After Seth endured awkward hugs and condolences from relatives, he tried retreating to a separate room where he didn't have to deal with reality. Even though he wanted to be seen as a responsible adult now that he was in college and living away from home on his own, the innocent nature in him wanted to just let the real adults deal with everything. With his bags in hand, he made his way to one of the back bedrooms and shut the door behind him. His aunt lived in Boston and had plenty of room for everyone to crash. He unzipped his bag and started to take his clothes out, but before he could reach the bottom, his hand grazed over some smooth turquoise material. He dug deeper until her realized Princess Sparkle had somehow made it in his bag. When he pulled it out, he noticed a crumpled piece of paper on her back.

-Cohen,

I know I will see you tomorrow, but I thought Princess Sparkle could keep you company until then. I even packed her comb for you. I love you.

-Summer.

A smile spread through his heart and across his face. It still amazed him that the girl he chose was thing amazing to him. It was almost like she chose him. And she did, in her own way. After he actually made her wait when he chose Anna by mistake, when he sailed away, the numerous times he had lied. Her love for him was not phased by anything. If there was something, Seth hadn't thought of it yet.

Since it was late, he thought he should call Summer. After five rings, it went straight to her voicemail.

"Hey Sum, its me. Thanks for sending Princess Sparkle with me. 'What's that PS?' Oh, she wants to say hi," Seth said making horse noises into the phone. "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I love you. Bye." He hung up the phone and got ready for bed.

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Her first reaction was to scream. So she did. But of course no one heard. With a hand almost the entire size of Summer's face, the pressure against her mouth and small features was so tight.

'What the hell is going on?' was thought number one. Thought number two, 'I'm going to die.'

She tried biting the mysterious black covered hand but couldn't open her mouth. In fact, she couldn't even breathe. And, if she wasn't panicked enough from someone grabbing her, the lack of oxygen made it worse. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest it was pounding so hard. Struggling to get out from under his grasp, she brought her two tiny hands up to his large on and desperately tried releasing herself from his grasp. Being as small as she was, she hardly made a dent in her movement. She did however, have enough strength to allow her mouth to take in some air.

She immediately yelled out, "Heeelp! Someone please." But the tears in her eyes and the hitch in her throat dislodged her cries so quietly, it made it impossible for anyone to hear.

The guy continued to hold her steadily and then started dragging her backwards, while her feet tried to stay firmly on the ground. 'God, he's taking me somewhere. This is it,' she thought as another wave of panic hit her. Summer continued to let out cries of help under his stiff hand, which did nothing other than strain her poor voice. Her feet did no good either.

With one quick move, he was able to lift her off the ground and easily carry her away into the night.

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Seth woke up in a cold sweat. His heart was racing for some unexplained reason. Sweat beaded off his forehead and down his face. It felt like he had just had a bad dream, but couldn't remember what had happened. He looked at the clock on the nightstand, 2:43. Especially in the past few months, Seth had been accustomed to having a warm body next to him. He looked over, knowing there was nothing but sheets in the place of where he wished Summer was. He sat up and turned on the light, realizing it would be very difficult for him to fall asleep again. Seth pulled himself out of the bed and proceeded to the kitchen, but before he could reach the fridge, he saw his dad sitting at the table.

"Hey son," he said quietly. "Can't sleep either."

"Ah, yeah, I guess. And I was just kinda thirsty so…"

"Yeah, me too." For someone whose mother just died, Seth thought he looked pretty good, but he still wasn't sure. He pulled a chair out so he could sit across from his dad.

"So," he started. "How are you?" Seth asked concerned. "Which I know is a stupid question considering, but I thought I'd ask since I haven't really talked to you, really."

"Oh well, you know," Sandy said waving his hand, "Things are gonna be a little crazy around here for a while. I'm doing okay. I'm just trying not to blame myself that I wasn't here when it happened. All I can say is, I'm glad we ended on a good note."

He was right. Compared to when Seth was younger, things between his dad and his nana were clearly better. Seth could tell he was still angry that about not being here though. Despite the cancer that nana had overcome, what got her was a stroke. Unexpected and unexplained, Sandy did not have enough time to get out here to say goodbye.

"Ma told me about how you and Summer had been over to her place for dinner a few times. She really loved having you over."

Seth shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. It was actually Summer's idea."

Sandy looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yep." Seth smiled. That was all he needed to say; Sandy could see the admiration in Seth's eyes.

"So, for the funeral, I was wondering if you would like to say something, because I know you always have something to say. And there are other people speaking, but I know you got to know her a little better, especially in these past few moths, so I thought…"

"Um, sure," Seth said before Sandy could even finish.

"Great. Thanks Seth. It means a lot," he said seriously. "Well, I'm gonna try to get some sleep, you should do the same." He got up and put his hand on Seth's back, leaving the teenager alone at the table.

"Night." 'Sleep,' he thought. 'It sounded so good,' but somehow he couldn't do it. He went back to his bed, took out Princess Sparkles and started to comb through her soft hair, wishing it were Summer's. He finally fell asleep at 5:50. Little did he know, that would probably be the most amount of sleep he would come by in a long time.

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Summer stirred as she felt a flicker of light hit the top of her forehead. Her hand was under her stomach, which was currently face down on an incredibly hard surface. She tried pushing her hand off the ground to move herself. No such luck. 'That was one crazy dream,' she thought in the midst of figuring out how to get up.

'It feels like I just ran a marathon. Why am I so sore?' Every square inch of her body hurt. After moments of regaining strength to pull herself from the concrete ground, her trembling hands went around her sweatshirt-less waist.

'Oh God.' This was not a dream. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Flashbacks of the black hand carrying her dragging feet came rushing back. Her heart started racing again and she let out a whimper of pain as her hand grazed against her scab stricken abdomen. The tears started falling instantly, but then she realized something. She was alive. After repossessing her emotions again, she quietly listened around her. Not a noise was made.

'Where am I?' Examining the room around her, she found nothing but four walls and a very old bed. A desk in the corner had been overturned with a chair in front of it. No windows and a small wooden door completed the room. It looked as though someone had put of a fight. The dungeon feeling made Summer even more frightened. The shaking in her hands began again as she thought of looking for her phone. She had only carried a small bag and a couple of books to the library and somehow the guy who took her was too stupid to get rid of the bag also. She found her bag with papers still in tact and furiously began digging for her phone.

A sigh of relief came when she saw her pink Razor at the bottom. Her eyes welled up again. She had never been this scared in her entire life. She flipped the phone open, to find but one tiny bar of reception in the corner.

'Shit.' She began shaking again and somehow managed to hit number 2. She tried sitting up to bring her phone to a higher level, but winced at the pain that went shooting through her legs, then her hips and waist.

Connecting to Cohen…connecting to Cohen…connec—Calling Cohen…she rushed the phone to her ear. It was almost impossible to hear the rings, but she was sure they were there. They had to be. She forced herself to hear them. She broke down once she heard the line click dead, curling into a ball, hugging her scrapped knees to her broken hearted chest.