hey peoples! school is finally over, and with summer i have plenty of time to write, and it definitely helps that i have the next few chapters already written, though they're not typed. but, unfortunately, i'm a notoriously slow typer. sorry its taken me so long to update, been grounded for a little while, but now i'm free to write!:) so here's the next chapter, its not much of a happy one. REMEMBER rated T for a reason!!!

Three weeks. It had been three weeks, and the police found my mothers body washed up on the shore.

I doodled absentmindedly on a scrap sheet of paper, not bothering to pretend that I was listening to the teachers lesson. I sat alone in the back of the class, I never bothered to try and make friends here, so thankfully, I didn't have to pay attention to anything other than my thoughts. Plenty of people had tried to be friendly in the past, but as I repeatedly ignored them, they finally got the hint. I was protecting them, really, though they didn't realize it. This way they could enjoy their lives, as long as they stay safely away from me.

The teacher continued to drone on about the latest equation we were learning, and my thoughts stayed on my mother. Martin decided to through her body into the ocean the day after she died, making me call him at work so that he could pretend my mother was telling him her plans to go for a walk on the beach. It gave him a solid alibi, when the police found her, it was filed as an accidental drowning. Case closed.

I thought of the small funeral, of Martins glares of distaste towards both myself and my mothers closed casket. And finally, my last gift to her, a rose, similar to those she used to grow. Though they have withered and died, I had found one that still kept its rich crimson color. It stood out as a drop of blood against the white lilies, and I stared at it, even as they lowered her body into the ground, as Martin grabbed me roughly by the shoulders to leave before the funeral was even over.

The bell rang, causing me to jump, but then I rushed quickly, for the next half hour people would go to lunch, talk and eat with their friends. I almost ran through the halls in my excitement. I was not going to lunch, however. I was headed toward my only escape from the hell I was in.

I opened the door to the dark music room silently, flicking on the glaring flourecent light. I shut the door just as silently behind me and set my things down in the corner. I walked over to the wall of instruments on the other side, pulling out my favorite, an old school violin that I had secretly improved over the last couple months. I used to use the others, but then I found this dark paneled one abandoned in a corner. All it had really needed were some new strings, but it had many scars from old repairs, and so nobody wanted it.

My mother had been the one to inspire me from her playing the piano, but the violin was my love. I had started in middle school, and had shown great promise, but was forced to quit by Martin when he realized that it would cost a small fee to continue in high school. However, I had found the easy solution of skipping lunch, which I had normally spent alone anyways, and coming here.

I set up a stand near the old piano and tuned for a moment, before standing and shifting through their piles of sheet music before I made my choice,Meditation of Thais by Massenet. I pushed up my long, loose sleeves that hid my scars. Scars Martin had given me, consisting of a burn mark on my left forearm,and a long slash on my right from my wrist to the crease on my elbow. I also had many fresh bruises, and they were all hidden under my layers of loose clothing, as if I could hide the truth, even from myself.

I lifted my arms and took a deep breath, and then played the first honey sweet notes.

I smiled slightly as I played out the melody, shifting from a lower key to go higher, my vibrato easing in and out, making my heart throb. I played silently, then building up a crescendo, before lowering back down gradually. I played, forgetting all of my troubles, my life, my hell. I played and focused on the tone of the piece, not on the events of the last few weeks. When I was done, I played it again and again, trying to make my reprieve last longer.

Then on the last time, I ended on a note, high and sweet, when the bell rang shrilly, and I panicked to set up everything as it had been before the class could come. I almost didn't make it, and had to push past the people walking through the door.

My heart was still racing, the adrenaline running fast through my veins, when I stepped into my last class of the day. I sat once more into an isolated seat, and pulled at my long sleeves, an old nervous habit, making sure that they hid my scars. I waited out the next hour, playing music in my head.

When the bell finaly rang and released me, I walked slowly, prolonging the invitable. I always walked home, through the woods and to my house near the beach.

My feet dragged as I walked, reluctant to return to my harsh reality.

Martin was home, I could tell that much, his old car was parked in the driveway. I stapped silently up the walkway, and opened the door just far enough to let myself in. I tried to walk up the stairs as quietly as possible, wincing at the occasional screech as I stepped on a loose floorboard.

I was grateful when I made it to the top of the stairs without incident, and sighed in relief as I turned the corner to go to my room.

My breath caught in my throat, and I had to restrain myself from screaming, when I rounded the corner to run into Martin, standing with his arms crossed in front of my room, his dark eyes furious.

My heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing fast through my veins once more, and I felt as though I might vomit from this fear that suddenly went through me as he walked towards me.

I backed up as he came forward and yelled,"Where the hell were you?! You should have been here ten minutes ago!"

I opened my mouth to protest, but only a scream came out as he threw me down the stairs. I felt my eyes water, but I refused to cry. I could already see more bruises forming, and I had a cut on my face that was faintly stinging, but I could feel no broken bones, and for that I was grateful.

I tried to crawl away, scrambling to my feet as he came rushing dow the stairs. I still had not caught my breath, so he reached me before I could even stand. He kicked me, making me curl onto my side as he laughed maliciously at my pain. "You deserve this you know." he said, giving me another swift kick as I tried to retreat to the living room."I bet you aren't even mine."

I tried again to stand, this time succeding before he grabbbed my shirt and pulled me back towards him to be abruptly hit, hard, on the side of my head. I could feel the blood rushing out of the wound and into my hair. He was careful to avoid leaving another mark on my face.

I fell once more to the ground, and kicked him before he could do any more damage, giving me enough time to make a run for it. The head wound was making me light headed though, and I barely even made it five steps when Martin beat me to the floor once more. "Your mother was nothing but a whore." he said,"And neither are you."

He dragged me by my hair away from the door and into the living room, and I didn't have any strength left to me, and I could only try weakly to push away his hands as he pulled away my shirt. Tears started to fall now as he pinned me to the floor by my throat and pulled at my clothes...

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When he finally left me I curled around my clothes and sobbed. After a while I pulled them back on, noticing how many bruises I had now, mottled purple marks on my arms and legs.

The tears streamed now un-relentlessly as I ran out the door and towards the beach.

I walked barefoot through the sand, arms wrapped tightly around my torso. I didn't realize how far I had walked until I reached the cliffs.

I gazed up at them, an idea slowly forming, and climbed until I had reached the top.

I gazed out from the edge of the cliff at the grey waters below, the moonlight shining down on them, making my bruises stand out black against my pale skin. I stared at the crashing waves with wonder, knowing how peaceful it would be to fall into their depths, lost to the surface world forever.

I smiled at the thought.

I was worthless, he had said so, and now I truely felt it. I am weak, broken, and nobody would miss me. They wouldn't notice the empty seat, wouldn't notice I was gone.

I uncrossed my arms from my chest and held them at my sides, palms up, and raised my face to the moonlit sky, still smiling at the thought of my sweet release, and then I threw myself from the cliff.

I felt nothing but pure bliss as the water took me, suffocating me, drowning me. My body was freezing and numb to the pain, the feeling of ice in my blood, but my spirit was rejoicing as I slid into unconciousness. I was free...

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When I reluctantly came back into conciousness, I was on the shore, covered in sand, the matted blood standing out darkly in my light hair.

I choked up the water that was in my lungs as somebody was beating on my chest, saying"Breathe!"

When it seemed that all the water had left my lungs, I felt remorse. This is not death, not the release I had been searching for. And then anger, who was this person to keep me from what I wanted?

I opened my eyes, my sight adjusting to the dark, and saw the sillhouette of a man about my age against the moonlight. He had very dark hair, and though it was hard to tell in this light, I was almost certain that it was a deep black. His features were very handsome, angular, almost cat-like, and he had lean muscle under his pale skin. His grey eyes were filled with concern, and then as he saw me breathing, relief. He wiped my hair out of my eyes and smiled beautifully at me, his white teeth gleaming. "Hello there." he said quietly, stroking my face.

I jumped at his touch, and he pulled his hand back, gazing at me sadly, and then he stood suddenly and walked away quickly.

I sat up slowly, and looked around me, he was gone.

I stood up shaking, freezing in my wet clothes, and trudged unwillingly back to my house.

After I changed into dry clothes, I lay down on my bed, bringing my knees to my chest, feeling broken and worthless. I clutched myself tighter, willing myself not to cry.

I tried to call back the feeling of pure bliss as I jumped into the water, the look of the grey waves, but all I could think of were the smokey eyes of the man that saved me...

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yup, not a happy story so far, sorry

was glad that i could actually get this chapter in before i left, but i will be gone for a few days, so i won't be able to update for a while, sorry! this is a long chapter to make up for it

thanx for reading,

the-truth-about-heaven...