I'm sure you all know that I don't own HSM, and if not go look at the A/N's on the other chapters.

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Author: Panthres

Title: Lost& Found

Chapter Title: Interlude pt.4- Of Croissants and Characteristics

This chapter is four of five interludes in the story. TROYPAY LOVERS DON'T WORRY, I think you'll like this chapter.

Tell me what you think!!!! Also I get like six reviews when I have over two-thousand readers. WTF? Please review, because right now I'm tempted to write a cliffhanger and leave you there for like a month. -looks around seriously- I don't like authors who do this, but I'm as eager to post this as you are to read it, so please please please review! -pouts- Please...?

TO MY READERS, JUST SO YOU KNOW THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE HSM, AND IT IS THE MIDDLE OF NOVEMBER RIGHT NOW. GABBY MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT BE IN THIS STORY, I HAVEN'T DECIDED IF I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT ALL THE DRAMA SHE WOULD BRING. SO sorry, but I thought you should know.

-Panthres-

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Blinking tiredly, I sat on the ledge of my window, peering out at the grayish morning sky. It seemed darker than usual, and what the weather out come would be today looked unclear to even the newscasters as the weatherman blared on about how much of a percentage today's rain was supposed to be.

"I believe there is a fifty-fifty chance of rain showers today…" I rolled my eyes though, even I had to admit he looked sure of himself to people who had never learned to mask their anxiousness from the world.

I let my eyes drift away from the television set and back out into the murky sky, wondering why the weather and my future seemed to relate.

Everything just seemed so…unclear. Like my life was unpredictable to the point that I just had to sit back and see where it took me, because trying to guess just seemed pointless.

My breath on the glass caused it to fog slightly, and I watched in silent awe as dew drops slid leisurely down the window pane. They didn't move too fast, nor did some move too slow. There were ones that just stopped and didn't move at all, as though they gave up trying. I could see the ones that merged with others making them move faster, or slow them down.

For some reason they seemed to represent the lives of people. How they could speed ahead in life, without any thoughts, and end up crashing and burning when they got somewhere. There were the ones that moved so slowly, so cautiously that they never got anywhere in life because they were too afraid to take a chance. Then the ones that merged with others, and were forced to either speed up or slow down.

It was strange how these tiny droplets of water could represent the tracks of human life so readily, and so perfectly. Like they were there to show us how much damage we could do to ourselves and to others if we made a decision.

My eyes trailed after one droplet that raced towards the bottom, and I wondered which droplet was my life. I was startled out of my observation by a soft knock on my door.

"Come in." I said quietly, while lifting the remote to turn off the television. It shut off with a click and the image of the weatherman disappeared, dissolving into a black screen.

My physician entered the room with a smile. "Good morning, Sharpay. How are you today?" he asked.

I nodded at him. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Steven. I'm feeling okay, I guess."

He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and placed the ear buds in his ears. "Would you mind rolling over and lifting the back of your shirt for me?" I did as asked and shivered slightly at the cold metal touching my skin.

I heard him scribble something on his clipboard, before the cool object was removed and he said, "I've gotten it, you can turn back over now."

Mr. Steven studied the oxygen level thing behind me, and hummed in approval. "100. That's wonderful." He sat on the edge of my bed and looked at me seriously. "We got the latest results of your blood test back, and you're negative for any abnormalities there. Our observations show that your body systems are working in perfect condition, we just have no idea why you died, or at least how you came back from the dead with less problems you went in with. Because from your file you had an irregular heartbeat, but now it's gone." he said, confusion evident.

I shrugged at him. "Well, I heard that this is your second to last session with your psychologist. She won't give any reports until she's done all of her interviews, so I'll be awaiting those results."

I frowned at him, feeling a bit concerned. "Why, not? Is there something wrong with my head?" I asked knowing the answer was really yes. After all who talked to a photo-plasmic version of themselves?

The physician chuckled heartily. "We don't know, that's just how Anna works. She refuses to assess her clients until she's got enough facts to go on."

"Why, though?" I prodded for information.

"I don't know Sharpay, but she has yet to be wrong about a diagnosis." He said reassuringly, before patting me on the foot softly and leaving the room.

I sighed. "Doctors can be so annoying, sometimes."

I heard a soft giggle from the doorway. "I hope I'm not included in that category."

I watched as Anna made her way into the room, a smile on her face. She wore a soft gray cashmere sweater over a white tank with black dress slacks. On her feet were a pair of red peep toe heels and she had on a matching set of beads and earrings. Her hair was pulled back by a clip, and the auburn curls tumbled beautifully down her shoulders.

I smiled at her. "Of course not, Anna. That would be insulting to your ego." I said sarcastically, and she snorted, before handing me a steaming coffee-latte. I smiled brightly, removing the cup from her hands as she dropped her bag to the floor, sipping her own.

"Thanks." I told her honestly as I sipped at the warm substance. Once again she reached into her bag, and handed me a brown paper bag full of warm cream-cheese croissants and blueberry scones.

"Oh my god, I think I love you." I told her with a dreamy look on my face as I bit into the heavenly cheesy product. She laughed at the look on my face as I chewed. "Just don't tell Steven. I can't stand hospital food, and I knew it would have to be absolute torture for a teenager to endure it."

I nodded empathetically, my cheeks stuffed with croissant. She laughed again as she one-handedly pulled out her notebook, pen, and tape recorder, while sipping her coffee-latte.

She pressed record, and set her drink to the side for the moment, as she uncapped her pen and turned to the next free page. I watched in shock as she flipped to almost the fourth division in the five subject notebook.

"Where'd all that come from?" I asked, shocked. Anna glanced up at me. "I usually fill a whole section with each interview. Yours is no different." She smiled, before a surprised expression crossed her face. "Oh! I knew I forgot something."

She leaned over and dug through the contents of her bag for a minute, before she removed a square journal that looked quite thick, and handed it to me.

The cover had my name in beautifully drawn letters, and around it were landscapes drawn solely in shades of green, gray, and black. It was gorgeous.

I glanced over at her, my eyes questioning and she smiled softly. "I had my son design the cover for you. He's brilliant at drawing, though he refuses to admit it to anyone. If only the world knew half the things he could do, they would be amazed, I'm sure."

I watched as her eyes glittered with pride for her son, and my lips quirked. Anna really did love her children.

"What all does he do?" I asked her, feeling curious.

She glanced at me askance. "Well he plays a multitude of various sports, volunteers at a lot of the Alberquerque orphanages, and works at my daycare center. He can sing, and play the violin, guitar, and is an angel on the piano. I love hearing him sing and play at the same time. He can cook…somewhat. His specialty is microwaved pizza." She said laughing.

I snorted at that. "But he tries, at least. When I'm not home he makes dinner for his little sisters."

"What is it, exactly?" I asked, while studying the crisp pages inside. "It's a dream journal. I want you to write every dream you have in it, in a poetic form. Try to interpret what you saw and felt during the dream and write it on the back of the page. I'll look them over later on, okay?"

I nodded as I sat the journal to the side.

"Anyways, when was your first kiss?" she asked suddenly serious. I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn't really remember. My brow furrowed slightly. "I don't remember." I replied and she looked a bit downcast by that.

"Have you ever been sexually intimate with anyone, including vegetables?" she asked, taking a dig at me, and I snorted around my bite of croissant. "Nope, still a virgin."

"What features attract you the most?" she asked, still scribbling. "Psychologically, or physically?" I inquiried.

"Both."

"I would have to say their personality, and the type of vibes they give off, also I'd rather them not have uncontrollable urges to hack me into pieces for psychological." I said, causing Anna to smile in amusement.

"As far as physical, I love an athletic tone, and their eyes, and probably their lips and ears." I told her, flushing slightly.

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Ears?" she asked, her voice laced with laughter. I blushed.

"I like to nibble on a guy's ear. It can be such a turn on, especially the sounds they make." I replied defensively, and Anna snorted softly.

"What color eyes?" she asked me.

"I like green eyes, and brown ones, but I'd have to say I love blue eyes the most."

"Hair color?" she questioned, a strange gleam in her eyes, that made me fundamentally suspicious.

"I like black hair, but I also like a dark brown, chesnut, and blondish combination the most, especially with blue eyes." Anna's eyes were practically sparkling, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Hair length?" she asked me, her eyes still shimmering. "To the tops of their ears. I love the longish look, but not too long like just above or behind their ears."

Anna snorted, before covering her mouth, and looking down at her notebook. I eyed her suspiciously, because for the rest of the time, she didn't look away from the paper, but I could see the wide smile that was on her face.

About an hour later, Anna closed her notebook with a contented sigh and placed all her things in her bag.

"I think that should be enough for today, Sharpay. I'll see you on Thursday, my dear." she said as she fastened the bag across her shoulder, and tossed her empty bag into the can.

I felt something familiar about that once again, but I couldn't figure it out. Shaking it off, I waved goodbye to Anna.

Sighing, I picked up the journal and opened it to the first page. Uncapping the pen that had rested inside, I began writing.

My world is cyclone of colors

Until I am lost in an unfamiliar abyss of pure darkness

It isn't the blackness of this dream that is so unnerving

But more of the blankness

The emptiness I can literally feel in my bones as I sink away from the bright colors, and flashing light above me

I fall away from the warmth of the reds, and oranges

And into the coldness and frosty atmosphere of pure depth and shades of black

My head pounds as I let myself float into my own icy prison

And I can feel something locked away

Asking repeatedly of me to let it go, but a sharp pain in my chest makes my hand stop inches from the cage it's held within

It is telling me that I shouldn't do it

Because it would only cause me harm

It would make me hurt

Light flares through the darkness,

And my eyes shift towards the glittering brightness

But it dulls slightly

As though it was being sucked back into its' confines

I feel an urgent need to go toward it,

And on instinct I move

Fighting desperately against imaginary ropes that hold me back

I flail my arms and kick my legs toward it

And I come so close...

My fingers brush against the light

And my whole world pulses

I think I hear an imaginary voice cheering at its' slight victory

But then pain laces through my very body,

And lights my nerves on fire

I open my mouth in a silent scream,

Before I am sucked back from my dream world, and

Into the hazy vision of reality

I think this dream is describing myself holding back parts of me, but somewhere inside I'm fighting back, and ready to free myself from the spiritual confines that cage the real 'me' somewhere. It's like a part of myself is telling me to let go, but the other side is holding on tenaciously, and I'm battling myself. I've locked who I am inside myself, and now that I've found it… this feigned part of me is trying to keep me away from it.

Away from discovering who I really am…

I closed the journal, suddenly feeling tired, so I placed it under my pillow, and let myself drift off into an uneasy sleep.

I could feel it in my bones as I tossed and turned.

Something was going to happen, and I knew that whatever it was…wasn't going to be anything good.

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