A/N: Here we go, last chapter. I would have updated yesterday, but I forgot. I was bound to, to be honest. But, I did promise I would update by this weekend. By the way, have a happy Easter everybody.

Disclaimer: I don't own KH. Just my idea.


Chapter 9: 7:03 PM

The sun has set by now with the sky looking at its most beautiful. How amazing that light can act as paint. The shades remind her of pastel paints every evening when the sun sets. Stars are out, and they're even further than they seem already. Olette is at the park outside of town, a breathlessly beautiful location with songbirds and man-made lakes. Best of all, it does not close for anyone or anything, unlike some of the parks in the city limits. All her life, if ever there was a good place to run to whenever she needed it, this was the place. A sanctuary like this offers comfort to those who need it. Currently, she relies on this solace, but she cannot help but be ill at ease. Her parents just insist on putting on the theatrics, don't they?

Verbal arguing has been pretty common as of late, but tonight was when it all came to a head. Tomorrow, she confidently assumes, her mother will give up keeping the family together and promptly file for divorce. If she was Mom, she would have given up ages ago to do the family a favor. There has been too much misery in her house, whereas her friends have absolutely no problems with their home lives. No wonder they don't understand her. No one does. Olette feels like she is on the edge, close to falling off. In fact, that fight was the breaking point for her. And her shouting at them was her finally snapping at last.

Blankly staring out at one of the lakes, she stands on a wooden bridge with no one around to talk to. She didn't bother to take her cellphone along. What with how emotional she had been upon leaving, she wouldn't have considered things like that. Cellphones are material. Here, in nature, there is nothing superficial or fake. It just is, like it has existed for as long as the earth has been around. Still shaken from tonight's events, though, she is not calm and not even close to being calm. It's official. Everything will be taken from her, stripped bare of what has been her put-together, normal life. It will feel like it anyway.

She has learned to despise feelings and the urge to cast them aside.

It's been one hell of a day, one for the history books. OK, not quite, Olette acknowledges with a fully resigned air, but it has arguably been the absolute worst day of her life. Though some would call it morbid, she nonetheless reflects on it and is completely stunned on how...normal it had all started out. Sure, she suffered from a horrifically uncanny dream, but it was nothing too serious. Frankly, the soda had done her in. And though this morning, sick thoughts attacked her mind, at least nothing terrible had happened. Then, hour by hour, her potentially good day diminished into something catastrophic. Stretching out her arms forward, Olette glances hopelessly down at the upturned palms.

With these hands, she could grope and try to grab at these broken pieces surrounding her to put them back together. Try as she might, it all comes back to what her father declared. Life isn't a puzzle that can be pieced together eventually and have it all solved and worked out. Life is full of twists and turns, a puppet that some higher power controls but knows not what direction the strings will go. If she has a fair say in the matter, she would rather slice those strings. Despair fills her heart, for it is as if she cannot stop her fate. That, whatever it is, it will be hurtful and agonizing.

Olette's anguish is immeasurable. In a cheesy metaphorical sense, it is as deep as the ocean and as wide as the universe. For, whatever is in her chest now is not an empty space. Space sounds like it is too infinitesimal of a describing word. It is a gaping black hole that swallows her up, and though she attempts to swim away with these hands, it's still not enough. One thing follows another in the sense of the wretched luck she has encountered recently. This hasn't been the first day when everything feels plain rotten. Melancholy days lapse into each other without much improvement. Nothing and no one seems to help.

Perhaps her friends could gently help her along, but at the end of the day, she is alone. Utterly alone, and who goes to the parties without dragging her along? Maybe, secretly, Pence, Hayner, Roxas, and even Xion worry that if she tags along, she'll cramp their style. And very rarely, they are in her classes. Too much honors work starts to take its toll. Why, oh why had she stuck with them? Sooner or later, she and her closest friends are going to be total strangers like she is with her parents. That situation in itself proves how distant she becomes from everybody, as though she has cut off a rope connecting her to them. Sorry, Mom, talking to a psychologist will not aid the cause.

During the day, Olette travels further and further away by herself while most everyone else doesn't offer her a "hi" or a "hey, what's up?"

It's more like, "Olette, what was last night's homework?" or "Olette, can I borrow some answers?"

What will it take to show those losers she is not a computer? Pounding her hands against the wooden railing, she begins trembling again, except this is even worse than she can imagine. She feels dead inside. She has died!

Looking around out of confusion and a lost sense, she wishes that there is somebody sane to talk to. She has figured to rule herself out as a valid option. No, she has gone past the breaking point, because that's when you're broken, right? Not to mention the prospect of rejection of something that would have blossomed into something romantically idyllic...Riku hadn't even given her a chance! But, hell with that asshole, he would have never offered her the time of day. She is too ugly for him, after all, isn't she?

Isn't she good enough for anybody, damn it?

Kneeling down due to her traitorous buckling knees, there are the sobs that rack her body. They've seized her and won't let go, like a straitjacket.

Though she cries, the sobs ebb as quickly as they have washed in, so to speak. Wiping away the tears that remind her of raindrops, she ponders over the possibility if the broken heart-shaped clocks do exist or not. Somewhere, there is a hallway full of them. Her heart, meantime, has broken beyond both recognition and repair. Now, it has caught up in its deterioration with her mind. As an honors student, there should be nothing she can't fix. This, whatever this is in her head, is something that has flown off the handle and to God knows where. With all the exploding heads and the craving to be a little kid again, she has lost more of her calm since morning.

The pieces that she cannot see are not fun-sized either. They are simply like shards of glass. Touch the edge of one, and you bleed. This is the conclusion she has reached as she grabs the rail, glances down at the lake. It's eight feet deep, from what she has heart, about as deep as the deep end of the YMCA swimming pool. Probably full of algae and carp that wanna take up everything.

Hm...Wow. She can no longer think solid, coherent thoughts any more. One foot goes up to get on the rail below the top one. to end this crazy movie/documentary with a scene like this...Hm, hmph, she usually hates endings like this.

What to do? What to do when you've heard "Where is my Mind?" all day long by the Pixies and you haven't come across a better song since? What to do when your friends are Facebook chatting with each other and other random kids? What to do when you're alone out here and got nothing left?

Time to reveal the answer for yourself. As cryptic as it is, the phrase sticks out within the confines of Olette's brilliant yet troubled head. The other foot goes up. A cool spring night breeze whistles through her hair while she stands as still as death on the rail. Spreading her arms wide, she gazes straight ahead.

Now or never. Which will it be?


A/N: A random thought before I say anything more about the story. This might sound sad, but thanks to Rock Band, I really like the Pixies' music. It's 80's stuff, but it's pretty good. I wish music didn't overall suck these days.

OK, so, I figured this would be one of those stories when you guys can feel free to end the story yourselves. Did she die or did she live? That sort of thing. Usually, I'm not a huge fan of ambiguous endings UNLESS it is in a written story. I hate it in movies, though, so I may be kind of hypocritical here. I just didn't know how to end other than sort of leave it a bit open. Hopefully, that doesn't suck too much. XD

Well, thanks for reading/reviewing, guys.