I just had to get this up quickly cuz I don't know when I will have free time to do so so here it is. People have been asking 'Where is she going' and I have received some imaginative ideas from Sunny but after much asking I told her where Kirsten goes so Sunny, quiet! Lol. I have incorporated some of Sunny's ideas into the start of the fic but I think you'll all be surprised where she actually does go.

I had to change the ending a wee bit due to The O.Sea but I hope it's good. There should be two or three more chapters left to go and I have no idea when I can get them up so please please please be patient. Thanks

Disclaimer: Don't own any OC character but I wish I owned Kirsten sigh

Here we go.

Berkeley?

Berkeley.

The place where she was free from the constraints and expectations of her father.

The place where she became known as 'Kear' and not 'Kiki'.

The place she met Sandy.

The place she met . . . Sandy

At first she had considered going there because she could stay with Lisa and catch up with her and lie that Sandy wished he could come but was too busy so she came instead. But Kirsten quickly weighed up the pros with the cons in her head and the pros won. That was why she didn't go to Berkeley. It was the perfect place to go; it was far away from Sandy and her family but it was probably the most obvious place to go and the first place Sandy would look.

Kirsten refused to go there.

She left home.

Where would she go?

Where could she go?

Japan?

Kirsten desperately missed her sister Hailey and she hadn't heard much from her so she could go there and surprise Hailey.

She couldn't.

She didn't have her passport to go there and that put a dampener on her other option.

Maui.

It was also out of the question. Jimmy would call Sandy the second her back was turned telling Sandy that she arrived safely because she refused to call and Sandy would fly out immediately and 'retrieve' her like she was an escaped mental patient who had wondered the streets.

Sandy's attempts to help her with her 'drinking' were futile for she still craved the burning sensation it brought. The pure eradication of her problems which she drowned every hour since Carter left her alone.

Lately her family has been treating her like a child or rather an invalid. Kirsten remembered the lecture she had gotten from her father when he found her and Jimmy pouring beer down the toilet when she was younger. Kirsten also remembered watching her mother downing a vodka and lemonade in one large gulp and she knew the reason. Her father. Her father had been the main source of Kirsten's anguish but lately Sandy had unknowingly added to the pile. And that increased the amount of vodka needed to countermeasure the shit that kept piling up on the scales. But somewhere along the way, unbeknownst to Kirsten, the weight of vodka had exceeded its allotment to counter the problems.

Her nickname always reminded her that Caleb saw her as a child but what she couldn't stand her husband standing over her shoulder like he was her father. Kirsten didn't need another father, she needed her husband. She felt like he didn't trust her to be alone for half a second.

Where a father would usually say "Eat your greens there and I'll tuck you in tonight." Sandy on the other hand was saying, "Give up drinking and I won't send you to rehab."

Rehab.

Rehabilitation.

Kirsten's husband wanted to send her away because he didn't want to be there for her and simply gave up trying to help. He wanted her out of the house. If that was the case, Kirsten wasn't going to be there to let him help.

Walking through the silent sleeping neighbourhoods no one heard her internal screams as she contemplated her decision.

Not her decision to leave.

Her decision of where she was going.

The cool night air harassed her frail and tiny body but although it chilled her very being she continued to walk blankly and emotionlessly and refused to stop and put her sweater on.

Frail. She was still frail.

'What do I have to go to get rid of that label?' she asked herself.

Kirsten continued to walk along the path, cross roads and walk with her arms at her sides and feet shuffling on the perfect surfaces that made up the mirage that is Newport.

Unbeknownst to Kirsten, tears had snaked their way down her once porcelain cheek and lay on the path to evaporate and become part of a cycle. The tears had a purpose whereas she didn't or she thought she didn't.

Then she came to a stop outside her destination.

Kirsten knew that although she hated some of the years she spent there, it was where good memories were born and where she realised she had to do something for herself.

The noise of the ever present crickets created a numbing soothing atmosphere as she walked along the darkened path to the back.

When she arrived at the back, romantic and hyperactive memories came back to her.

Kirsten remembered the hole in the hedge where she taught Jimmy to climb through it to sneak in and see her. She also remembered the night Jimmy got his trouser leg caught on a branch in the hedge and he drunkenly tried to free himself while Kirsten struggled to breathe in between laughs.

Quickly and elegantly she manoeuvred her battered body through the hedge and into the vast garden.

Here more memories assaulted her.

A five year old Kirsten running from Caleb gleefully to her mother who scooped her up and kissed her on the cheek.

A two year old blonde child playing with her father and being lifted onto his shoulder and spun around with her blonde hair flying in the California sun.

And finally a thirteen year old girl playing with her baby sister.

Crossing the vast back garden she stopped at the backdoor and retrieved the keys she unconsciously packed from her backpack and opened the door and quickly turned off the alarm and locked the door behind her.

She turned around and was greeted by a dark kitchen and knowing the house she grew up in like the back of her hand she walked down the hall towards the front door and turned and stepped up each individual step to the first floor and passed the closed doors until she arrived at the one she wanted.

Her bedroom.

Instead of stopping in front of it she walked straight in knowing that it was her bedroom because her mother had forbidden Caleb from changing her room after she apparently 'betrayed' him and left for Berkeley.

Setting her bag down on the floor against her bedside table, she retrieved the matches on her dresser and quickly lit the candles that sat on the wooden piece of furniture. The soft light illuminated the room but not so much as a bulb would. She didn't want to alert people to her presence and her heavy maroon curtains accomplished that.

Once she was satisfied with the lighting, she walked casually into her closet and crouched down in front of several boxes. She stretched her hand behind them and unveiled a hidden box covered in dust.

Ignoring the dust, Kirsten lifted the lid and drank from one of the numerous bottles in there.

Kirsten welcomed the burning sensation it provided and walked back out into the room as if she had just drunk water not vodka and lay down on her bed continually drinking.

After she had drank half the bottle in less than two minutes she looked around her and her eyes settled on an old photograph of her and Sandy her mother took on Sandy's first visit to Newport.

They were standing on the terrace against the wall that offered a spectacular view of the ocean. Kirsten was standing in front of Sandy with his arms wrapped around her with their heads touching. Their pure angelic smiles radiated the love they felt for each other.

That was the Kirsten she wanted to be; happy and in love and not drunk and depressed.

Kirsten looked at the picture one more time before consuming the rest of the vodka bottle. She had to cover her mouth to prevent bile rising up but it never reached any further than her throat. She knew she promised Sandy she was done with drinking but he was going to send her away anyway so why not drink herself into a coma.

Kirsten stood and sat the vodka bottle on the dresser trembling and blew out the several candles shuffled her way back to bed to fall asleep.

Even though her sleep was vodka induced it was far from peaceful. Her dreams were haunted by what she told her father that day, "If this family is screwed up it's because of you!" and she had flashes of the glass tumbler smashing as he called her the name he had given her at birth. 'Kiki'. Once she thought her father saw 'Kiki' as her birth name and 'Kirsten' as a nickname. Now he knew not to call her that.

She also had a dream about being carried into rehab by a burly man kicking and screaming and thrown onto a hospital bed and injected with a sedative all the while screaming for help and begging for Sandy to tell them to stop and let her go but in her dream Sandy simply stood back and watched casually.

She curled up in her childhood bed remembering the make out sessions she had with Jimmy and also with Sandy when they were alone and all the hours she spent drinking a little each time while pouring her heart out to a teddy bear called Lorenzo.

Kirsten remembered it all as she slept.

When she woke hours later her head was aching and her stomach was restless but it was behaving itself. If she had not have drunk a complete bottle of vodka a few hours previously in less than five minutes she was have some symptoms of pregnancy but she would've found out she was pregnant at the hospital after the crash.

Drowsily she opened her back pack and took out the box she packed yesterday and a shiny packet. Taking the packet into the bathroom she quickly took a shower and rubbed the liquid from the packet into her hair.

The warm water running over her bruised body eased the tension and numb throbbing pain that pulsated through her body. The hot water against her temple stung for a short time but she adapted to it.

Coming out of the shower she looked at herself in the mirror.

Again she was disgusted at her appearance and her reflection again taunted her with its foul language and cruel words. But one thing was different.

Her hair colour.

It wasn't blonde.

It was brunette.

Her pristine blonde layered hair was now brunette.

Looking at the packet it said, "One Night Colour – Lasts for 24 hours and washes out easily". 24 hours. It should hide her identity for that long.

Wrapping her hair in a towel she went back into the bedroom and got changed into a pair of baggy jeans, a tank top and sneakers all the while drinking from yet another vodka bottle.

She quickly combed the tangles out of her hair and quickly blew dry it straight while taking the odd sip from the bottle that seemed to be permanently wielded to her elegant fingers.

Kirsten liked this.

Being alone without the preying eyes of her husband and father and the concerned and disappointed looks of her sons. She could wear whatever she wanted, drink whatever she wanted and scream if she wanted.

She would be doing a lot of screaming soon enough.

Soon enough.

I have lost count of the people who know what is gonna happen; Michelles x3, Emz and Sunny ssh! Well that's it for the time being and this time I have no idea when I can update, probably next Saturday. Love yas all for your comments. Please review this one.