Summary: Peyton Sawyer needed to find herself. And she knew she couldn't find herself here.
a/n: story takes place in the middle of season three. Jake is back, and Peyton's mom just died.
Broken. Broken was a word to describe a lot of things. Broken noses. Broken pictures. Broken glass. Brooke relationships. Broken Hearts. Broken.
"Drug's Peyton? AGAIN?" His voice was harsh, echoes of the words that's she had let him down again, filled the room.
"I'm sorry okay!" She put her hand over her mouth, and looked away. He usually wasn't like this, only when he was angry. And he rarely got angry; only when something bad happened, like drugs.
"I can't be with you Peyton." He said, calmly. He held up the bag full of the evidence, the reason for this fight. He closed his eyes slightly. Was he really going to say this? Yes, he had to.
"I can't be your boyfriend anymore, you're out of control. Smoking, drugs, what else don't I know of?" He asked her, it was a simple question, for him. But what he didn't know was this question, killed the girl in front of him. Slowly dying, she picked herself up and went over to him. She looked him straight in the face but couldn't stay there. She looked back at the spot she use to be at and went back. She just couldn't herself to look him straight in the eye or tell him. Why? That eye was filed with all the regrets she had.
"I cheated on you." She told him, slightly eyeing his face. She looked away when she saw the anger filed up in his eyes, the beautiful brown eyes she loved to look in, suddenly looked scary.
"Damn it Peyton, DAMN IT!" He yelled, she looked away at the picture in front of her 'People always leave'. Too true, too true.
"I know, your mom's death was hard, and your dad going missing. But, I've acted like a father, not a boyfriend. I'm the catching you when you do these horrible things. I don't want to have to be your father. And, I don't want to be your boyfriend either. Good bye."
She looked as his back, as he left the red colored bedroom. She analyzed everything. His perfect posture, his spiky brown hair. Everything about his was perfect. Yet, she wasn't. Not her hair, nothing about her was perfect. And that's what probably ended them. Perfection.
She fell over onto the bed, tears slowly falling.
"I just want to leave! I just want to get out of here!" She screamed into her pillow, tears freely wetting it.
She slowly looked up eyeing a picture frame, another picture of her and Jake, placed on her bed. And then the drugs place on top. She sat up, grabbing the drugs and looking at them, still crying. She ripped up the bag, the contents inside flying everywhere. She then grabbed the picture, with its little heart shaped frame. A gift from him. She looked at the frame one more time, and then to the picture. Throwing it.
"Goodbye." She yelled, hitting the pillow again, crying.
She hoped that one day it would all stop, the pain and anger. But, for right now, the someday seemed forever.
Broken. Broken was a word to describe a lot of things. Broken noses. Broken pictures. Broken glass. Brooke relationships. Broken Hearts. Broken.