A/N: Why hello, all my friends. How would you like a churro? Churros for everyone I dare say. Unless you be allergic, no... you can still eat it. Because it's virtual, you got to love technology. So, guys, I'm sorry, and I lied this will not be the last chapter, there will be just one more, because I think I'm leaving to many questions unanswered.

Plus. I apologize for taking so long, but it's not all my fault, my computer died, and I lost everything, you don't know how hard it was for me to recover everything. Please except my apology.

Disclaimer: Aww... weepers, that darned bunny stole my TV Show!

The Vanished

Chapter 26 One Foot in Front of the Other

The sun beat down on my head unforgivably. How could I come so close and let her stop me now?

That was it! I hadn't let her stop me, I couldn't let her stop me. I pulled myself up from the grassy ground. My whole body throbbed, and my head spun, an everlasting spasm of pain pulsed through me, and it took all I had just to stay standing.

I chewed on my bottom lip, before grabbing my backpack and setting off at a sluggish pace in the direction of the town. The bag almost too cumbersome to bear.

It seemed like ages until I made it down to the turn in the road. And there were only four things crossing my mind. 'Miley, Jake, Sarah, Oliver...'

I furrowed my brow, before adding two more names to the list, 'Amber, Ashely' I tried to stay focused but my mind kept slipping, again and again.

How much longer would I stay with my Dad? When I had found out that my mom had cancer, that was the first question in my mind. Would I have to go live with my Dad now? Or would they cure her somehow?

It was harder now, and I knew that after she died we would all have to go back to court again.

As happy as I had been when my parents decided to get divorced, to put a stop to their endless fighting, was a unhappy as I was now. Which is saying a lot. I hated court, I didn't want to have to tell them over and over again that my dad was responsible.

But I still had to get home, and that meant putting one foot in front of the other. And that meant listening to my heart... again. I'm not used to this, I'm not used to these never-ending mind rants, and these thoughts about my future and where I was going from here. I am especially not used to the fact I've wanted to curl up in a ball crying, even though I knew it wouldn't help anything.

And that was the reason why I didn't "listen to my heart" because my heart is weak, and I don't want to be.

I don't want to be worried about Wilma, Amber and Ashley. I don't want to be fretting about Sarah. I want to forget about Miley there catering to Jake in his time of need. And I don't even want to think about Oliver. And I can't even stand to think about Candace, without screaming out in rage.

Look what's she's done. This is all her fault. I'm stranded and sick and beaten and bruised, how could someone stand there and look down upon me, how could she leave me, and Amber and Ashley and Miley and Jake and Sarah... and Oliver.

Was she born heartless?

Or did she have heartlessness thrust upon her.

And that was another reason why I didn't want to trust my heart. Because my heart wanted to know what had happened to her, what had happened that could have made someone so cruel.

But my mind was telling me no, telling me to move on, constantly reminding me to forget about it.

But that's the thing... when you're remembering to forget something, you're not forgetting. The thought, the fact, the image is still there, and just as hard to get rid of.

So one foot in front of the other, until I get down that road until I get to the end. Until one foot in front of the other turned into hand, hand, knee, knee. Until that evolved into a slither, that barely brought me two feet in one minute. Until I knew I had come to my end. And I collapsed, lifeless on the cold, hard ground.

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"Papa... Papa! Look here, look at this!"I opened my eyes to the harsh sun. Only to find a little boy of maybe six, hovering above me, screaming at an old wrinkled man.

"Papa, come look at this girl, she's a dead, Papa."

The man dropped his shovel, and I let a quiet moan escape from my lips.

"I'll be damned." He shook his head back and forth and soon he was looking down at me too. "Charlie, this is one of the Lost Kids, the one of the Set. You know, you saw 'em pictures."

"Papa, look she's moving," Charlie exclaimed, jumping back from me like I was some rabid animal.

"Girl, girl, can you hear me?"

I nodded my head. "Girl, we'll get ya some help. Don't you worry. Charlie you run back to the house, get your Mama to call the medicals."

"Yessir," He ran off after taking one last glance at me.

"My name is Georgie Wells, we'll help you little girl, don't you worry."

"Lilly," I mumbled.

"Well don't you even think, little Lilly."

"My friends, their still in the woods..." My voice trembled. Before it could hit me, I was safe. I was going to be okay. I was... I was going to survive.

"Well get y'er friends, Miss Lilly. Don't you worry."

And as I looked up at Georgie's face, I wanted to cry. For he was the most beautiful sight you would ever see. He was a true god-sent angel. And I did cry, I let those goddamn tears run down my face.

"Thank you."

Love,

Sara

"Sparkles!"

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