Thank you for reviewing! Sorry I haven't written for a while. I was really busy and distracted. Here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

To Bleed Dry

(Brooke's POV)

So it became a routine. Every night before I went to sleep, I would hurt myself. I wouldn't always cut because that would be impractical, but anything that produced excruciating physical pain, I was up for.

I am now on my way to school in my car. The stereo is blasting music and I rock my head to the beat. School was a routine now as well. I would walk into school with a smile on my face and my stylish clothes on and act peachy, as though everything in the world was perfect. I would go from class to class and pick up what I could with my short attention span. I would pretty much be plastic and perky. The double P's that I lived by.

I drove into the school parking lot and parked in my usual parking spot. I got out of my car and headed into the school building. 'Here we go,' I thought. I pasted on my smile and walked with the typical Brooke swagger, occasionally winking or nodding to acquaintances. That's all they were to me, acquaintances. I can no longer have any emotional attachment to anyone; it's just too hard.

I walk to my locker and open it up. I shovel my books around to get ready for my classes. As I pull a notebook out, a picture falls from its pages and onto the floor. I put the notebook in my arms and squat down to pick up the photo. My breath catches in my throat and I take a few seconds to look at the moment captured on film.

It was of Lucas and I on the beach. He was sitting on a towel and I was sitting between his legs, my back leaning against his chest. He had his broody thinking face on and I had a look of happiness and content. We both were looking out at the ocean and the sun was just about to set. I remember that day and the warmth and acceptance I felt. I remember the feeling of absolute bliss and I shudder at the thought of Lucas not feeling the same way at the moment of the picture. Peyton had taken the picture for us. Peyton was there, witnessing my happiness and yet she did what she did anyway.

I scowl at the picture of me during my state of stupidity and I crumple and throw the picture back onto the floor. I slam my locker close and I stalk to my next class, forgetting the smile that I was supposed to be wearing. I was instead wielding a frown and a look of anger. The face of what I really felt.

(Lucas' POV)

The lyrics of the song "Photograph" by Nickelback play in my ears. I tap my pen to the beat, trying to concentrate on my history paper. I try to think about the American Revolution, but my mind keeps tending to drift elsewhere. I look around the promenade at other students and then I glance to my front. Peyton was sitting in front of me doing her homework as well. My mind goes from the Revolution to the lyrics of the song.

Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.

My mind drifted back to the conversation I had with Brooke. Well, more like that argument I had with Brooke four days ago. I haven't attempted to speak with her since then. I catch her eyes in the hallway every once in a while, but I can't read them. They are void of emotion.

The "I-hate-you's" still linger in my mind. She was so angry and broken and honest. She meant every word she said that day. Brooke Davis hated me. I don't know why I care so much, but I do. Maybe it's because she would be a great friend or maybe because of who I know she has potential to be, that I want to help her. I am not fooled like everyone else. I can see through her and she is struggling.

But she said it. She said her goodbye to me. She made it loud and clear that she didn't want to talk to me again. I have to though. I need to. I have to push and persist and even if she hates me even more than she already does, in the end I'll know that I tried my hardest. I don't want to end our relationship with that last argument and with those last three words.

I miss that town
I miss the faces
You can't erase
You can't replace it
I miss it now
I can't believe it
So hard to stay
Too hard to leave it

I look across from me at Peyton. I don't know what she would think if I started talking with Brooke again. Peyton told me how she has been trying with Brooke and how Brooke has answered her with nothing but hatred. I look at the golden locks that frame Peyton's pale face. The same locks that got stuck to the necklace that Brooke got me when we temporarily lost control at the motel.

I am disappointed in myself. I am ashamed of the way I behaved and what I have done. Haley is mad at me and is momentarily not speaking to me. I had an argument with her about her relationship with Nathan a week ago and she retaliated by commenting on my relationship with Peyton and Brooke. Everything was falling apart.

I can't lose any of them. I know I have to talk to Haley and in a while, maybe I give another try at talking it over with Brooke. I don't know what I'd do without any of my friends. I look back at the past and realize how lucky I am to have Haley and to have had Brooke for a little while.

If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never

I know that I don't regret every going out with Brooke. In the beginning of the relationship, I have gotten with her because I was on the rebound, but there were moments of our time together that I would never trade in for the world. There was the time when she took me to get a tattoo. And the time when she decided that she wanted to walk on every street in Tree Hill and it took us all day to finish the task. I ended up giving her a piggyback ride home because she chose to wear her cute shoes instead of the practical sneaker and got blisters. There was the night on the beach when we stayed there till sunset with Peyton and stayed on the beach long after Peyton decided to leave. We just looked up at the stars and talked about our futures and fears and hopes. She had allowed me into her heart that night and I saw a side of Brooke that no one else knows. I felt privileged to be her boyfriend.

I sigh and close my book. There I no way I am going to get this paper done. I look at Peyton who glanced at her watch and then closed her books too, deciding she had had enough. She folded her arms on the table and grinned at me. I chuckled at her.

"What are you thinking?" she asked me.

"About everything and nothing in particular," I answered slyly.

"Want to know what I'm thinking about?"

"Sure."

"Brooke," she answered curtly. She let out a sigh.

"Were you thinking about her too?" she asked me.

"Yeah I was for a moment there," I answer back at her. Peyton casts her eyes down at the table. "What were we doing Peyton?"

Peyton looks up at me and raises her eyebrows questioningly.

"No, I don't mean to say that I'm not glad to be with you because I am. But why did we do it this way? I mean, we hurt Brooke. This is the kind of shit you see in movies and never really happens in real life and I never imagined myself cheating on anyone ever. I'm not blaming it on you, rather on the situation. What were we thinking?"

I saw Peyton's sigh of relief as I clarified my response.

"I don't really know what we were thinking," Peyton said. I could see her thinking face on. I sighed and just stared at her, the girl for whom betrayed my virtues. I never thought that I would cheat or lie or become involved in a relationship that I knew I wasn't committed to, but it happened. I wish it hadn't happened the way it did. I just couldn't make up my mind and when Brooke came to me, I acted upon impulse, rather than what my heart was saying. It wasn't saying that I could never love Brooke; it was telling me that I couldn't fully love this person until I am over Peyton. I jumped in without thinking and landed and broke Brooke in the process. I hate self-discovery.

"Lucas, are you having second thoughts about our relationship?" Peyton asked me.

"No, no of course not."

"Okay. Good, cause I don't know what I'd do without either one of my best friends right now," Peyton explained to me.

"It'll be okay Peyton. Brooke will be okay. Just give her time," She leaned across the table and gave me a kiss on the lips. I returned the small favor while trying to convince myself, rather than her, that everything will be okay. I'm not too sure.

(Brooke's POV)

I saw them in the quad. They were kissing again. At that moment I could literally feel the bile churning in my stomach, threatening to come up. The tender kisses he once shared with me are now meaningless because all the while he really wanted to share them with another girl. I quickly walked to my locker to collect my books to go home.

I walked straight ahead and the sea of students parted for me. I gave curt smiles and the occasional wave, my hand no longer bandaged up. It had healed over and was good as new. No one would ever be able to tell what I felt by my exterior, well all except for my forearm, which was battered.

I turn the corner in disgust and I accidentally run into a body. I hear a shocked help and I stumble backwards a few steps. Standing in front of me is Tutorgirl or Haley. She crouches down and quickly retrieves the books that had fallen in the collision. She stands up again and mutters a sorry. And then she looked up and locked eyes with me. I could immediately read her expression. It was of pity. She didn't have to voice her condolences. No one would dare say them to her face, but she could see it.

"Yeah, whatever," I quickly say and I walk past her as though the run in did not shake me. As I walk I glance at the faces that dare to glance at me. They are all sorry for me. Their pity is smothering. I have to get out of here. I hold my head higher and I stride to my car. It was already towards the end of the day, so skipping my gym and art class wouldn't kill her.

I get into my car and drive out of the parking lot. I head to one of the only places I found comfort. I turned on the radio and nodded my head to the tunes as I completed the half hour drive to the beach. I park my car and slip my shoes off.

I walked down boardwalk and I feel relief when my feet hit the damp, cool sand. The chilling wind and cold air sent chills through my body. I hug my jean jacket tighter around me as I walk down closer to the shoreline. I stop just before my toes touch the water.

Lucas and I came down to the beach almost every other day of the week. It wasn't warm when we were dating, but we both appreciated its beauty. We would stay out all night on a blanket and just talk. We'd walk out onto the rock jetties and look at the ocean. The beach was a place that both of us understood. Now, for me, it's just a place of memories.

I look around at familiar places and I sigh. Every place that I have ever been with him will never be the same. He has left his mark everywhere. Hell, I can't even go to the drugstore without thinking about the time Deb caught us buying whip cream and condoms. I chuckle a little at the memory of Lucas' face.

As I watch the sun set, I realize nothing will be the same again. Beauty will never hold the same meaning.

(Brooke's POV)

I open my front door and toss my bags on the floor. Cheerleading practice was coming along well. The routine was revamped and the tricks were amazing. I am going to blow Claire Young out of the water, I thought.

I close the door behind me, kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. I walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. As I entered the kitchen, I saw the housekeeper, Louisa, crying. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her hands on her head and her back shook as she silently whimpered.

"Louisa," I said apprehensively. She was surprised at my voice and stood up immediately. The elderly housekeeper sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"Are you alright?" I asked her. I gave her a small smile and she nodded.

"Miss Davis, you have an important message on the machine," she said to me without looking at me. I nod my head and she curtly nods and exits the kitchen. I turn around to watch her leave. I wonder what's going on with her, I thought to myself.

I walked to the refrigerator and grab a water bottle. I opened it up took a long swig and walked over to the answering machine. I pressed the button on it and leaned against the counter, waiting for the message to play.

"You have three new messages," said the mechanical voice of the machine.

"Message one: Brooke. Brooke, please. We need to talk. I know that sorry doesn't mean a lot to you right now, but you have to know that you're my best friend and that I love you. I know you won't call me back, but I'm trying and I'm not going to stop. BEEP."

Peyton. I scowl and shake my head.

"Message two: Brooke, darling, it's mommy."

Ugh. Just another one of her courtesy calls. It's not like my parents actually cared.

"Well, just wanted to call you to tell you that we're in the Bahamas right now and that we're going to be home in a couple of days. Ta ta. BEEP."

Well, I never hold my breath when it comes to my parents and their excursions. They're probably off to some other exotic paradise.

"Message three: This is a call for Brooke Penelope Davis regarding her parents, Daniel and Samantha Davis. I regret having to be the one to inform you that their private jet malfunctioned and crashed on their way home from the Bahamas on yesterday afternoon. I'm even more sorry to report that neither on of your parents made it. I'm sorry for your loss and I hope that you will be able to recuperate, but I need to speak with you about other matters concerning your father's will as soon as possible. Hope to hear from you soon. And again, I am very sorry for your loss. BEEP."

I can't speak. I can't breathe. I can't think. Instead, I run. I run out of the door, across the street, through the park, through the cemetery and to the bridge- the bridge by the River court. I just stand there. I stand there for what seems like hours. I don't speak, I don't breathe, I don't think. I am just being as I look over the water.

I open my dry lips and scream. A blood curling, heart wrenching cry. I scream again and again and again until I can't anymore. My throat is raw and burning as I close my lips and end the loud assault. Then I crumbled. I fell to my knees and cried. The tears pouring like rivers down my face.

My parents never really showed their affection for me. Ever since I was young they would leave me with a nanny and only visit me. Louisa was my caretaker since I was born. They never gave two shits about me. Never kissed my booboos, they never played with me at the park; they never read books to me night and tucked me into my bed. They were close to nonexistent when it came to me growing up.

So why am I crying? Why am I making a fuss over them when they never fussed about me? Why should them being gone upset me?

I look up at the dark sky and feel the pelting drops of rain on my face. They mix with my tears and soak me to the bone. As I sat there on the bridge, I came to a conclusion.

I'm crying because I love my mommy and daddy, in spite of everything. Every meaningless phone call they made to me was held in my heart. The occasional hug or kiss meant the world to me in that small, miniscule moment. But those moments were over because mommy and daddy are dead.

(Lucas' POV)

I dribbled the ball as I made my way to the River court for my Saturday morning workout. I crossed the street and made my way to the bridge. The sounds of Dashboard rang through my headphones as I got to the bridge. I looked up from the pavement and saw an unsettling sight.

Brooke was curled up on the sidewalk pavement asleep. She was damp and grungy from last night's rain. I quickly approached her sleeping form and pulled my earphones from my ears. I knelt down beside her and set my basketball down.

Brooke's eyes were puffy and her makeup had run making her eyes smudged and smoky.

"Brooke," I whispered in my attempt to wake her. She did not stir so I hesitantly put my hand on her shoulder. I gently shook her awake.

"Brooke?"

Brooke jumped up, as she was shocked out of her slumber. Her dark eyes were wide open as she slowly turned her eyes to meet mine. I moved my hand from her arm as she lifted herself up from the sidewalk. She just sat there and stared at me with her emotionless eyes. She turned her head and took in her surroundings as though she didn't know where she was.

I took a breath as to say something, but I quickly swallowed it. What would I say to her? I had no idea what was going on.

Brooke once again looked at me and her eyes suddenly welled up with tears. Rivers just flowed from her eyes and I just watched her, this beautiful, broken creature. I know that she hate me at the moment, but I couldn't resist. I sad on my butt next to her and tentatively, without breaking eye contact, wrapped my left arm around her. I felt her start at my touch and then relax. I wrapped my arm around her and slowly pulled her in to me. I felt her lean in to me and put her head on my shoulder. That's when she completely broke down. A part of me was breaking inside. I didn't know what was wrong, but to see her like this was painful.

Her body shook and wracked with sobs and I held her tight. We sat there for about twenty minutes before she finally calmed down enough to start breathing evenly. As much as I didn't want to let her go, I knew I had to in order to get some answers.

I slowly pulled away from her and sat so that I was facing her. Her head was downcast, hiding her tearstained face and red eyes.

"Brooke, what's going on?"

Brooke wiped her eyes and ran her hand through her hair as though she were trying to pretend nothing was the matter and that nothing happened.

"Brooke, look, I know that you," I took a breath, "I know that you… hate me, but you can still tell me what's wrong."

Brooke just shook her head and bit her lip. She started to breath strangely as though she were going to start crying again. She just kept shaking her head.

"How about this. You don't have to tell me what's wrong. I could just walk you home and forget what happened, or you could tell me what happened and I'll drive you home and you can forget we had the conversation. How about that?"

I sighed and rubbed the back of my head. I was in a predicament. Here she was, a total mess. Something is obviously the matter, something serious, and she won't say a word. I want to help her, but I'm the one person that she doesn't want to be around.

"My…" Brooke whispered almost inaudibly.

I turned my head to her and listened intently. I was silently willing her to talk.

"My mom… and my dad," she said as the tears once again began their silent flow down her face.

"They're gone," she said as her voice cracked.

"They're gone. They're gone. They're gone," Brooke repeated over and over again as she rocked back and forth.

My heart broke for Brooke. I couldn't imagine losing my mom and Keith.

"Brooke, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

What else could you say to someone who just lost her parents? "They're in a better place" or "This was meant to be." Nothing sufficed.

"Let's go," I said as I got to my feet and gently grabbed onto Brooke's forearm. I helped her up onto her bare feet. I don't think she even knew what was going on as we began our slow walk back to her house. After twenty-five silent minutes we got back to her house. I opened up her front door and led her up to her bedroom. I sat her down on her bed and went to the bathroom to get her a towel.

I was stunned when I walked into the bathroom. Her mirror was broken with some of the shards on the bathroom floor. Some of the shards were covered with dry blood. Brooke, what has happened to you, I thought as I grabbed her towel and quickly get back to Brooke. Brooke is like a zombie as I unzip her hoodie and pull it off. Taking off her wet shirt soon follows. I go into her drawers and grab a big t-shirt. I pull it over her head. I then slip off her wet track pants. I take the towel and do what I can to dry her hair. When I finished I knelt in front of her.

"Brooke, do you want me to leave?" I ask her hoping she would say no. But she nods her head for me to depart and I must comply, as it was part of the deal. I gave her a half smile and got up to leave.

"Lucas," she says as I stop and turn around. "Remember. This never happened."

I nodded and once again walk to leave, but not without stealing one more glance of her. She just sat and stared at the floor. Broken, defeated, and lonely. She was in the darkest of places and I don't know if anyone could pull her out.

So review please. I promise I won't wait this long to update ever again.