Summary: It had been a week since her cousin had died, and 18-year old Sam Manson still wasn't able to get over it. To cheer her up, Tucker persuades three of them to go on a road trip for old time sake. But the trip ends up being nothin but hell for the three of them.

Are you kidding me! Someone actually is bothering to read this? I'm touched...really I am. My first fanfic so be nice! Well, you know the drill, read, review, yadda yadda yadda. Well, Dig in! It's getting cold.

The Highs and Lows
And
Everywhere In Between

-1-

The Letter She Wrote

For eons past and eons yet to come, philosophers have searched for the meaning of life. They would look up into the night sky and gaze up at the stars above them, questioning life over and over again in their minds. And yet, never could truly find that one sentence to define it all.
But in the simplest terms, life can not be defined. Because each person's life is different, unique in its own way, one sentence could never describe every life being lived. We often take life for granted. We simply look at it and not appreciate all of it until suddenly, we're gone, and we can't turn back time and go back to where we started. It's like a thread. Delicate. Every second closer it gets in between a pair of scissors is every second closer it comes to being cut.
It is only when we are corrupted by greed, that we are blinded and are not able to see the simple pleasures that life gives us and appreciate them. Skipping small stones, the touch of grass, or the sweet softness of the wind against our face.
But greed is not the only thing that blinds us from life's pleasures. Some think too little of life and want nothing more to do with it. They find that they don't have a purpose. And it is only when we think that, that the consequences are very dire...

It was a warm, dusty June night in Amity Park. And like most nights nowadays in Amity Park, something horrible was happening. There was always uproars with either something to do with ghost, mystical genies, meat monsters, crazed rock stars, or some other nonsense as we ourselves would call it. It had been this way for the past four years as everyone could remember quite clearly. Some believed the world was coming to an end, others thought it was a new type of terrorist attacks, and yet, others blamed the Harry Potter books with nothing else to blame. But this night surprisingly, had nothing to do with ghost whatsoever. It was just an average, normal disaster.
Many cars began to surround the main Amity Park bridge, as they had been since two in the morning. A lot of folks were disturbed from there normal (if you can call it that) lives. And from out of the distance, Detective Stacy pulled his small black car up to the guard rails on the bridge. He walked down the small dirt path that led under the bridge where police cars continued to pile in. They were trying to get everyone away from the accident and were 'attempting' fight off the news reporters that also 'attempted' to sneak into the ambulance trucks.
Detective Stacy continued to walk past groups of people until he saw a familiar face walk out from behind the small, blue, smashed up car that lay on the side of the dirt path
"Detective," the officer nodded at him.
"What's happened this time, Crow?"
"Another car just ran right off the bridge." Officer Crow replied making hand motions. He tended to do so when cars ran off the bridge
"I'm guessing it missed the water?" Detected Stacy smiled slightly looking at the car. "Was there alcohol involved?"
"No, sir," Officer Crow sighed. "...It was a suicide."
"Third one this month," the detective sighed. "Another forty year old lose her job at Hooters?"
"No ,sir. A girl, no more than twenty." Officer Crow said looking at his clip boar. "The aunt and uncle came by earlier identifying the girl as Abby Manson."
"The aunt and uncle?" Detective Stacy said raising an eyebrow. "Where were the parents?"
"The mother, Victoria Parr, died giving birth to her and the father, Scott Manson, died of drug overdose last month."
"Kids always take these things the hardest." the detective sighed. "Any other relations, besides the aunt and uncle?"
"Cousin, Sam Manson. She's eighteen." Crow replied.
"Has she found out yet?"
"Shouldn't be long now,"
"Figures," Detective Stacy nodded. "Anything else I should know about?"
"Well..." Officer Crow hesitated pulling a small plastic 'evidence' bag out of his shirt pocket. "This was found in the girls hand." he said pointing to the note inside the baggy. The detective reached for it.
"What's it say-"
"I do not tamper with evidence, detective!" Officer Crow said harshly.
"Right... " Detective Stacy sighed lowering his hand.
"Besides, Stacy," Officer Crow continued. "It's just a suicidal note. Nothing more. What could possibly be important about it?" Crow stuffed the baggy back into his pocket and strolled over to one of the cop cars. Detective Stacy just shook his head and began pacing towards one of the ambulance trucks. There was something important about that letter. He just knew it.
And so, an average, normal disaster had occurred. Perhaps one would think. But this was just one disaster that would set off a chain of such things yet to come that would either be just as bad, or worse, in their own way. But what three certain friends did not know, was that these certain disasters, would effect them, and possibly change their young lives forever...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Sam,
Life. What does it mean? Does it even have a meaning? If you look in the dictionary, it's always got all those weird definitions and such. But you wanna know something the definition's not gonna tell you? It's that the dictionary, IS FRIGGEN, WRONG! Life isn't about repeating the same freakin routine day, after day, after day, after day! And it certainly isn't that stupid game that we played with the little vans that the cat choked on. And although I wish I could tell you the definition, even I don't know what it truly means to live. Hhmm... Something me and the dictionary have in common...Sam, you and I know I've done so many stupid things in my life. I pray that when you read this you will take my advice and learn from my mistakes. Don't have them repeated again, Sam.
I'll keep in touch,
Abby

One week later...

Sam awoke in a daze, as she always did, and tried to use her hands to block out the small shine of the sun that was seeping through the rip in her black curtains. It had been the same thing day after day since graduation last week. She managed to open her eye lids just enough to see her butler, Winston, standing outside her door with a broad smile on his face. He was wearing his black tux, as he always did.
"Good morning, Miss Manson," he smiled brightly at her. He was a bit of a flamboyant butler, but a good heart, nonetheless.
"'Morning, Winston," she managed to smile through her yawn.
"May I say, Miss Manson, you look particularly lovely this morning."
"Winston, I look like shit," Sam said slicking her raven black hair behind her ears. "How many times must I tell you not to compliment me in the morning?"
"At least once more, Miss Manson." said Winston.
"As always." she laughed.
"Then again, that is your boyfriend's job."
"Danny tries," Sam smiled shrugging. "By the way, what time is it?"
"12:56, Miss," he said looking at his watch.
"WHAT!" she gasped bolting out of her bed and slamming the door on Winston's face.
"Hhmm...It's strange, Miss" she heard her say on the other side of the door. "I could have sworn you said you wanted to be woken up at eleven."
"I did!" she replied stumbling to put on a pair of black jeans. Winston opened the door to see what was wrong. Sam shrieked.
"WINSTON!" she yelled running over to close the door on his face yet again. But she tripped over her jeans that weren't quiet on right and hit the door closed with her face. "A little privacy would be nice!"
"Terribly sorry , Miss!" he called wiping the sweat off his forehead. "What's your rush anyway?"
"I already told you, Winston," she said putting on a long sleeve black top with a blue oval in the center."Danny and I are heading on over to Tucker's new apartment. He's been spazzin at us to go all week."
"He tends to do that a lot, doesn't he, Miss?"
"The hell he does!" she replied putting on her purple lip gloss.
"Well," Winston said coming in. "You shouldn't rush your self. If there's one thing I know about your boyfriend, it's that he's always late. Now, what shall I tell your parents if your not back by the end of the week again?"
"Oh, just tell them I went on some gothic band tour like you usually do." she said reaching for her black eye liner.
"You don't think they'll get suspicious, do you?"
"Who, my parents?" Sam smiled. "they wouldn't notice me even if I ran into the house covered in chalk-don't tell them I'm with Danny, though. You know how much my dad hates him."
"Oh, Sam," Winston sighed sitting on her bed. "Your father does not hate him...he just doesn't trust him. He does like him, though...somewhat."
"My dad likes him?" Sam turned around to face Winston after she put on a studded belt. "Do you remember what happened last year when we took Danny on that fox hunt?"
"...um...no?" Winston said trying to sound somewhat convincing.
"I do," Sam smiled folding her arms. "Dad tried to shoot him with a shot gun. What do you call that?"
"...um...tough love?" Winston laughed trying to make her feel better. Sam just rolled her eyes and put part of her hair up in a green hair elastic. Winston turned to face her. "You miss Abby, don't you?" Sam turned away to put her black and purple chucks on over her skull socks.
"Cant say I don't." she answered. Winston could sense the sadness in her tone.
"Oh, don't be sad, Miss," he said to her. "Because when your upset, I get upset and cry-oh jeez," Winston said clapping a hand to his face.
"Oh, Winston, it's okay," Sam hugged him.
DING DONG
"Oh!" Winston perked up immediately as if he was never crying. He began clapping. "That most be the girl scouts with my thin mints! Oh, hurrah!" Winston dashed out of Sam's room and headed for the door downstairs.
"Winston, NO!" Sam called after him. "That's probably Danny! Don't open it- I look like shit!" Well, as usual, Winston totally ignored her and opened the door with a wide smile on his face. But the smile faded once he saw that there were no girl scouts at the door.
The only person that stood outside the door was Danny. He was wearing one his old white T-shirts with an unbuttoned red plaid shirt over it that was rolled up to his elbows. His jeans were a little ripped at the bottom and his jet black hair was sticking up a little in the front. His eyes were blood shot and were filled with sleep. He always slept late in the summer. Sometimes Sam's Dad would think he was high.
"Oh," Winston sighed. "It's just you. Well, nevertheless, it's good to see you, Master Fenton."
"Um...were you expecting someone else, Winston?" Danny asked a bit confused.
"Well, actually, yes. As a matter of fact I was." Winston sighed. "You see, last week I ordered a box of thin mint girl scout cookies, and they still haven't gotten here yet."
"So...you were hoping I'd be a girl scout?"
"Yes," Winston said slightly embarrassed. "Terribly sorry."
"No, no, It's alright," Danny laughed. " And I hate to be the one to break this to you, but girl scout cookies take months to arrive."
"WHAT!" Winston shouted at the top of his lungs. "YOU MEAN I HAVE TO WAIT A WHOLE MONTH TO RECEIVE MY THIN MINTS! THIS IS OUTRAGOUS!"
"Yes...wild!" Danny replied. "Um, you wouldn't happen to know were Sam is, would you?"
"Oh, yes, the whole reason you came," Winston said to himself. "I'm pretty sure she's upstairs somewhere."
"DAMN IT!" they heard her yell from upstairs.
"...Um, either she's poked herself with the eyeliner again or she tripped over the cat." Winston nodded to Danny.
"STUPID CAT! What are you even doing upstairs?"
"MR. WHISKERS!" Winston shrieked grabbing the black cat that ran downstairs. "Oh, my poor baby." he stroked the cat lovingly as Sam slid down the stairs ,running over to Danny.
"Hey," she smiled kissing him.
"Hey," he smiled kissing her back.
"Oh, get a room why don't you to?" Winston rolled his eyes setting down the cat. "There you go Mr. Whiskers." he smiled at the cat. "Now, you two go have fun, I'm going to call those girl scouts and give them a piece of my mind."
"Just don't have the police come back to the house looking for dead bodies!" Sam called as she and Danny walked out the door.
"What ever, Miss," Winston rolled his eyes dialing a number on his phone. "Hello, operator?" he spoke into the phone. "Get me the girl scouts...what do you mean I'm not being specific enough?...I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU DO! JUST GET THEM!"

...And that's the end of that chapter...WOOT WOOT! This is exciting! Well, I pray you will read and review and look out for my next chapter! And remember, reviews ARE good. They make people smile :)
- sincerely,
I Break For Ghosts