Hello! Yes...I am back to working on this story.

MissLKid: I can't thank you enough for continually reading and reviewing my story! I'll be able to rp with you sometime this week. TTYL :)

VSSG: Thanks SO much for that elaborate review, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Morbid, dark, and angsty, huh? That's such a cool description of my story...and it's funny it ended up that way because I never intended to make it like that...haha.

Legofodopip: I'm glad you continued reviewing! I really hope you like this chapter also...

wis8r: Wow! The whole thing in one night? Thanks so much for paying attention to my story and reviewing. Oh! and about the chapter lengths...thanks for informing me about that, I was wondering if they were a good length or not.

Enjoy the chapter...and Johnny shows up eventually...




She touched the smudged lipstick trailing off her lips. No words came out of her for a long while. Finally she decided.

"I wanna go home." She said it slowly, her words unusually quiet and flat. Her eyes examined the pink, wax-like substance that covered her fingertips. All Summer knew was that she wanted to go home, her desired goal blocking out the fact that her hand was getting blurry.

Summer rose from the sitting position and found her way out of the building. Funny how he wasn't there anymore. It was still dark.

Where am I headed?

I don't know. Did you ever really know where you were headed?

"That's it," Summer mumbled to herself, "I'm going...home. I figured that one out." Her ears started to ring as she tried to cope with what had happened. She'd never be able to go back to where she had come from. She'd never be the same again.

Her buckled shoes clattered on the pavement as she tried to make her way back to the other side of town.

There's a slight problem. A small one, but still...yeah. The street. It's kind of tilting.

Summer stumbled, trying to reach the side of the building before she fell. She leaned against the brick wall, her head throbbing.

"Phone...good idea." She stuck her hand in the front pocket of her shirt, fishing out the extra quarter her mother had given her...for emergencies. Summer had never grasped that concept until now. But what was happening now was not an emergency, right? Everything was just fine.

The pay phone was a few feet away, and Summer waited a few seconds until her vision became somewhat manageable. She stepped up to the phone, and shakily dialed the number to her house.

Oh momma that's where the fun is
But momma that's where the fun is

She hung up the phone and slid down the side of the telephone booth.

Just a few more minutes, just a few more minutes....

She was losing her mind. It was terrifying to have no control.

She got down but she never got tired
She's gonna make it to the night
She's gonna make it through the night



"Concussion: that's what it is. Keep her in bed for a couple of days and she'll be fine. We also sewed up the small cut on her forehead, and wrapped a bandage around her head."

"Oh, thank god!" The tears started again; this time out of happiness instead of frightening uncertainty. "I just can't believe what happened, it's- it's crazy. I never would have thought that Summer, out of all these wild youngsters..."

"Well, uh, honey..." her husband interrupted, "I think it's time we get going. Summer must be exhausted." The doctor tapped the piece of paper Summer's father was holding with his pen.

"That's the number to call if you need anything. And we've got the appointment for next week scheduled, so see you then!"

"Yes," the woman wiped the snot dripping from her nostril with a kleenex, "yes, you're right! We should get home. I can't thank you enough, doctor. My baby's okay!"

"Yes, thank the lord she's okay," the father commented as he made his way through the hospital hall into her room.



Summer opened her eyes, and ran her fingers along the knitted designs of the comforter. Gosh, her head hurt.

She frowned. Summer wasn't happy, and while she had felt unhappy numerous times before, this time it was different. It was like she was hollow inside. Voices rose up the stairs from the living room.

"What do you mean, Harold? Of course Sunny wouldn't do something like...like...."

"The young Johnson girl saw her go off with what seemed to be some hoodlum, from what she described. A hoodlum for chrissakes! They were way on the other side of town, the bad side. And this was no kid!"

"Stop it! Just stop it! She would never do a thing like that, she's a thirteen year old..."

"That's right! She's thirteen! And this guy was who knows how old! She's just a child, she could be easily forced...."

"NO!" the mother's voice pierced through the household. "NEVER! That did not happen, not to my little baby! It didn't, okay? They were just driving across town and... just got in a wreck and, and...he took off. Then she- she called us right away. That's IT!" The woman's entire body shook as sobs escaped her.

Summer was burning up underneath all the blankets that had been thrown on top of her. Her fingers clenched the comforter, and she pushed it off of her onto the floor.

No, no, no, nothing happened. Mom's right. Nothing happened.

Don't deny it; it's now a part of who you are.

But who am I?

Summer had never questioned anything before in her life.



"So, how do you like it, sweetie?" Her smile was huge and hopeful. Summer sipped a bit of the orange juice.

"I don't know. It's okay. I'm just not that hungry." Her mother started rubbing her thumbs on her apron. It was a habit she always did when she was nervous.

"Oh but after all you've been through the past three days. You should have some breakfast. Ever since before....the accident...you haven't eaten anything."

"I know, but I'm just-"

"Summer, please eat your food. I'm ordering you to. You need the energy."

"Mom?"

"Yes Summer?"

"Get the fuck out of my room."



He was home from work, and his wife told him of how their child had been acting.

"I just don't understand," she commented, wiping a tear that was bubbling up from her eyelid. "I try to help her and...and I don't even understand why she's acting like someone died or something! Yes, I know something like a car wreck can be scary, but she's becoming someone else."

"I know she's still recovering," he replied, "but that's just not acceptable. What is happening to our daughter?" Summer didn't really understand what was happening to her either, but what she did know is that she was tired of it all. Her father started coming up the stairs, and finally the door knob to her room turned.

"Summer," he stated, closing the door behind him. She brought the covers up around her neck, and closed her eyes. The weight of the bed shifted as he sat down on it. "I know you're awake. Open your eyes." Summer refused. "Okay then, I'm still going to talk to you, because I know for a fact you're not asleep." He paused, waiting for some kind of response. He didn't get one. "I know you've been through a lot these past days- the car accident, and your concussion. But I need you to speak up now." He paused for a long time, gathering his thoughts together as to how he was going to ask this. "Did...Is there anything I need to know about? Anything else that happened that night?" Summer grasped the sheets just slightly tighter bringing them up to cover her face. Anger suddenly ran throughout her body... for her parents. For him. She still refused to speak up. "That hood- um, man, that you went in the car with. Did you do anything that you might not want to talk about?"

"No-," the word stopped short in Summer's throat. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I need you to tell me the truth. Because if that is what happened, we need to get you checked out, make sure that..."

"That I'm not pregnant. Right." Her hands started shaking.

"No! I didn't mean it that way.."

"But you did." She could hear the shakiness of her voice, she could feel the dampness on her face. "And what if I were pregnant? Huh? What would you do then? Tell me to get an abor-" she couldn't finish her sentence.

"Honey," he replied, trying to gently pull the covers away from her face. "I know you. I know you're not telling me the truth."

"But do you?" she said, her voice rising. "Do you really know who I am? No you don't, cause you're always occupied, you're always doing things for yourself. You never stopped once and...took the time to get to know me! So why should I tell you now, all of a sudden after these thirteen years?"

"It's not like that, Summer..."

"I didn't do anything with him."

"You're lying. I'm taking you to the doctor as soon as you get better."



Dr. Wilson stepped out into the lobby. It was after hours at his small practice, but he had made an exception. He smiled sadly.

"Harry? I'm finished. Please come with me to my office." Summer's father smoked his cigarette nervously as he walked into the office and sat down opposite the doctor. "I checked her and- I'm sorry. The hymen is broken, indicating she did have intercourse." Summer's father dropped his cigarette onto the floor, his eyes wide in shock. He knew there was the major possibility that it had happened, but to hear for a fact that it was true...

"Geez Rob, I'm sorry about that," he said as he swooped down to pick up the cigarette, and threw it into the trash can. He opened up his cigarette box and unsteadily grabbed another cigarette to light up.

"I'm....so sorry Harry. I know you did your best. You raised her in a good Christian home-" Harry simply looked at the floor, with a look of defeat on his face.

"No, don't be sorry. It's- it's not your fault. That...that bastard! What I could do now if I could get my hands on him..." Dr. Wilson put a hand on Harold's shoulder.

"It's already happened. There's nothing you can do. Now, as for the pregnancy..." Harold took a hard puff from the cigarette. "We don't know yet. I sent the test in, and it will be back in a week."

"Oh-okay," Harold said nervously. He paused for a minute. "Rob? We've been buddies forever. Just, please remember to keep this quiet. Please. You know how important this is to our family." Dr. Wilson nodded his head.

"No prob, Harry. You're like my brother. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you or your family."



"You should have stayed with Emily, dammit!" Summer stared out the window of their car, even though it was night and there was nothing to see. Summer closed her eyes and drowned out the angry ramblings of her father.

Do we always live in a world of "shoulds"? What if we had done everything we should have in our life? Where would we be right now? A whole world of "ifs" and "maybes" and "don'ts" and "ought to's". That's all they did! Just how many times do we actually listen to ourselves? Maybe its all those "shoulds" that led Summer from her path in the first place.

"...I'm gonna prosecute that bastard. Even if we can't prove full-blown rape, Summer, if he's over eighteen..."

"He already left. You're not gonna find him. I wouldn't testify anyway...I don't ever want to think about again." She scoffed. "And...I know you don't want bad publicity anyway."

"What? What do you mean? Summer, you know that's not true..."

"He was just going through Tulsa. I'm sorry," she stated mechanically, "I know I shouldn't have. I knew he was a drifter...maybe if I had thought of the consequences...if I had stayed with Emily...if I had been a good little girl...I ought to straighten up..." He slammed the dashboard with the palm of his hand; it was unusual for him to show emotions like that. He hurt; he hurt really bad. But he didn't know how to handle it.

"Don't. Don't say that, Summer. I know I should have been there for you..."

"You can't change the past."



Her mother was ferociously scrubbing the floor, and her father had been smoking nonstop for two hours when they got the call. She wasn't pregnant.

Summer's father was relieved, even though it still hurt. As long as it didn't get out what had happened to Summer...

Summer's mother was going crazy with what had happened with her daughter, but she denied it all. Her daughter had not had sex. Just put on a smile and everything's okay...





 His head was starting to spin, his blurred vision making him queasy. Johnny was suffocating. His father was losing grip, and there was no turning back now. The man wasn't going to stop. Johnny was now sure of it.

He needed to fight back, or he was going to die.

Johnny knew that if he didn't stop it soon, his father would end up killing him. Tonight. Everything had become surreal and was moving in slow motion. It was difficult to keep concentration with the agony his body was experiencing. But he had to get past the physical. His fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. His arm burned.

It was almost beautiful. The shattering glass, the huge mass crashing to the floor. The blood splattering all over the couch and leaking onto the cheap tile beneath it.

Ha. Beautiful.

Johnny's mother gasped in surprise. Then everything went silent.

The bastard was sprawled out across the floor, thick red blood pouring out of the huge gash that lay across his forehead. He was unconscious. Johnny's mother stared in disbelief at the scene that had just taken place in front of her, her small black pupils darting back and forth from husband to son. After what seemed like an hour, she spoke slowly and with uncertainty.

"You...look what you did." She couldn't believe what her son had just done. Neither could Johnny. There was more silence.

Who would have thought? Who would have thought that such a sensitive, delicate, selfless kid could have committed an act like that? It can only go so far before you breakdown...

No matter how perfect you are.




He was smiling as he shut the door. He slipped his expensive red jacket off, and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

"So, we gonna do this or what?" Summer started unbuttoning her shirt.

"Yeah, I'm ready." The sixteen year old had changed a lot since...

You're a slut! That's all you are.

But I can't do without it. It doesn't matter anyway because I'm dead inside.

She hadn't done it that often until about a year ago. It was always on her mind, and she used to fight it. But she got so tired of fighting. So Summer started to do it more and more frequently. Yes, physically, it felt good. The release empowered her. It was just the after-effect that made her feel so...

Now, she didn't really feel fear. It was more like an insecure cynicism. She pretended she had power over herself: not her parents, not her friends, not him. It was just her. She didn't need anybody else! All her emotions would come in short pangs, and simply disappear. She never felt unhappy, or scared for more than a few seconds. She always push down the feelings an instant after that. But she would never let herself feel anything that others enjoyed.

I can manage just fine by myself!

But could she? Was she really her own self or had the authority simply shifted forms, transferring from one figure to another? Now she would never live up to her parents' expectations.

Good! Fuck them anyway...

But did she really want this either? Maybe he had left more of an imprint than she thought.



"I can't let you go out tonight."

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it? Ground me, call the cops, I don't care." She brushed past her mother and ran out the door. She was way past being able to control.

"Summer! You're not leaving this house, get back here!"

The inevitable had happened and it was all Summer's fault.



"It's 3 o' clock in the morning, Summer. Your mother told you you couldn't go out. She couldn't go to sleep for hours because she was so worried; she was so exhausted from the stress she finally dozed off. I have been up all this time, waiting for you to come back, wondering if you were safe." She stepped past her father, attempting to make her way toward the bedroom.

"Funny how you're here now, you weren't here earlier to tell me this. Oh yeah," she remarked bitterly, "I forgot. You were at work. Again." Her father stepped in front of the staircase. It had been going on for three years, getting increasingly worse each year...but the situation she was in now, it would make her fall apart...

"I can't believe my sweet little daughter has become what you have now. Your nasty attitude, your irresponsibility, your..." he stopped himself short. Summer stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"My what?" she questioned quietly.

"Nothing. You've just become a different person, Summer..."

"My what!" Her voice had risen now, urging him to continue. He looked into her eyes with spite and disgust.

"Your...promiscuity. You shame this family. I have told you numerous times to stop, I try to hold you back as best I can, goddamit Summer, I've tried everything. You're just getting progressively worse...you've become nothing but a two-cent whore..."

"Shut up!" Summer screamed, covering her ears as if it would make the problem go away, "Just shut up! I hate you! I fucking hate you!" She stepped closer to him, then angrily slapped his face.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, bringing his fingers up to the cut her ring had caused. "That's it." Before he could reach her she ran up the stairs. Summer managed to make her way through the doorway of her bedroom, but her father caught the door before she could close it. After struggling with him to shut the door, she finally gave up. Summer had grown a lot within the past few years, but was still no match for her father. He stepped into the room, blocking the doorway to make sure she wouldn't run out.

"How many times, Summer? How many guys?" Summer flopped onto the bed, staring at the design on the comforter. "The rumors that have been going around, practically the whole town knows. This has ruined my practice. My clients are dwindling. That's not to even mention my shot in the forthcoming elections. I might as well forget it now." He said nothing else, then after pondering, continued earnestly. "It's amazing you've gone this long without getting pregnant..." Summer lay flat out on her bed, drowning out his words. For a long time she had managed to stop herself, but she had realized she was just running in place. So why not? Why not give yourself a release if your future doesn't matter anymore? Life was never going to be what she expected. It's sad when you learn there's nothing to live for.

She turned her face into the pillow, trying to push the thoughts away. With what she knew, it was surprising she didn't even feel anything. There was no way she would be able to handle someone else when she couldn't even handle herself.

"Summer! Don't you turn away from me." Summer raised her head from the fabric, examining the headboard with difficulty.

"Dad?" she stated quietly, as if she were a little girl again. "I...I think I'm pregnant."




After the initial shock, her eyes shifted from a look of bewilderment to complete disgust.

"How could you? You worthless piece of shit." Johnny could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His face and back were throbbing in severe pain. As his mother's angry rantings continued, Johnny's eyes focused in on a shiny, sharp little piece of glass that lay by itself on the cheap tile. Everything else around him was blocked out; almost as if he had tunnel vision. The shard of glass was so...

Beautiful.

Johnny could feel it beckoning him. His body was drenched in sweat as he crawled on the floor to the object. He didn't see his mother picking up the phone, he didn't see his mother dialing 911. He was just so tired. So tired of it all.

So tired of life.

His clammy hands grasped onto the sharp, shiny item. Johnny felt a sense of euphoria as he pressed the glass to his wrist. It was all going to be over now. The hopelessness, the anger.

The pain.




That's what her parents were afraid of.

They were afraid of being burned and it leaving an imprint on them forever. Soap can't clean the scars, water can't rinse it off. It's not easy to fix. Stepping out of the boundaries is unpredictable, so just don't get hurt in the first place! It's simple enough, right? Just how much do you miss because of that?

Summer was so drained because of it, because of the situation that had presented itself to her.

But it's so simple, it's so simple...

Just do it the fast way...

Just fix it.



"Umm..." he peered over at his wife, twiddling his thumbs like a lost little boy. His body was shaking slightly and if he thought too long about the decision he had made...what they had done...bile would start rising up in his throat. It was killing him, if he would have known how it would have made him feel...

His wife stood next to him, her eyes almost seemed to be drowning...in pain, regret...

"Summer, please talk to us." She didn't move at all, it was as if she was catatonic. But Summer had agreed to it indirectly, right? She had been so terrified, although she hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. So she didn't fight back, she didn't challenge the decision.

Always giving in to those darn authority figures.

Her eyes had been staring at the hospital ceiling for such a long time that the image started to blur. She didn't know if she could ever speak to them again. Summer was so mad, so hurt, so hopeless.

She was so dead inside...





Lyrics from "Blinded by the Light"