A/N: I've got such A GOOD IDEA for the end of this story! Which is unfortunately next chapter… But I've got many, many, MANY more ideas up my sleeves!

I wiped away my tears and walked back to my mother, whom did not look happy. "Spare me the argument," I began. "I don't feel like talking," I said. My mother sighed, relieving herself with the fact we wouldn't be fighting.

I never felt more alone in my entire life and it sucked. My mother looked at me, but she didn't speak. After a protracted pause, my mother finally spoke, "Let's go home…"

I flopped down onto my bed, once home, and didn't feel the need to fix my shirt that had flown up slightly high, or fix my shoes that were hanging off my feet. I didn't feel like moving ever again. I felt like someone had aimed a bullet at my heart and failed to miss.

Alone. It hurt so much… So much worse than my split lip or now throbbing wrist. I had taken a hard fall, forget the blow, right on my wrist I'd fallen. That fall probably fractured it but at this point, I could care less…

This is what rejection felt like? Well… I was taking it pretty damn hard. I turned to face the wall, amazed that I'd even given the effort to move my limbs. I curled into the tiniest ball I could put myself in and cried myself to sleep.

I'd woken up too early, probably because when I fell asleep, it was 12 in the afternoon. It had to be 10 at night, the house was dark and quiet. My mother's light snoring was the only sign that told me that, physically, I wasn't alone. I got out of my bed and stumbled through the hallway, silently cursing at every toe-stub. I sat at the counter, head in hands, sobbing. I needed a father now more than ever… My stomach grumbled loudly and I forgot I hadn't eaten a crumb all day! My stomach was in so much pain from the lack of food… But I didn't want to eat… Somehow, I thought, revenge. What's the point of being happy and healthy… if no one even noticed your hurt? Sitting… I thought—

BAM!

It hit me!

Abbey Dawson wasn't a quitter—or weak! I wasn't going down without a fight! No freaking way!

I tiptoed through the house, careful not to trip on anything. I grabbed my sketchpad and wrote my mother a quick, messy note.

Mom,

Went out for a bit… You know where I'll be! Think back to this morning!

-Abbey

I hopped out my window. It wasn't a far fall considering I lived on the first floor of the apartment. Another man lived above us… Who? I forget. He always snuck me chocolate when he came to visit mom. The man was the only reason Mom and I lived here. He gave her a job at his small coffee shop. I loved going there when I felt really upset—and oh my gosh I was babbling!

I ran to Dad's house and I was actually glad I got an A in track—and that he didn't live too far away!

When I got there, I saw he had some lights on. Perfect! No escaping me now! I knocked on the door, hoping he'd open up! "Dad! I know you're there," I said.

He did.

"Dad?" I asked. He looked a mess. A sober mess… But a mess! "Dad, can I come in?" I asked. He opened the door further, but he didn't verbally grant me access. I took a step forward, afraid to impose. "Abbey, I don't bite," he said, forcing humor. I walked inside.

"Did something happen?" he asked. "No—not between Mom and I anyway," I snapped. He cringed at my bite, but I continued, "Why d—why'd you say it'd be best if Mom had no idea you were alive? For fourteen years I was living with the impression that you died before I was born! What provoked you to think I could continue life without you? What made you think I could possible forget I'd ever met you?" I snapped.

He looked in my eyes. His sad, blues eyes wore down my angered ones. "I'm sorry, Abbey… I was just afraid I'd lost you forever… I was afraid you'd hate me for not answering the door right away—that when I opened the door you'd died," he said. "I told you plain and simply that I forgave you! I still do! It wasn't your fault!" I yelled. "You didn't mean to not answer the door right away! You didn't mean to hurt me!" I sobbed. "You—you did mean it right?" I asked feeling stupidly unsure now.

"I didn't! Of course not, Abbey!" my father assured me. I sighed with relief. "So… How do we tell mom and when?" I asked. My father chuckled and it brought a smile to my face. My smile felt so foreign. "You really need a good shower," I laughed at him. "You should get on home," he said.

"Can I stay tonight?" I asked. "What about your mother?" he asked. "What about her? I told her I'd be out—well I wrote it but still," I said. Well… I also told her where I'd be… I added mentally. He took off his shirt and tossed it on the chair he'd drew me in the other night. "I hope you feel better about all this now," I said to him nonchalantly. "A bit," he said, getting ready to leave the room.

"Oh! You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch," he said. "No, no! I'm not a guest, I'm your daughter! I'll take the couch," I said before he could argue. He raised his arms in surrender and began to leave the room when the room filled with a frantic knock.

Oh crap! I thought.

A/N: So? Haha! How'd you like it? Anyway, I AM posting the last chapter tonight! I'm sad it has to come to an end… But I have many more stories to update! And thanks for the reviews! I know I don't often say that, I SHOULD, but I don't! Now I feel like a horrible person! Anyway, before Lauren lectures me about why I shouldn't hate myself, I'll get over it! :D So again, check back tonight because the last chapter WILL BE UP!