Here's one-short. I own NOTHING, but the plot. Be warned it's one of the saddest pieces you will mostly likely find in this section. If you care to read on, I hope you enjoy.

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His fingers ran across the cold, hard, lifeless strings of a guitar. Dust blew around him, but he barely noticed, his vision blurred as tears fought to escape. Closing his eyes, he sucked them back down, aimlessly wiping the dust away from the black tux. Pressing his lips together, he touched the strings, streaming them once. The sound echoed off the walls of the closet, cold, hollow, and broken from the lack of tuning. His ears ached from the noise, but he forced himself to hear the sound without covering them. As the sound faded away, he leaned against the door frame, his gaze drifted over towards the clock, which hung over the kitchen sink. It read 6:30 pm.

Shaking his head, he gripped the door handle for support as he stood up. As he withdrew his hand, he closed the door with a gentle click as the automatic lock switched on. Running his hand down his face, he felt wet, hot, salty tears roll down his check as his body began to tremble. Everyone had left and gone home, but he remained, remained in memories of the past, but no one saw the pain buried deep within him. No, they just choose to ignore it. Just as they had done to her, simply because she had claimed to be completely fine.

His knees buckled from beneath him as he walked over to the sink, his knees scraping against the title floor, two drops of blood dripped from his palms. Shaking them out, he stood up and walked over to the sink. Turning on the foist, he ran his hands underneath the hot water as it slipped into the small cuts. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus on happy memories, but the pain overwhelmed him, all of them blurred together.

Suddenly, the phone rang startling him out of his thoughts. The pain from his palms draining into a small ach as he turned off the foist. As he rang his hands out, he waited as the phone rang three more times before the answering machine clicked on. Her voice filled the empty room, completely cheerfully and happy and for just a moment he felt the nightmare falling away as he listened to her voice. Yet, it was broken from his mothers' voice calling to him from their home, only a few houses down.

"Sweet Heart, please come home. You've been over there for the last five hours, I know it hurts, but please come home, there's nothing you can do, please…I…know she…"

Her voice faded away as he ran out of the kitchen and through multiple rooms, his vision blurred from tears sliding down his face. In the distance, he heard his own footsteps pounding along the wooden and titled floors of her house, echoing off the walls as his pace quickened. Suddenly, he felt his knees slamming down on a set of stairs, pain shot up his legs as a moan escaped his lips. Tears slid down his cheeks as he bent his head down onto the stairs, trying in vain to simply catch his breath. Memories swam through his mind, each one blurred with pain. Even the happiest ones, were fogged with pain and blood. His last memory of her crept into mind, playing out in front of him.

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He watched as crowds of people swam through the café, mindless chatter surrounded him. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils, his fingers tapping against the table, occasional checking his watch. Fear crept into his heart as seconds past, his knuckles turned white as he gripped his mug.

"God, she better have an explanation," he muttered under his breath, tossing down loose change onto the table.

Standing up, he began to walk away, but a voice called him back.

"Phil, please wait," she called over to him.

He glanced over his shoulder, his heart pounding as he caught a glimpse of golden curls standing on the opposite side of the table. Turning around, he smiled as his hands slid into his jean pockets.

Walking back over, he said, "Keely, how have you been?"

"Fine, how about yourself?" she asked, sliding into a chair quietly.

"Everything's fine, but Keels is he still…?"

"Phil, please keep your voice down," she said, folding her hair over her ears.

Phil nodded, but something in her voice unnerved him. Shifting within his seat, he whispered, "Keels, he doesn't have the right to keep doing torturing you."

"Phil, please…" her voice trailed away as her eyes darted around the backed café.

"No, Keely! I won't let him keep getting away with all of this shit, it's just wrong," Phil cried, leaning in closer towards her.

Tears slid down her face, washing away the face powder as she listened to him. Phil simply watched as her mask faded away, revealing a broken, bruised young women. For a moment, their eyes locked with each others, unspoken questions and answers reserved for only one person.

Lowering her eyes, she said, "Phil, please stay away from me. It's for the best."

"But Keels, I can't see you go through all of this. Why won't you let me help you?" he asked, grabbing her wrists.

However, she pulled away instantly, cradling her wrist with her other hand, a large black and blue just visible through the make up. Phil watched her, his heart aching with a new sort of pain, one he couldn't explain, even to himself.

Laying his hand across the table, he said, "Keels, what happened? I mean with us."

Keely didn't even look up at him, invisible tears shaking her body.

Phil inched his coffee towards her, muttering, "Please remember, I'm always your friend"

She shook her head, standing up quickly. "I have to go, see ya later, Sal-Phil," she said, a small smile crept onto her face, but vanished in a second.

He stood up as well, but she quickened vanished within the crowds. He darted, yelling out her name, but she had vanished, returning to the torture of her life

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He stood in the doorway of an empty bedroom. The bed was stripped of sheets, the windows overlooking the park were barred with steel, and the few pieces of fortune left ere turned over. Shards of glass danced across the floor, each tipped with dried blood, her blood. Falling to his knees, he pounded his fist into the ground, cursing to the heavens as he tried to imagine her last minutes of life. Had she even tired to fight, did she even know that she wouldn't see any of her friends or family again? Even as those thoughts swam through his mind, no more tears fall.

"God, oh God, why did you take her from me? God DAMN IT! She was the angel of my life, it WASN'T her time, God, TAKE ME!" he cried to the empty room, his throat growing hoarse, but he barely noticed.

Falling back down, he caught a glimpse of something silver near the overturned dresser. Wiping at his eyes, he inched over. His fingers falling against the glass, but the few pricks didn't even give him a moment's pause. The silver glinted in the sunlight as he reached over and the object out. It was cold, lifeless, just as the guitar strings, but it has broken, directly in half.

"Pepper, Keels, why did you have go? I hope, he burns in hell for what he did to you!" he whispered, cradling the shaker in his arms as through it was a child.

Rocking back and forth, he sat on the floor, surrounded by glass and a broken love. Suddenly, he felt something stuck within the shaker. Turning it over, he saw a small piece of paper, wedged into it. After five minutes, he managed to get it free, a note folded into eighths. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to stand, his knees shaking with tears, but he refused to allow himself to fall again. Waling over to bed, he placed the shaker beside him as he looked at the folded note. His fingers trembled as he traced his name printed on the front with her perfect penmanship.

"Oh, Keels, why are you doing this to me?" he asked as through the note was his lost love.

His hands trembled as he forced himself to open the note, all scripted in her writing. Dried blood ran down the edges, but he forced himself to read. It read,

Dear Salt,

I truly apologize for my behavior, but I just can't be with you. It hurts too much! Your secrets and leaving without a word, just crashes my heart, to many times to count. In high school, you were my best friend, and your absence when you moved, killed my spirit. Even everything Will has put me through, amounts to nothing of the pain from heart as it aches everyday for you, my Phil. But please now, I forgive you, you know you tired to help just as loyal as you were in High school. But the pain of loosing a love, a weighs the

Amount of love I have for you. Please understand, I know you'll blame yourself, but DON'T. You helped me in ways I could never even dream of before you. Even through the aches and my broken soul, I love you more than the time and space, which keeps us apart. Please don't hang onto me, move on and live a great life, you deserve nothing less, Phil.

All my heart, soul, and my songs belong to you, my Phil!

Yours always and forever

Peeper

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Phil lowered the note onto his lap, his fingers tracing each word, his mind completely blank as he stared into space, imagining her face and hearing her laughter. Wind blew in through the cracks in the window and walls, flowing past his ears, almost like the last cord of a guitar and a song. The song he had helped create, just as she had helped him create a new life in the new century. The new century she would never be apart of and a new century he would forever live alone without his love at his side.

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Please review, I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think and as to Aly, please do a long review, please. Thanks and review people review. THANKS