Wth: Sorry about that. I'd been told earlier in this story that the b was to be lower case, so believe me, it wasn't out of laziness. Thanks, though, for letting me know this.

A/N Once again this story will be ending soon. Only a few more chapters.

Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Please keep them coming!

I think after all my thoughts running in and out of my mind I was kind of done thinking things over.

None of this was fair, not at all. I didn't deserve half the shit that life decided to throw my way.

I was tired of it.

I slowly stood, the pain in my newly bruised ribs increasing. My body was shaking and I was crying. I was a complete mess and my mind was scrambled. I don't think I realized anything.

I was completely out of it and I had no way back in.

I looked around even though my head was already spinning. The ache in my head was insane and I just wanted to deck some one.

What right did Jack have? What right did anyone have? To treat me that way? To talk to me that way? To judge me that way.

They didn't. No one gave them permission. It was my life. Why should their opinions have mattered? I wasn't quite sure, but for some reason they did. They shouldn't have, though, because I didn't deserve that.

Why couldn't this have happened to anyone else? To someone other than me?

I looked up as Jack's truck revved and swerved out of the driveway. He was going fast, really fast.

Everything was so fast, so fast that you could never fix the problem at hand. You could never slow down and explain. Everything had to go at extreme speeds where you couldn't stop the wrong person to help them understand.

Thinking back, you always wish you would've tried to slow things down. It's hard to understand that you just couldn't.

It was so gloomy outside. Funny how the weather can seem to correspond with your emotions. Personally, I hated that effect.

I looked back down, realizing my hands were shaking and I didn't know what I was thinking anymore. I had an idea of what I was doing when my legs started moving on their own. I had to limp from the earlier blow to my knee.

The air in the room felt strange. It was like that feeling I got that night when Jack raped me. I had that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't mind it as much this time, though. I let it go and kept walking ahead, feeling along the banister as I reached the steps.

So this is what giving up felt like. It wasn't a great feeling, but it wasn't as bad as what I normally felt.

Each step hit my body a little harder with emptiness. I wasn't sure if I liked it, but I guess feeling nothing for once was kind of nice. I felt numb.

Step one. That thought in the back of my head, the one where I knew I wasn't and pretty and no one liked me. It was gone, whisked away with the numbness. I didn't know or care about what I looked like.

It was over, what was the difference?

Step two. My mother being a drunk was no longer bothering me. I felt the pain from the fact wash away. It was the feeling you get when it's so cold outside that you can't even feel movement.

I didn't care. I was done. I was finished with everything.

Step three. Jack beating me was disappearing with the rest of the things I no longer cared about. The thought almost made my heart pump of my chest, but I calmed down as I let it go.

It was over and I was tired. I was dizzy and disoriented.

Step four. My dad passing was running circles around me, but I pushed it away.

I couldn't have these thoughts on my mind. I was tired of them. I wanted them to disappear into oblivion. So that's where I sent them.

Step five. Two-Bit yelling at me over things he didn't even know was flushed away. I sent it along with the rest of my tortures. I was hiding it away, making sure it wouldn't be able to come out.

This was over. I was making sure.

Step six. Lying about my life for money was thrown farther away then most of my problems. I sent it spiraling. It should've never been there in the first place and I accepted that it was my fault. All of that was my fault and I needed it gone.

Step seven. Jack raping me made my blood turn cold, but I shoved it far away. It couldn't bother me. It just couldn't.

With each of the rest of the steps I felt the emptiness inside me increase. I started to almost get an idea of what I was doing. I knew I couldn't have these as my last thoughts. That was one thing I didn't want.

The following steps gave me the coldest, but most unfeeling ache inside me. I didn't mind it at all, though. It was never ending, bottomless. There was nothing there and, for the moment, I found that okay.

I reached the top of the steps and wanted to let my knees give out then and there, but instead my legs had developed a mind of their own.

They led me slowly down the hallway,

I ignored a tiny voice in my head, actually, it was the only voice left in my head. It was the only thing I hadn't discarded of when walking up the steps.

"Shut up," I muttered to the voice as I held myself close.

The tears rolling down my face were barely noticed as my legs led me to the destination my mind wanted to take me.

"It's over," I mumbled quietly, as I started shaking, "It's all done."

I sucked in a deep breath of air and moved my hair out from in front of my face.

"You don't have to go through it anymore," I whispered quietly, "Never again."

I scratched my arm uncomfortably and muttered a curse as I stubbed my toe on a floor board that wasn't nailed down correctly.

I didn't stop, though. I felt like a vegetable, muttering incoherent things to myself. I was staring straight ahead and moving like a snail, but eventually I knew I'd get to my destination. Everyone always does.

"I hate him," I wasn't sure who I was talking about. My dad for dying? My brother for yelling? My step dad for hurting me? I didn't have one clue.

"This will all be over soon," I growled angrily, feeling a slight bit of rage appear in the emptiness.

I shuffled along, my left hand sliding softly across the wall.

"No more pain," I mumbled, looking down, "Or hurt."

I finally started feeling the tears and my cheeks felt drenched and my eyes ached. I knew they were probably a stubborn red. I couldn't stand when your eyes turned red while crying. I wasn't sure why, I just hated it.

"They can't touch you anymore Liz," I promised myself, "They never will again."

My cheek started to burn as I thought of the slap from Two-Bit. I hadn't even seen the bruise, but thinking about it made me want to throw up.

The ugly thoughts were starting to come back so I pushed them harder this time. I didn't need to be thinking about that in the end.

I didn't want to and I wasn't going to.

Emptiness was a dark and deceiving feeling, though. It made you think you weren't always there, but you knew you were.

This was probably how crazy people felt. They knew they were there in the flesh, but their mind made them think they were somewhere else.

I was nowhere. It was peaceful.

Still, deceiving all the same.

I yearned for something greater, though. Even though the nothingness was settled inside me, there was something more I wanted. Yet, I wasn't sure what.

I reached a door. As I reached the door, though, my mind was drawn a blank. I couldn't remember who the door belonged to, or where it led. I could tell that my body wanted it's presence inside that room, though. It didn't only want to be there, but it also wanted something in the room.

I needed that something.

My good hand was numb, but I carefully wrapped it around the door knob. The coolness surfaced my skin and vanished just as fast as the numbness settled back in. I twisted the knob slowly, my breath being held in my throat.

"You're going to do this," it was like giving myself a pep talk, "You will."

I gave the door a small push and it loudly creaked open.

All I did for a moment was stand there, looking inside the room.

It must've been a storage room or something. My mind still wasn't comprehending, but it did know where the object it wanted was.

My eyes scanned the area, looking for a certain box.

The space was tight and small, but it held enough items to take care of an army.

Small boxes of jewelry were stacked neatly upon one another. I was pretty sure they were real and wondered why we hadn't sold them.

Then, I saw the cobwebs scattered about and realized that no one looked in the closet enough to realize they were in there.

Old clothes were thrown around in random boxes and on the floor. I saw my old princess costume from when I was five and my dad had taken me trick or treating. It was the first year Two-Bit and his friends were allowed to go by themselves. That was the same year I'd gotten my obsession with princesses.

My mind cheered me on as I pushed away my horrible thoughts and brought my gleeful memories to fill in the emptiness.

The numbness throughout my body covered over the good thoughts, trying to keep them there for later.

I still wasn't myself. I was sure it didn't matter how many wonderful memories I had at the time. I still wanted it all to be over.

If I didn't end it I'd have to come back. Come back to Jack beating me, Two-Bit hating me, and having to deal with the loss of my closest family member.

I'd have to come back to no more money, to the ongoing pain inside me.

I'd have to come back to everything always turning out wrong and never working out the way I planned.

And I wasn't about to come back to that.

As the hot tears rushed down my face and the sweat on my forehead decided to increase I looked onto the right shelf in the tiny room.

There sat the box that would help me, everything would be fixed with the object inside. I could barely remember how I knew it was there.

The memory hit me like a freight train.

XXX

I was walking around the house.

Things had been different lately. Dad had lost his job and Two-bit had been caught lifting something from a store recently.

Apparently Mom had been staying at another guys house for a few nights and that made Dad mad. He seemed really upset lately. When I'd asked him what was wrong he said nothing and promised me everything was fine.

He lied.

Then his brother died.

I'd always liked Uncle Cecil. He was real nice and brought us gifts anytime he visited.

Him and dad had been real close, more close then most brothers end up being. They were more like best friends.

I remembered waking up late one night, seeing my dad in his room. His eyes were bloodshot and I saw a beer next to his bed.

I remember thinking about how things were changing. Dad and Mom weren't happy around each other, Two-Bit was getting into trouble and there I was having to watch all of it.

There was one night in particular around that time that I remembered the most.

Mom and Dad had been having a bigger fight then normal and I was in my room, holding onto an old stuffed bear.

I wasn't quite sure where Two-bit was, I just hoped he was okay.

Tears hadn't come to my eyes until I heard crashing downstairs. There was a lot of it and it was loud. I felt the rims of my eyes burn as I cried for all of it to stop.

There was cursing and screaming. I felt as though there was an all out war going on in the lower level of my house.

Every now and then something glass would shatter and I'd let out a louder cry. I knew I wouldn't be heard, though, because sadly they didn't listen when they fought.

It took a long time, but everything suddenly got quiet. I heard someone stomp up the stairs and I quickly and carefully hopped off my bed. I cracked my door open a little as I saw my dad open a door in the hall.

He pulled a box out of it and I opened my door some more, stepping out. When I saw his face he looked tired and devastated. He looked a lot older than his true age and I saw the red rims of his eyes.

"Daddy," my small voice choked a little, "A-are you ok?"

He nodded.

"Yes baby, Daddy's fine," he walked over to me and squeezed me tightly. I wondered why he was giving me a hug, but I accepted it gratefully.

"I love you sweetheart," he told me gently, pulling away. I looked up to him and nodded my head, a little confused.

"I love you too Daddy."

I watched as he walked down the hall and into a different room. I stayed where I was. I wasn't sure why, but a bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

A few minutes later it seemed like everything had gone silent. It was an eerie silence, but something sure as hell ended it.

The loudest bang I'd ever heard rang from down the hall. I gasped and ran as fast as I could. I opened the door to the room my dad went in.

I couldn't breathe when I saw him.

There on the floor was my dad, a hole through his head and a gun on in his side. The opened box where it must've been kept was sitting on a table.

"Daddy!" I cried, running for him, but I already knew it was too late.

XXX

Now I held the same box that held the gun that had killed my father. Why we'd even kept it I'd never know. The only thing I did know, though, was obvious in my mind.

My father had taken his own life.

I was about to end mine the same way.

Thanks for reading. Reviews will be gratefully appreciated. I might be able to post the next chapter this week, but if I don't just know it's because I'll be on Vaycayy in Pennsylvania for the weekend