A/N Yay thanks for the review! I realized that I didn't really say how Greg got Sara to his house. Thanks for reminding me. So I put that in this chapter. I also realized that I'm updating everyday, that's because I'm soo into writing this one right now lol. I'm writing like crazy in my notebook. Except I never write what I write in my notebook here, its just sort of my ideas for the next chapter…

Sara gripped her backpack tightly, tears stained her pale face, and her hair was damp, plastered to her face. She stared at her mom screaming, "You were with her? You were cheating weren't you! Not coming hom—"


"Honey! I'd never I swear…" Sara's father said in a calm voice, shaking slightly, he had the same deep dark brown eyes as his daughters.

"Shut up! I don't want to here you apologize! You're a fucking—"

"Please, our daughter…" Her father started, turning to Sara who had came home from school several minutes ago, and was staring, standing there, listening, her heart breaking with every word. Her mother spun around on one foot, shot a nasty glare, enough to kill a man at Sara; her devilish hazel eyes were sparkling in fiery.


"And you, eaves dropping, taking his side always, you're a worthless piece of shit! You're never good at anything; just go kill yourself for all I care!." Her words were like poison, stinging Sara, more tears flew down her face, her body shook. Sara pulled her hair in front of her eyes, hiding her red face. "You're always interfering with my life; you think your better then me don't you? You trashy bitch!" Sara's mother grabbed the closest thing her hands could grab, a book. She flung it at Sara with incredible force, hitting Sara square in the face. Sara screams of pain filled the room.

Just go kill yourself, worthless… eaves dropping; you think your better don't you? You Trashy Bitch!

"Sara! Sara." She felt a hand pushing her, her eyes snapped open and she sat straight up in bed, cold sweat dripping from her forehead, shivers ran up her spine in small waves, her eyes stung from tears, "Sara, it's okay, it was a dream." Sara recognized the voice but was too caught up in her dream to remember who it was.

Just go kill yourself, worthless… eaves dropping; you think your better don't you? You Trashy Bitch!

She felt an arm around her pulling her closer; Sara shut her eyes tears stinging her raw dry face. There was a hand on her forehead. "Sara, your burning up, are you okay? Sara?" Sara didn't answer, she couldn't, memories were flooding her mind, her thoughts, and she couldn't concentrate. "I'm going to get you some sleeping medicine, and Tylenol, stay here." She felt the person leave her side, and she felt a wave of coldness wash over her as he left. She heard him say sleeping pill, terrified to fall back asleep, she opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. She felt dizzy; her head felt heavy as if it had gained ten more pounds.

Greg came back, helped Sara swallow the pills. He gently stroked her hair with his fingers, and laid Sara back onto the pillow. She felt as if she was in a daze, not sure what was going on around her, she felt as if she was watching herself from above this whole time, like it wasn't really her who cut herself, like it wasn't really her who was laying in Greg's bed, drifting into another restless slumber.

Greg watched nervously as Sara fell asleep once more. Her face was damp with sweat, along with the rest of her body. Whatever was going on with Sara, Greg felt useless, as if he had to watch all that he did with no say in anything. He brushed his fingers gently through her hair and sighed. He closed his own eyes, remembering finding Sara on the ground in the locker room, images of her blood flashed through his mind. She had fallen on him, passed out. He remembered cleaning up the blood, the glass, shutting Sara's locker. He made sure all signs of blood were not visible the last thing Sara needed was the rest of the night shift asking questions. Greg had picked Sara up, carrying her motionless body, out of the building; swiftly he had avoided the rest of the team.

Now staring at Sara, he wondered if it was all worth it, would she have been better off in the hands of a doctor. In better care? No, he thought, that's not what Sara, would have wanted…

Sara hid under the bed, covered in darkness, she covered her ears so not to hear the screaming in the other room.

"You fucking idiot, did you not think I would find out?" Her mother's shouts flooded the room, the house, her ears. Sara could not here her fathers muffled response. This wasn't going to be any bad as the others, Sara would assure herself. Constantly her mother would yell, cry, throw fits, but eventually it would die down, she would apologize and it would be all better, like nothing had happened. She had these moments, these moments Sara would sometimes call "her dark side." She wasn't always like this, Sara had remembered when she was younger her mother would take her to the park, push her on the swings, she remembered it so well, her mothers sweet smile, the wind blowing through her hair tickling her skin. Often she would even buy her ice cream. However Sara had overhead that her mother had severe depression problems. She had a treatment that would make her mother act almost normal. When Sara turned six her mother had refused to take the medication, that's when things got bad, the fights, the arguments turned into physical abuse. Yet her father never reported the abuse, it just got worse.

But it's just going to be like all those other times, Sara thought, but as she did she heard her father's scream, a thud. Then silence. She closed her eyes;' it's not that bad, not bad.' She whispered to herself.

Sara's eyes fluttered open, she tried to move her head, but it hurt, pain shot from her eyes to the back of her head. She moaned and tried to sit up, she felt the room spinning. Sara looked around; Greg was not in site, although this was his room. She pulled her feet out of the bed, and stood up, her body began to shake again, the room was spinning, stepping forward she gripped the wall for support and started walking to the door. Clumsily she knocked into his dresser, hitting her arm, she screamed as the pain made its way up her arm, moving to the rest of her body, she stumbled forwards, loosing her balance she fell to her knees the, cut's resulting in more sharp stings, then her head hit the floor with a loud thud, her eyes closed once again, leaving her in utter blackness, alone.

Just go kill yourself, worthless… eaves dropping; you think your better don't you? You Trashy Bitch!

The words rang through her head, echoing, stinging, hurting. Again she wished she was dead. Maybe then she wouldn't hurt. Maybe then she would be at peace. Maybe.

A/N Shorter then before, sorry. It's only cause I know what I want to write for the next chapter, and I don't to write it here. I gotta leave you hanging!