HEY! :D

So…I DON'T KNOW HOW TO THANK YOU. Honestly, though. THANK YOU. You have no idea how much your support means to me. I…thank you. THANK YOU! You're all amazing, and I'm sorry to say that this will be the last chapter to this short little story.

Also…Maybe it's too much to ask…but please, please, pick your favorite parts, your favorite lines, and add them in your review. I'd love to read them. Please.

I hope you like this. I really hope you do. Thanks for reading. You're the best.

But…now, onto the actual chapter, since I know this is probably boring to you.

Enjoy&Review!

On my way to school the next day, I first head to Sonic Boom.

The store is closed, and there's a black bow on the front, with Ally's picture in black and white, plastered on the glass. When I see it, my throat closes up, and I feel like I might start crying again, but I stop myself. I've promised myself I won't cry anymore. I'll be strong. For her.

I use the same tree to get to the practice room, whose window is, luckily, still ajar. As I jump in, I get a flash back to the last time I did this, and I imagine seeing Ally's body again. I shudder at the thought.

Her brown songbook is lying on top of the piano, and I seize it, and stuff it into the back. I want to read what she wrote, even though it may bring even worse thoughts in to my head. Without touching or looking at anything else, I sneak back out of the window, down the tree, and head towards the school.

It looks the same from the outside, and for a moment I think that maybe it's all been a nightmare. Maybe I had imagined it. Maybe I had gone out with Dez and drank a little more than I should've, and I had some horrible hallucinations. But of course, it isn't the case.

The door flies open in front of me as someone hurries to get out, and I sneak in before it closes. As I walk down the crowded hallway, I keep my head down. People mutter my name, and I know without being told, that the rumor about me receiving the tapes has already spread throughout the entire school. I don't know how, or who did it, and I don't want to know.

Some people try to talk to me, but I don't answer. I've made a promise to myself not to talk today, as a sort of tribute to Ally.

Ally.

Even thinking her name brings a pang of pain in my chest, and my whole body is filled with the panic of despair.

I get through the first couple of classes all right, every little thing reminding me of Ally. As I sit in math class, and stare at her empty table, I half-expect her to be there, her smile bright, her eyes alight, and flooding with energy and life. Even though I know it's just a crazy thought, I'm still disappointed when my eyes meet the nothingness of her empty seat.

When lunch comes around, I feel relieved, because answering questions in class without actually talking is a hard thing to do. Nonetheless, I managed to keep my mouth shut, and eventually the teachers ignored me.

After getting my food, I sit at a table alone. I don't know where Trish and Dez are, but I don't want to see them. I can't see them. Not when Ally's words are fresh in my mind, and the image of her lifeless body, like a rag doll, lying motionless on the floor.

Eating lunch isolated from the other kids is bliss. I don't have to talk to anyone, and I have managed to shut out all the other noise with headphones, so I don't hear them either. After fighting with myself for a moment, I take out my bag and probe inside for the book. Finally, my hands close around the leather cover, and I place the book on my lap.

Day 1.

Austin's out again. I'm feeling this thing…I don't know what it is. Trish calls in jealousy. It's more than that, I think.

It's much, much worse.

I want to kill myself. It's silly, I know, but I write it anyway because no one here can judge me. It feels great.

What am I going to do? I want to escape.

How to escape? I don't know.

I don't know.

Nothing makes sense, it's like she wrote the sentences in separate days, when separate things were going through her mind. Maybe that's what it's like to feel depressed; you feel things, but you don't know exactly what you're feeling, you just want to make those feelings stop.

I close the book in frustration, before I can read anymore. I can't do it. I don't want to do it either, not here. The last thing I want is to have an emotional breakdown in the middle of the school.

Suddenly, I feel someone approaching me, and immediately stuff the book in my bag and away from any possible harm. I look up then, and my eyes meet Mathew Kingston's, who has his arm swung over Kyla Blake's shoulders. They're two of the worst bullies in school, and I know for a fact that they tormented Ally, too.

I want to yell at them to leave me alone, but I'm resigned to keeping my silence. I tear my headphones out to hear what they have to say.

"Austin," Kyla says sadly. Her face is scrunched up in pretend grief, and if she weren't a girl, I would've wiped up that expression away with my fist. "Such a terrible thing that happened. I feel bad for Ally." I know she doesn't mean it. She doesn't care. She never did.

Mathew laughs sharply, and I glare at him. He's a stocky built guy, with broad shoulders, and muscular arms. His jet-black hair is swept high of his face, with a rather large amount of jell. His brown eyes are gleaming. "Ky, you're being silly. Don't feel bad for Ally. She isn't here anymore, is she? Little coward. Shame, it is. But she's gone now, so who cares."

They're about to walk away, but I get up abruptly, and stand face-to-face with Mathew. At that moment, keeping my silence isn't the thing on my mind. I grit my teeth. I'm much taller than Mathew, and I could take him with ease, but I'm not going to fight. Ally wouldn't have liked it. "You little asshole. Don't you dare speak about her that way. You don't deserve to even utter her name." I'm so angry, that spit flies from my mouth as I talk.

"She was a coward. Killed herself. Over what? No one knows. Probably something stupid. Probably did it for attention. Who cares if I talk about her or not? She's not here anymore," Mathew snarls back.

I stand a little taller, so that I look down on him. "Ally will be here, as long as the memory of her is alive. And as long as I'm alive, her memory will be too."

Then, without another word, I set off to find Dez and Trish, a plan already forming in my head.

/

Dez and Trish are outside.

I find them near the car park, sitting on a bench. Trish has her head in her lap, and she's sobbing so hard her whole body is shaking. Dez's gentle voice does little to reassure her.

He looks up when he hears me approach, and gives me a remorseful look, which I despise. I want to yell at him for looking at me that way, like I'm an animal he just ran over with his car, but instead I say nothing as I take a seat next to him.

"We've got to do something," I mutter after a long while of silence. When Trish hears my voice, she looks up. She wears no makeup, but her cheeks are smudged with the makeup from yesterday. She's been crying the whole time, no doubt in that.

Then I realize why she was yelling 'I'm sorry' when I called her. It turns out she did have something to be sorry about. Then I get the strong urge to tell her off, to accuse her of our loss, but then I'm realizing that I'm as much to blame as her, so I shut up. Maybe we were the only two people she bothered sending something to, (I had heard that Trish had received a tape herself), but there were probably other people who had pushed Ally a little closer to the edge of the cliff she was longing to flung herself off from.

"About what?" Trish mutters. Her voice is hoarse from crying.

I look at her and Dez and then back at the nothingness of the distance. "Isn't it obvious," I ask. "We've got to do something for Ally."

/

We miss the next few days of school.

Day and night, we spent locked up in my room, trying to come up with a plan. With the thrill of doing something, we've forgotten our worries for a while, and it feels amazing. There's something about being surrounded by friends you love that makes you feel better.

Even laughter can be heard from my room, and my mom finally thinks I've recovered, even though I refuse to tell her what was bothering me in the first place. I probably should, but I think of it as something that only Trish, Dez, Mr. Dawson and I deserve to really know about.

Over the days when we don't go to school, we pay Mr. Dawson a couple of visits. He's decided against a funeral for Ally, and won't tell us why. Though he's a bit better, and listens to us carefully as we explain the plan, he only nods and gives us half-hearted smiles. Finally, there's nothing left to say, and nothing left to do, so we quickly say goodbye and leave him to stare out an empty window.

Finally, the big day arrives.

On the morning before school, I put on my black suit, with a red tie, since it was Ally's favorite color. Dez and Trish, who slept at my house, are decked out too; Dez is wearing the same thing as I am, and Trish is wearing a slim red dress in which she looks like a model in.

We stuff all of the things we'll be needing into a large bag, which I sling over my shoulders. My mom doesn't question why we're dressed that way, but she looks surprised as we all descend for breakfast, looking as though we're headed for prom.

As I stuff myself with the bacon and eggs she's made, and savor their delicious taste, I decide that she's my mom, and she knew and loved Ally, so I should tell her. It's only reasonable to. Before starting to speak, I throw a side-ways glance at Trish and Dez, and shift nervously.

"Um…mom?" My voice rings through the silent kitchen.

Her head whips around in my direction. "What is it?" I haven't spoken to her in a long time. It's only then that I realize I miss her voice.

"Mom…Ally, she…"

She puts up her hand to stop me. "I know. James, Ally's dad, told me."

"Wait…you've known, all this time? Why didn't you say anything?"

My mom sighs, sits down, and takes my hand. "Because I knew you didn't want me to say anything. Austin honey, you were hurting, and because of you, so was I. I wanted to talk to you, to make you feel better. But you shut yourself up in that room of yours, and I thought…I thought that intruding in your life, when you needed to be alone, wouldn't be a good idea."

I feel my eyes burning. I haven't cried in days, and it feels uncomfortable to do it in front of Dez and Trish, and even my mom. But it's no use; the tears fall freely.

"Mom," I whisper, wiping a tear from the bridge of my nose. "Mom. People always need attention. But sometimes…we don't know we do. Or," I pause to stifle a sob. "Or we're just waiting for someone to notice how much we need it, and give it to us."

She hugs me tight then, in front of my friends, but I don't feel embarrassed. I'm hugging my mom, and it feels amazing, and I never want to let go. Since forever, I feel safe.

When we let go, Trish, Dez and I set off towards the school. It's not a long way away, but in my suit, with the Florida sun blazing down on us, I start to sweat. Nevertheless, the weather is great, as if it heard what we were planning to do, and decided to help.

The sun blazes amid a cloudless sky. There's a small breeze, which makes the palm trees sway, as if dancing to a tune we can't hear. Suddenly I feel nostalgic.

Finally, we reach the school gates. The kids hanging around the entrance give us curious looks, probably wondering why we're dressed in suits. We ignore them, and walk straight to our classes, without further ado. Everything is normal, until the assembly.

Dez and Trish catch up with me at the door to the great hall, where the assembly is held. "Ready?" I ask.

They nod, which makes me grin. "Then, let part one begin."

We file in along with the rest of the students, and take a seat close to the stage, so we'll have better access to it, if we need to get on. And, sure enough, two minutes in, we're called to make a speech. Before we get up, I push a handful of flyers into Dez's outstretched hand, and he sets off to distribute them to the chattering hall.

Trish and I climb onstage, and are greeted by a faint applause. I clear my throat. "By now, all of you should have received your flyer. And if you're wondering what it's about, then we're here to tell you."

I hand Trish the mic. "This is for everyone crying in the bathroom at lunch time. This is for everyone bullying because they were being bullied themselves. This is for everyone, who is standing right on the edge. This is the Give Depression Some Depression club. You'll see a number on the flyer. This is the hotline for depression thoughts. It is for anyone, brave enough to live."

And then we climb off stage, followed by a roar of applause.

Since the assembly was at the end of the day, we grab our school bags and then walk out of school, everyone else trotting behind us, discussion about the assembly on the tip of their tongues.

"Now, for the final, and best part," Dez mutters. He slings the bag he's carrying from his shoulder, and turns towards the other students. "Everyone!" He roars. The crowd turns to him in curiosity. After out speech, they have no idea what to expect. "This is for the girl with the master smile, who managed to fool us all. We're sorry, for this," he says, eyes at the sky. Then, with fierce determination burning within his eyes, he mutters something into the walkie-talkie he took out from his bag, and turns towards the crowd once again. He's smiling, and so am I.

"THIS ONE," he yells, "IS FOR ALLY DAWSON!"

And then the fireworks erupt. Thousands and thousands of then illuminate the sky above the school. It's past 6 pm, since the assembly had us finish late, and the sky is already starting to darken, so they look amazing against the faint light of the sunset.

There's four different colors; red for Ally, green for Dez, purple for Trish, and yellow for me. The colors form the words that still feel like they are ringing through my years, this one is for Ally Dawson, the girl with the master smile.

Dez is yelling something, and he looks like he just won the lottery; his face alight with the thrill of the moment. I hug him, and Trish joins too, and soon the whole school, as if forgotten all the rumors they've heard, and all the things they've ever done, start chanting.

Hundreds of voices mingled together with some kind of hope that makes my heart ache, but it's a new kind of ache; I love it. It feels as if I'm drinking hot chocolate, or playing on stage, only it's ten times better.

It's amazing.

"ALLY, ALLY, ALLY, ALLY, ALLY!" Everyone yells. So do we. It's amazing.

They'll remember you Ally.

I'll remember you.

Everyone will.

Forever.

You're immortal now.

Immortal.

and this has been, "At Last I See The Light".