Lucas

I didn't move. I didn't know how to. I just stood there in Brooke's new room, staring. I didn't know what to say or what to do. In fact, all I did know was that I had messed up royally.

I could hear Brooke's soft sobs from the back of the door. I could pretty much imagine her sitting there with her head between her knees and arms tightly clutching them waiting for someone to come in and swoop her off her feet to save her.

The boxes lay in my hand. I honestly didn't have the guts to open them. I could see the outside though. Brooke, being the creative girl she always had decorated them intricately. One box was pink with red and silver hearts and it had a picture of us kissing. The other box, well the other box was a simple white with beautiful blue and pink lettering which read the word 'baby'.

My Pretty Girl was still hurting, a whole lot.

Just holding the two boxes in my hand felt like a gargantuan weight in them. I couldn't take it! I dropped them to the floor, only to see the first box scatter its contents.

Letters.

Lots and lots of letters. What have you done to me, Brooke?

I could still hear the girl inside, her heart breaking a little bit more. But I needed to know. What was it that Brooke was thinking? What did Brooke go through? Why with her signature letters?

I sat on the floor and sifted through them randomly. There were more than hundreds of letters out there. I checked the dates and they were of the time Brooke was missing. The dates were chronological, one for each day.

'Hey Luke,

It's day 26 in this hell hole and I miss you! I miss you so bad. All they keep talking about is how we should love ourselves and be grateful for what we have. They are right, but what they don't get is that I lost everything that I had and I was grateful for. So what's the point? They expect me to talk or to breakdown and spill my heart's contents, but its all caged Luke. Caged and locked up and only you have the key. They think we are objects here who can't hear. I hear them pass comments about how I'm emotionless and all I do is walk around like a zombie. Rachel thinks otherwise. She is the only sweet one around and honestly the most misjudged. Maybe that's why we get along so well. She is the only one who knows snippets about what actually went down. The rest think that I was just a bored teenager who had nothing better to do, so I started doing drugs and 'accidentally' almost ended my life. People can be so stupid sometimes that they don't see what is staring at them in the face.

But I am no exception to this law. I still dearly am holding on to the hope that you will come and break me out of this jail cell. I sometimes imagine it. You climbing up to my window like you used to do at my house back in Tree Hill and getting me out of there. I miss being the girl behind the red door. But that only worked out for Rupanzel I guess.

Bye Lukie. See you again tomorrow. I still love you.

Yours,

Pretty Girl.'

"Brooke!" I banged at her door. "Please come out."

"Theres nothing left Lucas. Nothing left that will come out." She sounded so broken and so tired. A chill raced down my spine as a million dark thoughts haunted my mind. I was scared at what she would do. She shouldn't be living alone. Stupid Clay to expect her to be completely fine to live on her own after she almost took her life once.

"Brooke! Move away from the door. I'm coming in!" I yelled.

I quickly backed up and ran towards the door in full speed to break it off its hinges. It hurt like hell but the door was off.

There she was, lying with a blade in her hand as she was staring at her wrist which still only had a tiny cut. Her hair was a matted mess of sweat and tears. But it didn't matter. She looked up at me guiltily and stretched her arm out as she realised what she had just done.

I rushed to her and bundled her up in my lap.

"Shh Brooke. Its okay. Its alright. This is just a tiny cut. It was just a slip, not a fall. You aren't going to fall back to those old ways. I promise. I promise Brooke, you have come a long way and this little slip isn't the cliff on the mountain." I said. I knew exactly what she was thinking when she stretched her arm out. She had gone a year without self harm and that little cut scared her that she was going to fall back. But she wasn't. I wasn't going to let her.