A/N:

Sorry for taking so long. I'm not doing MUCH with Shawn today but I'm being mean with what I'm doing.

Evil me.

:D

Also-If you want full depression effect, listen to The Lonely or A Thousand Years by Christina Perri while reading this. Might have to repeat it a few times too.

Disclaimer: One day Steve Franks and I will have a little…err…talk…and I will suddenly own Psych.

/

I'm not psychic.

The words hit her like a bullet in the brain. She shouldn't have blown up. But instead, she gripped her phone tightly in her hand, and threw it on the floor. She exited the Psych office, her eyes tearing up. She didn't even care to get into her car; she just sprinted all the way to her house. She unlocked the door to her house, slowly walking in. She paced around the couch, her body feeling weak and tired. Rain was falling down onto her roof, sliding down her windows. She stared out the window of her house, but turned away quickly, biting on a fingernail. She forced herself to move towards her bedroom, where she threw on a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. She pulled on slippers, and then took her hair out of its ponytail. She fell onto her bed, covering her face with the sheets, sobbing.

How could I have been so stupid?

Of course he was lying. Psychics weren't real. Why did she believe in the first place? She felt crazy. She dragged herself into the bathroom, where she stared at herself. Mascara smeared down her red face, the area around her eyes red and puffy. Her shirt was slipping off her shoulder, and her fingernails were already shortened to the nub.

What's wrong with me?

She needed to talk to somebody. Someone.

She knew exactly who.

/

As she walked through the gate of Henry Spencer's house, she thought she should turn around. What if he didn't know?

But that was ridiculous. Of course he knew. He was Shawn's father, for God's sake.

It was too late to turn back.

The door swung open, to a slightly happy looking Henry, "Hey, come on in."

"No." A voice escaped her mouth.

"Why not?" Henry looked confused.

She stood there in the rain, water dripping down her pale face, "Why would he do it?"

"Do what?" Henry's face was filled with perplexity.

"Lie."

Henry's face went pale, "What do you mean?"

"I should've known all this time. Of course psychics aren't real. What would make me think that?" She looked at him, and for a split second he thought she was crazy.

Henry couldn't even talk.

"Never mind. I figured you wouldn't care." She snapped, rushing out of the swampy yard, wondering why.

How was she going to get through without an answer?

/

Shawn still held his phone in his hand, hoping for an answer, but it was hopeless. It had nearly been two hours. No surprise she was mad. But he couldn't understand why she would hang up. For once in his life, he didn't care about himself.

And he'd never experienced that before.

It sucked.

/

She was back at the coffee shop where Shawn had "proposed" and where they met. Memories hurt being there, but for some crazy reason, she had to stay there.

"Come on, O'Hara. I don't have time for your sob story." Lassiter rolled his eyes at his partner, hoping she would just suck it up and work to find Spencer.

"Have you ever had the feeling where everything just crashes down on you? Where all the mysteries stay unsolved? Where all the secrets are revealed, and the worst of them haunt you until you die? It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember." She was staring at nothing.

"Okay, O'Hara," Lassiter moved to the seat across from her, "We're gonna catch the man…or possibly woman…who kidnapped Spencer, okay?"

She laughed cruelly, "That's the least of my worries." She grabbed her purse, and sprinted off.

/

He didn't know where he was. Tight space with a lid, could barely move, that's what he knew.

He felt around the silk inside, trying to get a feel on where he was.

Then it struck him.

He was in a coffin.

He yelled, screamed, pushing up on top of the coffin, but it wouldn't budge.

It was probably too late.

He sucked in his breath,

I'm stuck here. Not enough air. I'm buried alive, for Christ's sake. I won't get out any time soon. Probably die in here.

So he just closed his eyes.

/

Oh my God, did I kill Shawn?

Bwahaha, I'm so evil.

Anyway, I can't have you expect for this to be the last chapter. You might as well read on later to find out if I did kill Shawn.

So, this story took too long, yeah, yeah, school's sucked.

I won't be able to make a chapter for this long weekend.

Don't cry.

Blame my English teacher for making me type a 10 paged fiction story about a person who gets cyber bullied. That I haven't started. And it is due Wednesday.

So I'll try to make some more, but I can't promise anything.

GiGi.

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Hope you listened to the music.