Okay, time for a little clarification: this is not the end. Becuase that would be lame, lol. I'm going to write another chapter. I don't know how many, could be a 3-shot or a 5-shot. I don't know. I'll just write until I think the story is finished. ;)

Shout Out to RememberxDecember: You reminded me that there was more than one "In The End" that I liked. That's the soundtrack for this chapter, so thanks!

Also, SHOUT OUT 2: xxxerinlouisexxx, b.c she truly got the gist (jist?) of this story, something I hadn't even seen until she mentioned it-and well, your comments are some of the best I've ever recieved. :D So kudos to you, my friend!

Go to my profile and listen to the soundtrack!

Review pretty please! ;]

-sxg

In The End

Part 2

An erratic gasp slipped from my teeth and pierced the air with its haunting voice.

It sent shivers down my arms, and the arms that were squeezing mine. Its bizarre sound and the terrifying feeling it left behind sparked me out of my dream haze. My eyes were open and wide, soaking in the sharpness of the scene surrounding me now. What happened to me? Shaking, cold, and wet, I glanced around the room like a lost little girl—the only person I've ever been.

I was lying on the ground. And someone was holding me, staring down at me, shouting words I couldn't hear just yet. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was as if an unknown force took a rag and cleaned away the haze; and pushed me back into the world of the real.

"Sharpay? Can you hear me?" he said.

"Yes," I said softly. Then with more surprise, "Yes, yes. I can hear you." Finally, my eyes moved to his face. I saw. But my brain wasn't ready to comprehend the full meaning—unable to even try to understand why it was Troy Bolton leaning over top of me.

"Oh my God," he said with a scared sigh. "I thought…." He couldn't even finish his sentence; he just covered his face and released his tight grip on my arms.

My brows were squeezed together, and a lump had suddenly appeared in my throat, as I looked up at his weary frame. I was straddling a vulgar dream world and the cutting edge of reality. Nothing processed correctly.

All I could do was breathe in. And breathe out.

"Do you think you can sit up?" Troy suddenly asked, quietly. I gave him a half-nod, quite comfortable on the tile floor where I lay. If I moved, I might have to dive in, head over heels, into this emotional wreck of reality. But if I could just stay like this for a few moments, maybe the transformation would be gentle.

But I couldn't verbalize any of this.

So, Troy reached out to me, sliding his hand behind my neck and the other on my waist—ready to help me. Together we sat up, slowly and softly. All I remembered was lying down, his warm hands, and the next thing I knew, we had our backs against the wall. My brain faded in and out of the memories—sometimes I could smell and taste each little particle in the room, while the other half suffered like a trace of a bad dream.

"Do you remember what happened?" Troy whispered, tucking a strand of my soggy locks behind my ear. He twisted himself to meet my eyes.

I shook my head no. Then I glanced down at the soaking wet gown stuck to my skin, heavy and itchy. A thousand tiny memories flashed before me. I looked back at Troy, not sure if I was even seeing his face. And I nodded yes.

"Ryan died."

Troy sighed deeply, keeping his eyes on mine, "I know," he said soothingly. "I was at the funeral too."

I shook my head. He didn't get it.

"No, Ryan died."

Troy's hand lingered at the back of my neck.

"What happened?" he asked again, his voice soft as ever.

"I took a bath." I moved my eyes back to his, and then away again.

"I know. That's where I found you unconscious, at the bottom of the tub."

"Oh."

"Shar…" he sighed that same frightened breath of air. I could feel his eyes roaming my face steadily, but I remained still and cold. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, as he pulled me into his chest, his chin nestled in my hair.

Falling into another human body, when I was frightened and heartbroken, was all I wanted. I just wanted someone to fall back on. Just one person to shield me from the rain. Just one, soft and warm.

Slowly, I shifted into Troy further, wrapping my pale arms around him.

"I was just trying to figure it all out," I said suddenly. I don't know what possessed me—it just came out. "I wanted to know what it feels like to die. I wanted to feel something, anything." As I spoke, tears slid down my cheeks. "I just wanted to know why. Why I didn't do anything to stop it. Why I let him go."

I couldn't say anymore, the sadness clogged my throat. I just cried and cried and cried. And Troy just held me.