Well, here's a little one shot. It's one way things could have gone after "Abandoned" if that one guest who commented on "Kiss Me" had gotten their way. I'm also not going to mimic Mammy's speech patterns because I simply cannot. It's not necessarily the best thing I've ever written or read, but I like to think it captures emptiness at least decently since that's what I'm feeling. It is a little off from the original Scarlett, but I aim to please and express some of my own issues. I'm just a wreck, honestly. Please excuse any errors, I'm not doing my usual grammar nitpick because I think I'll just end up despising this.

Scarlett awoke in her bed only a few hours later. Sleeping in had always been the favored option, but she couldn't stand staying in bed to think for any other minute.

If she stayed, she would cry. And she despised crying.

Mammy had her dressed and downstairs in record time, grumbling about how she needed to see to the pastries that Rhett had promised the children. And so Scarlett walked downstairs to find the rest of the family, engaged in a friendly conversation, sitting around the massive wooden table.

The second she walked in, they all quieted.

Rhett was the first to recover, but that was expected. "I never thought we'd see you up at this early hour, Mrs. Butler. Did you need something?"

"No, I'm fine."

His brow creased at her bland and uninformative response, but he picked the previous conversation back up.

"No, Bonnie, I haven't had a birthday celebration in years. Adults are usually too busy to have those, but I'll make an exception since you want to throw me one." He lowered his voice conspiritally and whispered, "and you three will have an excuse for extra sweets."

He was having a birthday party? Well, that wasn't too odd. Rhett would do anything that the children wanted.

She hadn't had a birthday party since she was a child. No one had made the slightest effort since Ellen had died…

"Alright, I'll come to the garden at one and not a minute earlier. I won't peak at your plans, but I'm sure it'll be delightful."

They all knew she'd usually still be at the mills around one. But of course she wasn't invited. Why would they want her ruining their celebration?

None of them had ever really enjoyed her company… maybe she'd be better off at Melly's that afternoon. Her buggy was still broken and there was no way she would ask Rhett for another ride to the store or the mills. Melly was just close enough to walk to and she'd never turned Scarlett down before.

When she looked up again, the children and Rhett had all disappeared. Leaving her alone yet again. It was turning into a very painful trend.

Scarlett arrived at Melanie's house just after the beginning of appropriate visiting hours.

Melanie appeared in the doorway, her latest sewing project still in hand. There was considerable chatter coming from the sitting room. She obviously had company.

"Oh, Scarlett, dear. How nice of you to stop by, I was just having some of our friends over."

Scarlett was painfully aware that they were not her friends. It seemed no one really was.

"Don't worry, Melanie, I was just stopping by to give you a message for Ashley. I won't make it to the mills for the next few days. My buggy's broken and Rhett is busy," she said coldly.

She was such a fool to think that Melanie would be her ally. No. Though plain, she had always had friends. She didn't need Scarlett, and it was clear that Melanie was finally coming to that realization herself.

"Wait, Scarlett." As odd as it seemed, hearing her own name from Scarlett's mouth sounded unnatural. She never called her by her Christian name: it was always Melly. Something was very obviously wrong. The bitterness marring her best friend's face was something she was unfamiliar with. Although Melanie had always seen her pain, Scarlett seldom showed any weakness, physical or mental. "I'm a tad occupied at the moment, but would you like a refreshment?"

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Why, think nothing of it, darling. Why don't you come in and I'll…"

"That's alright. I'll see you another day, Melanie."

"Well… alright, Scarlett. Take care."

Scarlett trudged home through the heat, doing her best to ignore the pinching of her corset and how she was able to draw in less and less air.

Stepping into the house was a momentary relief, but it was short lived.

"Miss Scarlett," Mammy began, barreling towards her, "where have you been? And I just know you forgot that shawl of yours. I don't have the time to deal with it today. We're all busy setting up the party, you best stay out of the way. And don't you ruin it either. I don't need you turning it bitter."

It seemed everyone had turned against her.

Her own husband and children preferred to pretend she didn't exist. Melly would much rather spend time with the ladies of Atlanta. And even Mammy, practically her second mother, would rather she just disappear. After all, she might ruin Rhett's party. Never mind that he was almost always to blame for her temper.

Would they all rather that she vanish? They would no longer have to keep up pretenses. They didn't want to see her anyway. No one did.

She was lower and more worthless than the prostitutes out on the street or the crippled individuals that society deemed invisible.

What was worse was that she could barely summon the feelings of betrayal and despair she knew went alongside such a revelation.

Mammy had disappeared by the time Scarlett had broken away from her thoughts.

Alone. Alone in ways she'd never felt before. No one who loved her, no one who cared. There was always a catch. She had a husband, children, a woman she could call a friend, and lifelong caretaker, and yet she had nothing. What did any of it matter if they could dismiss her so easily? What was the point of staying around when she would soon fade anyway?

She found herself in her room, on the balcony. She could see the party's location. They were pretty close to the house. Scarlett looked down. The walls of the house were extremely tall, meant to tower over Atlanta. The second story drop was nothing to laugh at…

And then she caught sight of the stables. Scarlett needed to take her mind off of things. Pa had always loved riding and she had enjoyed it as a child, so that seemed good enough for the moment.

She didn't bother throwing on a riding habit. It would take too much effort and she might have to ask for help. The last thing Scarlett wanted was a retightening of her corset and a lecture on why real ladies shouldn't riding alone or how Mammy had better things to do. For example, the snacks requested by the children.

Sneaking through the halls seemed a little silly. It was her house, after all. Still, she didn't want to run into anyone. If she just kept to the shadows…

"Scarlett?"

Damn. Discovered by the last person she wanted to talk to. Why did he always deign to talk to her when she wanted to escape?

Mask firmly in place, he raised a single eyebrow. "You're not at the mills? How unusual for you, my lumber enthusiast. Of course, we all know that's not why you go there."

So today was a jeering sort of day. Their conversations had become almost exclusively that, so it wasn't surprising.

"My buggy's broken."

"Then where did you go earlier?"

"Melanie's."

The corner of his lips tugged down. "How unforeseeable indeed. But you're back rather early. I hope it's not… er… the party I mentioned earlier was just going to be between the children and myself. Maybe it's better if…"

"I get it."

Her apathy and neglect of his verbal challenge were startling. He associated many things with Scarlett, but never this blank countenance. Something about it screamed danger, but he chose to ignore it for the moment.

Instead, he watched her slowly trudge towards the kitchen. It was very out of character, but he wasn't willing to call her out and risk her tagging along to the party out of spite.

Rhett left just as she passed through the doorway; the clock had struck one and he had a party to get to. He could deal with his wife later.

Scarlett slipped past the couple of servants cleaning up and carrying the trays of treats outside. There was a door that led from the kitchen to the backyard. It was considerably closer to the stables compared to the more intricate and beautiful door that the residents of the house more frequently used.

Luckily Mammy was halfway to the party set up and wouldn't bother Scarlett about whatever reckless thing she might be about to do.

The stable boys didn't say anything when the formidable Mrs. Butler swept through the stables and led her favored horse outside. It was pretty odd, but no one was willing to risk upsetting the capricious woman.

Scarlett pulled herself into the saddle and took off.

She galloped across the expansive estate — as far away as she could from the others. Her hair flowed behind her as she raced forward, trying her best to run from all the issues in her life. But the wind failed to give her the thrill it used to. Jumping was not even the slightest bit exciting. Gerald would have been appalled, but she couldn't do a thing.

The emptiness that had overcome her soul the day before refused to allow her any sort of rest. The terrible void stole over her heart, consuming the turbulent emotions she had been almost famed for.

What was the meaning of it all? There really was no one left who care about her. Not her childhood nurse, her friend, her husband, nor her children.

There was nothing in her life that made it worth living. Not love, not friendship, and certainly not the iron will and feelings that had pulled her through her toughest times. She'd been fighting for survival then, as she always was. But after a time, fighting gets too tiring. It becomes too difficult to charge back into battle day after day with nothing gained.

And now, when it seemed all emotion was absent from her life, no matter how she wished to feel it, the load had simply become too much.

If only she could let go of everything, allow her worries to slip away. Let happiness color her life again. But letting go of responsibility would make it all completely worthless. There was no way to win.

Scarlett hardly paid attention to her surroundings. It was too laborious when she barely had the energy to cling to the horse and dig her heels into his sides.

She didn't notice the fence ahead of her, marking the edge of her property. She's already slipped into the dark recesses of her mind, where she was cut off from the rest of the world.

And then she was falling, plummeting towards the solid ground. Everything went black.

"I wanna play hide and seek," Bonnie declared, pouting at how the events of their small celebration had been more up Wade's alley.

She was the best at hide and seek. At least, that's what the others let her believe.

"Of course, my darling. I'll be the seeker first."

Rhett dramatically covered his eyes with his hand and began counting down.

The children all scrambled to find a hiding place. Bonnie and Wade both sprinted closer to the house and more familiar territory, but Ella had another idea. Uncle Rhett usually found her first, and she wanted to at least come in second. So instead of taking the most traveled path, she sprinted away from the house.

At six years old, she could cover ground relatively well. She'd made it to the fence before the hundred seconds were even up.

A little farther away, a horse neighed.

Turning her attention to the terrifying noise, Ella noticed something odd. A portion of the fence had been broken and something lay near it. She couldn't quite make it out at first. It seemed like a large pile of fabrics. But as she drew closer and closer, she noticed something.

It wasn't just fabric. It was a person. It was a woman. It was her mother.

The reality of the situation didn't hit her at first. Why would her mother be lying out here? But when Ella grasped her hand, Scarlett didn't move.

Something was very wrong.

Rhett had already found Bonnie and Wade when he heard Ella shriek.

He reasoned that she'd probably run into a bee. The girl was awfully afraid of anything alive, and the scream had certainly come from outside.

The trio made their way quickly to the source, amused that Ella's fear of bugs had given her away.

The smiles vanished when they found her.

She was sitting by her mother, sobbing hysterically.

That couldn't be right. Scarlett was inside. She was perfectly fine.

But there was no denying the scene before him. He could tell by the fence and distant sounds of a horse what had most likely happened, but the thought stunned him. When Bonnie tried to approach the lifeless form on the ground, Rhett broke from the spell and sprung into action.

This was wrong, so incredibly wrong. He wasn't supposed to be gathering her limp form. He shouldn't have to sprint back to the house, cradling a body as close as he could. The children weren't meant to be trailing after him, reduced to tearful messes.

How could someone so full of life just be gone?

Of course, the irony of such a thought escaped him.