Title: Nobody's Home
Author: Dani ( Rayv4life)
E-mail:
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing of One Tree Hill nor the song " Nobody's Home".
Summary: Brooke dealing with everything going on in her life.

' Nobody's Home '

I couldn't tell you why she felt that way,
She felt it everyday

The delicate white color of her porcelain skin reflects back at her lifeless expression as she carelessly examines her countless flaws infront of the large antique vanity. Her hand trembles with a shaky quaver of nerves, making it impossible to mask her faint complexion with the many cosmetic products strewn on the aged wood. She tries to paint over the weary stare fixated in her eyes, hide the cracks in her forced smile. The sighs of saddened frustration stay caught in her throat, while she tentatively gazes at the unfamiliar character staring back at her.She's become surprisingly good at being something she's not.

Happy.

She pushes the wisps of her bangs out of her eyes, picking up the disregarded bag in the corner. She stops to notice the suddenly bare surroundings of her once lavishly adorned room. Her grip around the bag's strap tightens with anger and frustration. It is hard for her to let go. Her lips part slightly allowing a heavy breath to escape as a pathetic attempt to calm her over whelmed senses. She's been weakened by the sporadic change. Her lips purse with a silent determination to stay composed, slowly finding it in herself to exit the now upsetting blankness of her bedroom.

And I couldn't help her,
I just watched her make the same mistakes again.

Her hands twist around the leather cushioning of her steering wheel, her radio blares the popular music from their towns local station. She can't hear a thing. She feels deaf outside the confines of her personal shell. The silver beetle comes to it's same abrupt stop, in it's same parking spot, in the same neutral surroundings of her high school. She remains sitting in her seat tensely,emerged from her trance simply because of the deafening screech of rubber tires against the cemented road. Tucking a strand of her tinted brown hair behind her pierced ear, she turns her gaze towards the brown BMW, now pulled up beside her.

His smirk is the first thing she can see.She winces inwardly. She doesn't know why she allows him to repulsively undress her breakable state with his eyes.His over confident stare haunts at the only bit of strength she possesses. She grimaces at the nudge of his head, indicating his intentions. She doesn't want to give in. She's vulnerable though. She knows it's what his is taking advantage of. She lets them think it's what they both want. She lets everyone think, it's the only way she would have it done. It isn't though. It is the last way she would do things. He is using her. She doesn't have enough power in herself to stop him.

She doesn't have enough power to stop herself.

He plays at the thin strap of her tank top, sliding it off of the milky skin of her shoulder. His lips graze against the side of her face, as she closes her eyes tightly. Swallowing down the large lump developing in her throat. Her hands lace into his hair roughly as he presses himself into her. Her back shoots with pangs pushed up against the wall by his large body. His pants are heavy and rapid. They muffle the sounds of her quiet whimpers. She keeps one hand wrapped around his neck, as he continues to rock back and forth. She uses the other one to wipe away the stray tears now staining the paleness of her cheeks.

What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.

She acknowledges many of the small waves of greeting in her direction, smiling back at them fakely. She can feel the arm of her slinky bestfriend wrap around her neck as she and their now close friend Haley, laugh loudly at some random occurrences earlier that morning. Her laugh is light in comparison with theirs, barely audible over the idle chatter. Peyton's loosely hung arm falls away from the brunette as she quickens her step towards her first class. She knows the two are probably gazing at each other with perplexed stares. She turns back while still walking throwing out a few sentences, that they perceived as something commonly spoken by her. It reassures them. She sighs relieved. It was easiest not dealing with their petty concern.

Her pencil taps furiously against her notebook. The droning of her teacher becomes incomprehensible, as she immerses herself in her own thoughts. The shake of vibration caused by her cell steals her attention back to the class. She checks her phone. Her face yet again falls with chagrin. She averts her gaze to her left. Felix smiles back at her with a suggestive grin. He winks, before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. She knows he is waiting for her. She doesn't want to give in.

She blinks back at the text message.

She hurriedly storms out of the grimy janitor's closet, bowing her head regretfully while passing through the deserted halls. She feels dirty. Disgusting. She pushes against the doors of the girls locker room, stumbling inside hysterically. Her body aches with every thought of his hands on her. Her mind is tormented with every thought of her life falling apart.

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.

She calls for either of her parents upon entering the emptied Davis estate. She is answered by the echoing response of silence. Tossing her keys onto a table, she makes her way back upstairs to her bedroom. She is yet again reminded of her disheartening state. She sits infront of the same dusty vanity. A halo of despair wears around her head. It feels hollow.Just like this house.Just like her.

It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

She's never been one to be confronted with such angst. She isn't use to her absence of up beat behavior. She feels bruised and tired. She can't keep the tears from continuing to flood the rims of her swollen eyes. The steam of her hot shower swirls around her, mixing in with her pained sobs. She kneels in the corner of the white tiling let the beads pound at her sore muscles and exhausted face. She wants to drown away everything she is feeling. Instead she just feels like she is drowning.

It's still hard for her to come face and face with the truth of it all.She spites herself by lying to those who care. To those she hopes cares. The towel wraps around her small frame, as she answers the vexatious ringing of her phone. It's Peyton. She listens to one of the blond's rare rants before dismissing her with some lame excuse of needing to go do homework. Surprisingly she buys it. Leaving Brooke again, alone with her constant demons.

Open your eyes and look outside, find a reasons why.
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.

The leather bound photo album lays in her lap. She bites at the nail of her thumb while opening it's front cover. Her fingers trace across the laminated pictures, continuing to flip threw the numerous pages. She frowns as a picture of a familiar face smiles back at her, her wrapped up in his arms. A sardonic laugh fills the room. She loved him. It had seemed that simple really, because she immediately assumed he loved her back. She wanted him to love her back. She yearned for it. She needed it. He didn't though. Instead he did what most people had done to her in the past. He broke her trust. And he broke her heart. She knows some people are unfortunate. Some more then others. She never realized she was naive. She never realized that even he, Lucas, could disappoint her.But everyone ended up disappointing her in some way. She should of realized that he too would of fallen under that fatal category.

In some ways he broke her more then anyone could. She isn't sure what to think anymore. She can't move on. She can't go back. She is left with that lingering notion that some day, she could feel the way she once felt about him. But now she'll always, she'll always fear him hurting her. Someone hurting. She's bitter, she hates it. She sadly has reason to be.

Be strong, be strong now.
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

The liquid swishes around in the clear bottle, as she stumbles around the large kitchen. Her breath and hair reek of alcohol, her eyes now bloodshot from tears and intoxication. She struggles to flood out her miseries with the bottle loosely held in her drunken clutch. Drinking doesn't take away her pain. It tranquilizes it. The lines are blurred, her nerves are calmed and for a moment she can forget the wrenching feeling inside of her. She's foolish in thinking it's a way out. Somewhere she knows it isn't. Some where she's knows it is just bringing her deeper in.

Her feelings she hides.Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind.She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place.She's losing her faith.
She's fallen from grace.She's all over the place.

She wakes up on the cold marble floor of her kitchen. A broken bottle of vodka lay shattered beside her. Her head throbs, and her eyes ache with soreness. She can feel the tenderness of muscle as she attempts to lift herself off of the ground. She gazes around her. It is dark. Quiet. She realizes nobody's home. She is the only one there to witness her earlier drunken stupor. Wrapping her arms around her self she stands herself up. She picks up the broken glass from off the ground throwing them out in the trash. It is going to be like this for a long time, she reminds herself. It has always been like this.

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.