FIRST SOBY! Not a usual to the Spencer\Toby genre. Please tell me what you think!

I sat on one of the hard, uncomfortable mucus colored chairs in Dr. Pell's office. I glared at everyone beneath my eyelashes. It was cold and it smelled strongly of disinfectant. I knew why I was here, just like everyone else did.

There was Austin, who had filled his stomach with what he hoped was a deadly mixture of sleeping pills and Jack Daniels. He had simply gone into convulsions, but by then his brother had come home and quickly called 911.

Imogen who had stuck her head in the oven, not expecting her mother to be home so early. Her paneled burns from the oven rack would forever (or until she was successful in her mission) be a souvenir of her attempt.

Penny Staten, an old playground friend, who had placed the barrel of a gun into her mouth last spring, only to have it come out through the back of her neck, missing every vein and artery. She was on this planet for a reason. Miracles like that don't just happen.

And then there was me. Who at only seventeen put his father's Swiss Army knife to his throat. I can still hear Dr. Voiletch's voice ringing in my ears as the IV dripped awkwardly in my hospital room. "Oh, honey . . ." her sweet nectarine voice had pooled, "What are you doing here? You aren't even old enough to know how life gets."

I had 'pussied out'. The cut was deep enough to send me into shock, but not deep enough to leave a scar that wouldn't be white and hard to notice in five years. If I made it there. I was determined to end my life. I just didn't want this anymore. When I woke up I almost cried. It had been such a disappointment.

I let my eyes drift up to the clock, wishing for it to take pity on me. The door creaked open loudly in the deadly quiet room. Pun intended.

I half-heartedly glanced over my shoulder but was surprised when I wanted another look. In the doorway stood the notorious Spencer Hastings. I hadn't seen her in a few years since I moved to Haven Brook, PA from Rosewood. She looked nothing like my memory of her.

Her long legs were twiggy and scrawny. Her eyes had deep, dark purple impressions on them. But what surprised me most was that she had chopped off all of her chocolate locks, her most prized possession. It was now an edgy, angular and strait mess that ended around her mid-neck.

She looked down and walked to the only seat available. The one to my left.

I was still staring at her when Dr. Pell sat down. I don't know why but my eyes meditated down to her wrists. There was a gauzy accessory on each one, and it looked like the left one was in need of renewal. What made Spencer do this to herself? The girl who had everything but asked for nothing. And what of Aria, Hanna and Emily? Where had they been for her?

"Well, everybody let's welcome Spencer, our new friend." I looked away from her long enough to roll my eyes at Dr. Pell's statement. 'Our new friend', it seemed like the most cultish statement.

Everyone mumbled a hello, including myself. "Spencer if it isn't too painful, would you share with us your reason for being here?" Dr. Pell smiled encouragingly. Spencer cleared her throat and traced circles on her wrists.

"My sisters boyfriend raped me . . ." everyone gave her their attention immediately. I stared in shock. Ian had raped her?

"His name was Wren . . . but no one believed me because I had kissed another one of her boyfriends in the past. They told me I was a worthless skank and ignored me. I wasn't allowed to leave the house except for school and chores, and my friends weren't allowed to have contact with me. Every other day he . . . Wren . . . would find me and . . ."

She looked up with her beautiful, glossy chocolate eyes and breathed out raggedly, "Do I have to keep talking?" Dr. Pell shook her head no. Suddenly I felt like a piss ant. I had tried to end my life because people hated me. But what Spencer had gone through . . .

An hour later we were all leaving but I saw Spencer at the end of the stairs that led up to the office. "Hey." I said.

She looked up at me, "Hi, Toby."

"Do you . . . remember me?" I asked. She smiled and shook her head.

"Yes, I do. It's kinda nice to see you again."

"Ditto . . ." I smiled. I looked around. "Whose your ride?"

Just then a woman in a blue hummer drove up. "C'mon, sweetie!" she smiled at Spencer.

She looked at me and simply said, "Aunt . . ." Then leaped up and hopped into the car. Spencer Hastings, who have you become?