.

Thank you for reading! Please review! I promise I'll try to finish The Only One ASAP.