Alice Dainard was not the same girl she was back in the summer of 1979. That was for sure. That summer had been the happiest she had been for as long she can remember. She'd like to say that everything changed for the better after that summer. She'd like to say her dad stopped drinking. She'd like to say he stopped hitting her. She'd like to say things got better. She'd like to say she was happy. But she'd be lying.

If anything, things had gotten worse. After that summer, he had started drinking even more. He'd be more drunk than ever. In one year alone, he had to make at least a dozen hospital visits due to alcohol poisoning. She was embarassed by it. Everyone in Lillian knew about her dad. Everyone knew he was good for nothing except drinking. Even he knew it himself.

There was some good things. It wasn't all bad. In the beginning, she joined the group. She had become best friends with Cary, Charles, Martin, and Preston. She'd meet them at various places around town and they would spend the days goofing off, or filming Charles' newest movie, or even walking around town, joking around and just having fun, being 14. They were being kids and she couldn't have asked for anything more.

Her and Joe... well, they had a... special relationship. They weren't exactly dating, but it felt like they were. Joe grew to be protective over Alice ever since that summer. He'd always been there for her whenever she needed a shoulder to lean on or someone to listen to her. She knew he cared a lot about her. She cared a lot about him too. They could never find the right words to say to each other though. They were stuck in the middle of a friendship and a relationship, trying to get there, but never really succeeding.

Then came the fall of 1979. She had entered high school alongside her friends. She had always been particularly smart, so she was put into all of the advanced classes while the rest of the gang was in concept classes. Her grades were pretty good, she never got into a lot of trouble, all of the teachers liked her, and she had her group of friends. What could possibly ruin that?

Her dad did.

Her dad came home drunk one night. Very drunk. Dangerously drunk. She had heard his old yellow Skylark pull up around 11 or so. The door slammed as his footsteps pounded against the wooden floorboards. She sat in her room, trying to concentrate on her schoolwork. It was nearly impossible with the sound of her dad's drunken slurred rant and the smashing of what she assumed was glass or something fragile and breakable. She continued to work silently though, trying her best to ignore the commotion downstairs. She had only gotten halfway through her assignments when she heard his footsteps on the creaky old stairs that led to her room. She expected nothing of it, just her dad coming upstairs, probably to go to bed. And she couldn't have been any more wron.

The door swung open to reveal Lousid Dainard in his drunken rampage. His hair was unkempt, looking greasy and knotted and tangled. His eyes were completely blood-shoot, red veins in his eyes, visible from where Alice was sitting. His clothes were worn and dirty and torn and ragged and the stench of beer filled her nostrils immediately.

"Dad, just go to sleep." She said calmly. She turned back to her homework only to be disrupted seconds later by a large, calloused hand grabbing her arm and yanking her off the chair.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little bitch! What have you ever done for me? I provide you with food and a house and clothes and you think you can just talk to me like that? This is all your fault! I never wanted a kid! Your mother, she never wanted a kid! But we go and have one and she dumps it on me and leaves!" He yelled. His other hand came down and slapped Alice clear across her face. HARD. The resonating sound of the skin-on-skin contact vibrated around the room and off the walls, closing in on Alice. She felt it ring in her ears. Her cheek stung where his hand had hit. He just grumbled and left the room, slamming the door shut on his way out. Alice sat in shock on the bed, the tears mercilessly spilling over and streaking her face. She lifted a trembling hand to touch her face as she sat in shock and cried.

That was the first time out of many that her father hit her.

She didn't tell anybody. Not even Joe, whom she trusted with everything. She knew Joe cared about her safety more than anything and would tell his dad. She couldn't do that to her dad, despite what had happened. So she kept her mouth shut. She covered up the evidence and pretended to be happy with a smile on her fake and an air of happiness in her voice. Nobody saw through the disguise.

All throughout the year, this continued. He would drink so much, come home, and in his drunken blindness, he'd beat her, abuse her. Sometimes it was a slap, sometimes it was a kick, sometimes it was a punch. It all depended on what he drank and how mad he was. It wasn't every night either, but it was enough that the bruises weren't completely gone before he'd beat her again. And every morning after he would do something, he'd act as though nothing happened. And that disgusted her, sickened her to no end. How can you do something like that and then pretend it never even occurred?

Throughout the year, her grades suffered. They dropped from the average A's and B's to C's and D's. This angered him even more. And, she noticed, his words got harsher and his blows got harder.

It was getting difficult to cover up. You can only hide so much with make-up. And she was no master at it. She wasn't like Joe, who would've been able to cover it up in about a minute yet make it look so professional and natural. It took her ten minutes to make it look decent enough to not be questioned.

And so went her freshman year, filled with emotional and physical pain. The more this happened, the more miserable she got. The more effort it took to smile and laugh and the whole happy act was just pointless to her. Sometimes she'd slip a bit more than she should and Joe would notice. He'd ask her if she was alright. She'd say she was fine. And he bought it everytime.

The summer of 1980 was hard for her. The boys families had decided to all go on vacation around the same time of the year, leaving her alone in Lillian with her dad. She would escape from the house and ride her bike down to the river near the backfields of Lillian. She'd spend all hours from when the sun came up to when it went down, just sitting on the rocks, listening to the crashing of the rapids and watching the water and it's gentle flow, the beautiful blue hue that shone in the sunlight.

But every night was the same. When the sky turned darker, she'd return to the run-down house she lived in. Not home. That place wasn't home anymore. She'd return to the monster and all of his anger that he unleashed on her. She'd return to the place where she was hurt and beaten and battered and bruised and knocked-down. She'd be forced to return to reality. She'd be forced to return to life.

That summer was a turning point. And it wasn't a good one. It was when her life definitely spiraled downwards. There was just no bright side anymore. She always hurt. And without Joe there for her to talk to, or just to comfort her, there was nothing to keep her going. Nothing to make her feel worth something.

Which is why, shortly after they all returned to school in the fall of 1980, Alice became a bulimic. She just felt like she had become a disappointment. A worthless waste of space. She felt like she was nothing. She grew skinnier and skinnier. She was mostly skin and bones. Her eyes were hollow with bags underneath. Her face lost it's beauty and glow, replaced with morbid looks and almost frighteningly pale skin. She rarely ate, and when she did, she couldn't keep it down. It made her feel better about herself. Not good. No, not good at all. But after the first time, she was addicted, as weird as that may seem. It made her feel like less of a disappointment. But at the end of the day, the feeling would always creep back.

Joe was the only one to notice the change in Alice. He'd continuously ask her if she was okay. She'd always say she was fine. However, this time, he'd be more persistent before letting it go, still unconvinced, but dropping the subject for Alice's sake.

Her dad continued to hurt her. With his words, which were as sharp as knives, and his beatings, which were just as painful. She thought of the river and the riverbank as her sweet escape where she could go and slip away from all the problems she had. She felt like it was her new home.

Then the summer of 1981 crept up slowly. She knew that with each and every day that passed by, her act became less and less believable. She started spending less and less time with the gang and more and more time in isolation near the river. One day, halfway through the summer, Joe found her there. They stayed there all day. She talked to him more then, down near the river then she had than in their whole sophomore year. And she felt like she might actually be happy again, that maybe she could go back to the old Alice that everyone knew.

That dream was destroyed that night when her dad came home. It was the worst yet. He kicked and punched and slapped. When she tried to run away, he grabbed her hair and threw her on the ground. He finished uleashing his fury and stumbled out of the room before making his way to his bedroom. She sat on the floor, more broken than ever. She hurt all over. She eventually got up and made her way downstairs. She found the first aid kit and did the most that she could with ice and bandages and such things. She still felt horrible though, inside and out. She had officially been beaten to the point where it hurt to breathe.

When she looked in the mirror, she couldn't believe what she saw. Her long golden hair was tangled and knotted into a matted nest on top of her head. Her face was red where he had hit, the rest a sickly pale color. Her bloodshot eyes seemed sunken into her face. The tears that fell left marks, trailing down her face. She hated it. She looked so helpless and so unhealthy and so not her. She dug through the drawer containing miscellaneous objects until she found exactly what she was looking for.

It was a cold, hard, steel blade. In her hands, she held her dad's pocket-knife. The blade reflected the dim light of the lamp from the living room. She strecthed out her left arm in front of her. She took a deep breath and steeled herself as she lowered the blade against her skin. She pressed down slowly as she dragged it across her pale skin. She watched as the red liquid spilled out onto her skin. That was the first time, out of many, that Alice Dainard would cut herself.

The remainder of that summer was spent in hiding. She avoided Joe at any costs. He was getting very curious as to what was happening with Alice and the last thing she needed was for him to find out everything that had happened over the past 2 years. She didn't even try to pretend everything was fine. It was too hard. She covered up the bruises and hid the scars as best she could, and she went on, walking around as the shell of a person she used to be.

It was a cold, windy, bitter February day. It was Saturday, February 20, 1982. And she decided it was all too hard. She couldn't keep doing this- whatever this was. There was just too much pain. She found it quite ironic that even though there was pain, she was numb. She was empty, but she still felt. All of the physical pain, and all of the emotional emptiness. She was just numb.

She couldn't find a point. There was none. No point at all to her existence as far as she could see. Being a punching bag to the beast she called her father, it wasn't worth it anymore. And Joe was beginning to figure it all out. She hadn't completely covered up one of the bruises she had. It was on her face, near her eye. He was very suspicious of it. And summer was approaching. She couldn't hide the scars on her legs and wrists behind long sleeve shirts and jeans much longer. The truth was going to come out soon, whether she wanted it to or not.

She knew what she had to do. First though, she had to write a note. She owed them that much. It went like this:

To anyone who cares about me:

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I'm not okay and I haven't been for the longest time. I know it's selfish to leave the few of you that care about me, but I just don't see a point in this. In life. In Me. So I'm going. For good. And I don't mean running away. I mean, I'm leaving this world. I think that maybe if more people had noticed, then maybe I could've gotten help. I could've been saved from this. But it's too late now. And Joe, you noticed. It's not your fault. You're the only one who did. And I love you Joseph Lamb. But I can't do this anymore. Goodbye.

Love,

-Alice Dainard

She left the note on the front door to the house. Her dad had gone out, yet again, and chances were someone else would find it before he did. She took one final look at the prison she used to call home and started walking towards the backfield of Lillian.

She got there right around dusk. The sun had been hidden in the shadows the whole day. The gray clouds rolled above as raindrops started to fall from the sky. The sky was gray, it was raining, and it was cold. It was mockingly perfect for what she intended to do.

She sat there for a good half-hour. She sat and watched as the rain gradually started to come down faster and faster, soon enough pelting her skin, leaving her soaked and drenched. It came down hard, each raindrop forming a ripple in the river. Her hair was plastered against her face. She knew it was time.

She got off the rocks and made her way towards the water. She lowered her hand to swirl it around. The water was ice cold, as was to be expected toward the end of February. Perfect. She lowered her lower body into the river. The roaring of the rapids sounded in her ears as she walked deeper and deeper into the river. It was up to her waist when she heard an old pick-up truck with a familiar sounding engine.

And who else did it belong to except Joe Lamb. The boy who saved her had come to her rescue again. Except this time, she didn't want it. She heard the engine cut and his footsteps pounding down the winding trail to the riverbank, echoing off the trees on the dirt path.

"Alice!" She heard him scream. She saw him at the top of the hill. His eyes were terrified and worried, and he looked frozen as he saw her in the river.

"I love you Joe. Goodbye." She whispered. She knew he couldn't actually hear her, but the look on his face said he got the message loud and clear. And with that, she took one last gulp of air in her lungs before plunging into the freezing river and letting her body drift with the current.

Pain. That's what she felt. The icy water began to fill her lungs as she felt her body turn this way and that with the river. She tried to get her mind off of it by thinking of everything in her life that had happened.

Her mom leaving, moving to Lillian, meeting Joe in 1st grade, doing the movie, the alien, the gang, her dad... and then, her mind wandered back to Joe again. It wandered back to everything about Joe. She thought back to the first time they met, in Ms. Carol's class, Joe had came up to her on her first day and tried to be nice. In return, she broke his crayon. She remembered how up until the summer of 79' he had never even tried to talk to her again. Sure, he'd notice her, look at her, and she's pretty sure she caught him staring a few times, but he never spoke another word until that night, on the last day of eighth grade. She remembered how he was happily surprised by the fact that she actually knew his dad was Deputy Lamb. And when he said she could trust him, that was the moment when she thought maybe there's more to Joe Lamb than she thought. Which is why, looking back, her lips almost curved into a smile and she let him come along. And she was glad she did. She thought back to the time when he told her about his mom's necklace. She felt so special that he would share something so private and personal with her, not even knowing her more than a few days. And she felt the same too, that one night, where she left her house and went to his. She didn't even know why. Something just pulled her there. And now, she was awfully glad she had, because that was the night when he told her about his mom. And she knew that there was something between the two of them. Because you don't tell just anybody something like that. She would know. She never let just anybody see her cry. You have to be pretty damn special for that to happen. And one last memory popped up, front and center in her mind, more vivid than any other memory in her life. Waking up to see his relieved face in the dark and dank cavern, his chocolate brown eyes washed over in relief and happiness.

And just like that, Alice Dainard had a reason.

Her eyes snapped open as she screamed his name, the sound of it muffled and distorted by the water. She clawed desperately and tried to get footing anywhere she could, but it was too deep. She flailed as the water burned her eyes and filled her lungs. She couldn't die. She couldn't do this to herself. She had too much to live for. She had Joe. Despite what she thought, she was never really alone. Joe had been with her every step of the way these past two years. She was too blind to see it. She kept pushing him away. She was buried in so much pain and sadness, she couldn't see the one person who noticed and cared.

Who had seen her getting skinnier and paler and unhealthier? He had. Who had asked why she started wearing lond sleeved shirts? He had. Who had asked why she never put her hair up anymore? He had. Who made her feel alive and worthy and happy while she was goin through all this bullshit, even if it was just for one day? Joe Lamb had. As long as she had him, she had something to live for.

But there she was, drowning in an ice-cold river. 'So this is it. I came to die, and now I want to live. But I can't. This is the end of Alice Dainard.' Alice thought as the current threw her around like a rag doll.

She felt herself getting tired and dizzy and weak and her mind was becoming blank and she thought she'd be gone forever when she felt arms grabbing her waist. Suddenly, her head was above the water. She felt the rain pouring onto her face and her vision was blurred and stung from the water and she coughed out all the water that had filled her lungs. Her vision became normal again as she panted and gasped, desperately to breathe in air again, as thin and useless the frigid winter air was.

And who would have rescued her but Joe Lamb. He had an arm wrapped around her frail, thin body and was trying to swim to shore with the other one. His efforts were clearly paying off as they got closer and closer. She just kept trying to breathe, happy to be out of the water. They finally staggered onto shore before they collapsed, exhausted and tired, onto the ground.

"Don't you ever do that to me again Alice Dainard. Ever." He panted as he lay on his back, trying to fill his lungs with the unforgiving winter air. She looked out at the river. It all seemed so surreal. She was just caught in it's evil, icy clutches and would've died if it weren't for Joe.

She'd be dead right now if it weren't for him. She would be dead. The significance and totality of it registered with her as she sat on the ground. Sobs racked her body as she flung her arms around Joe's neck and cried into his shoulder. She cried from all the pain, the sorrow, the regret, the love, happiness, and every feeling that popped up. Each sob she heaved all seemed to be for something different.

"I'm so sorry! I don't want to die! I thought I did, but I don't! It was just so stupid and I'd be dead if it weren't for you! You just saved my life! Again! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I can't leave you! I'd be dead without you Joe! Dead! I don't deserve you! I'm just so sorry" She cried through the sobs and the tears as thunder deafeningly roared across the dark night sky. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, stroking her hair and whispering to her.

"Sssshhhhh. It's okay Alice. It's okay. You're gonna be okay. I love you." He whsipered. Her cries slowly ceased as what he said settled in her mind. She pulled back and looked at him.

"But why? How can you love someone as broken as me! I'm a mess! I'm worthless! I'm a disappointment! You can do so much better than me! And you deserve better than me!" She yelled. And she honestly felt that way. Joe looked at her with a pained expression.

"No Alice! You're not! You're beautiful and you can't even see it! You're just lost and confused. I don't know what you've been through in the past few years, and I don't know what you've done, but nothing in this world can ever change my mind about you! And I know something is up with you and your dad. You just need someone to help fix you Alice. And I can do that. I will try to fix you Alice, but you have to let me." He said, grabbing her shoulders and looking into her eyes. Her blue ones met his brown ones and she let out a light cry as she nodded and she wrapped his arms around his neck. Joe just held her tight and let her cry, soothing her, comforting her.

It was that February day when Alice Dainard realized she has too much to live for. She has her friends, she has Joe, she has people that care. Even if she doesn't have her family, she'll have someone. Alice Dainard realized that she could be fixed. Alice Dainard realized she could be saved. She realized Joe Lamb, the boy she loved and who loved her, would always be there to save her. And he would be the one to fix her

And I will try to fix you

AN- SO, I know it might not make sense to you. The thing is, Alice's dad abused her for 2 years from a little after when the movie takes place to February in 1981, their Junior year. During that time, she develops cutting problems and an eating disorder. It is told from her point of view, so this is where it gets confusing. She thinks that she is growing apart from the guys, but in reality, she's not noticing they're there, ESPECIALLY JOE, and closing them out. Which is what adds up to the ending. So review, favorite, whatever. I think this is one of my better pieces, and I finally edited it:) So, yeah... bye.

THIS WAS MAJORLY INSPIRED BY FIX YOU BY COLDPLAY, HENCE THE TITLE

Disclaimer: I'm 15. Of course I don't own Super 8.