Prologue
Snap. Flash. Snap. Flash.
Another flash of blinding, white light entered Miley's pupils and made her wince.
Snap. Flash. Snap. Flash.
Miley shut her eyes and squeezed, hoping everything would just disappear. Not just the loud, annoying paparazzi. Everything. Everything that had happened to her in the past week. Everything that had happened to her in the last hour, and minute. She covered her eyes and looked down, frantically searching for her mom's hand, who was walking in front of her. She reached out and grabbed it as if her life depended on it. Miley squeezed her mom's hand with every last bit of energy that she had with her. A tear escaped Miley's left eye, and trickled down her cheek. She didn't bother to wipe it away. A pain tugged at her heart. Just like the moment when she found out the news.
Miley sat at her bedroom window, looking out at the beautiful ocean view of the Pacific. Her home, built in Toluca Lake, California, was worth money. A lot of it. $3.4 million dollars, to be exact. But Miley didn't care. At least right now, she didn't. Money couldn't mend the pain inside of her aching heart. She watched the happy people with their happy lives and their happy families and their big bowls of happiness play happily on the beach. Water filled her eyes and spilled out of them. It had been one month since she found out. One full month. One full month of Miley's depression. And one full month since the funeral. Miley felt lifeless. Hopeless. Dull.
She couldn't control her actions. She just did them. She remembered snapping at Noah, her little sister a day after the funeral. "Oh, look at this picture, Miles. You were so chubby when you were five. And look, Dad had a mullet!" Noah had said. She'd held up a picture of Miley's kindergarten graduation picture she'd taken with her dad. Miley stared at the picture. She yelled, "JUST STOP IT! DAD'S DEAD! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT HIM, NOAH!" Miley had grabbed the picture aggressively from Noah. She took a pair of scissors and just cut the picture. She took the cut- up picture and threw it in the trash. Noah had looked at her with wide eyes and stood there. Noah was trembling with fear. She finally ran away, outside to her mom and hugged her for a long time. Miley watched her and rolled her eyes. "Brat."
Miley shook her head, remembering how depressed she was. She didn't mean anything she said. Noah was just a little girl. And Miley knew better than that. Miley ached for her dad. She prayed to him like crazy. Sometimes, she wouldn't speak for hours. Her mom, Tish, would knock softly on her bedroom door and ask if she was alright. "I'm fine, Mom," was always the answer.
