Kat stood numbly, in the centre of her once humble little dorm room. The bunk and desk now completely cleared. There were no pictures to be seen, no personal touches left. After today it would go back to just being room 207. She frowned slightly. How could it all be over? She had been there for over three years, but she couln't help feeling like everything was only just beginning. Her life, her old life, had to come to an end. She was headed off into the world. A world of love and hate. Trust and betrayal. Somehow, it all seemed so familiar.

Kat picked her blue duffle bag up off the floor, and swung it over her right shoulder. She was gonna miss this place. It was home to her now. She didn't even want to think about what it would be like back at her fathers. His constant nagging, Bianca Bianca Bianca, and worst of all Patrick. She didn't know what to feel anymore. She knew it was wrong to still love him. After all he probably didn't love her either. She thought of what he might be doing. It brought tears to her eyes. It wasn't supposed to end that way. Not for them, not for anyone.

She fought back her tears, and walked slowly towards the door, dragging her feet as she went. The duffle bag was as big as her. She turned and took one last look at her now bare room. That was it. For her, everything was about to change. No more alone time, no more wallowing. She had had plenty of time for that before. Now she had to go back home and face her fears. The fear of rejection, the fear of having been cast aside. What was she thinking? She didn't want him anymore. Look at what he had done to her. He had torn her apart, ripped her heart into shreads. Who was to say he wouldn't do it again? She hated herself lately. Why wasn't she good enough?

Kat walked through the hall, her head down the entire time. She couldn't let anyone see her tears. She never cried. At least thats what everyone thought. Like always, she had led everyone to believe that she was tough. The tough girl who never shed a tear. On the outside for sure she seemed that way, but deep down she was a wreck. She felt hopeless. It was wrong for her to still think of Patrick, she knew it was, but something told her to hold out for him. He would come around eventually. He had to.

She couldn't help but wonder if he knew she was coming home. If he would be there when she got off the plane. If he would be there when she needed him most. She thought about calling, but that would make her seem too anxious. She wanted him to think she didn't care. She wanted him to think she hated him, that she had never and would never forgive him. Most of all she just wanted him. The old Patrick. The Patrick who fell in love with her, and stayed in love with her. It was wishful thinking. She knew nothing like that could ever happen. Not to her. That's what happened in fairy tales.