A/N: Hey, it's Grace! I did post this story on The. Vintage. Record, but I recently made my own account, and I decided to go with the story from here.

I have changed this chapter a little bit. Instead of it being based on Jay Asher's Th1rteen R3asons Why, this is going to be like that and P.S I Love You. ish. I'm just going to go with the flow, you know? Haha

I will tell you where I've been in my next chapter's AN, because I will be posting that chapter after this one. :)

I'll see you at the bottom!

Have you ever heard of the saying, "Live each day like it's your last"?
What do you think of it?
Do actually do it?
Do you just acknowledge it and move on? Or does it just remind you that your life is going to end one day?
Isn't it ironic, that today being my last day, that saying never crossed my mind?

I kissed the envelope in, my hand and gently placed it down the chute of the mailbox. Tomorrow, that letter will be in the hands of Chad Dylan Cooper.

I walked to the elevator in my apartment complex and pressed the button signalling that I wanted to go up. A single tear made its way down my cheek as I waited. You tend to spend a lot of time waiting, in life. Waiting, anticipating, whishing, wondering. It's all the same. Something I'm not going to miss. Let's just say that I've never been one of patience.

The elevator bell rang and the doors in front of me opened. I stepped inside the empty box and pressed the button for my level. The doors closed and more tears escaped. I reached for the bottle from its hiding place in my pocket. I stared at it in my shaking hand and turned the lid. I brought the bottle to my lips and tilted my head back, letting the pills fill my mouth, choking me. The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. I walked out of the elevator and stumbled my way towards my door, swallowing all of the tiny capsules in my mouth. I got to my door and shakily un-locked the door with my keys. I pushed my door open and stumbled in, managing to close the door behind me. I swallowed every last pill down my throat as breathing became harder. I was glad that my Mum was out that night. I don't know how I would've done this with her there. She would try to stop me, and that's not what I want.

For the first time in a while, I started to feel a little bit happy, a little bit excited, because I knew I'll be put out of my misery. I will be gone soon and there'll be no more for me. No more feeling paranoid, that I'm not good enough, that I'm not appreciated. No more thinking about every move I make. No more worrying about good press. No more faking. I'll be gone. I'll be free.

As my mind began to numb, the shaking becoming more violent, I managed to make it to my bedroom, collapsing on my bed. I released the bottle from my grasp, the pills I missed spilling out, the container clattering on the ground. As I was slipping away slowly, I decided to be cliché and think about my life. Watch it fly before my eyes. Mostly bad moments filled with those who didn't believe in me, put me down, left me, and took advantage of me. But there were some moments that brightened them ever so slightly; and in every one of them starred the blonde heart-throb that I loved. Sadly, one person can't change all that's been done in the past.

The shaking finally subsided and my whole body was numb. The edges of life dissolving rapidly. The choking became fiercer, my heart beating out of my chest and I knew this was it. I closed my eyes and waited once again.

Goodbye, kids. I hope you have a wonderful life.

"SONNY MUNROE FOUND DEAD."

"WISCONSIN SWEETHEART GONE."

"SUICIDE OR MURDER? WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO ALLISON MUNROE?"

"SO RANDOM! FANS SWARM TO REMEMBER SONNY MUNROE."

"WILL SO RANDOM! CONTINUE?"

"STARS REMEMBER ALLISON "SONNY" MUNROE."

A/N: Yes, I did kill off Sonny. Please don't hate me! I had to. I didn't have a choice. (Well, actually, there is always a choice, isn't there? To be, or not, to be? That, is the question. O_o) THAT was random. My bad.

My attempt at writing a suicide. It's not that good, but hey, I've never committed suicide and I plan on never having to do so, so I have no idea what you're supposed to be feeling and what happens etc.

Next chapter will be up straight after this one!

Over, out and peace out suckahs!
(See what I did there? I combined my usual "over and out" with Chad's "peace out, suckahs" Aren't I cool?)

Gracee.