AUTHOR'S NOTE: Pictures added on my homepage here from the 4th annual James Lafferty charity game

Death. It was such a dreary subject. So dark. So permanent. But what was it really? The end of a life? Cessation of brain and heart activity? And why were people so afraid of it, afraid of the unknown? Was it like the Bible said? If you're good then you go the garden of many colors and the streets of gold in Heaven and if you're bad then you get to rot for eternity in the fiery pits of Hell. Death. Whatever it was, whatever it meant, the subject had certainly been on Peyton Sawyer's mind.

She was already more than familiar with it. In nine years, it had claimed two mothers. Peyton closed her eyes. What must it have been like for Anna? Rushing to the elementary school to pick up Peyton. She ran a red light and just like that, in an instant, it was over. She had died days later in the local hospital due to the injuries she received on impact. She had drifted in and out of consciousness during those days but Peyton, too young to even comprehend the situation at the time, had always wondered what those final seconds were like in that car. Had it been quick? Did Anna even know what hit her? Or had she seen the truck barreling her way? In those few seconds, did time stand still? Was she afraid?

And Ellie. Free spirited Ellie. What was it like to be diagnosed with cancer in your early thirties? What kind of strength did it take to fight it and win? And what was it like when you were in remission for almost five years, coming so close to hitting that supposed "safe" mark, all to find not only another lump, but that the vicious beast had spread? Incurable. How do you feel when a doctor tells you that? What was going through Ellie's mind those last weeks when she and Peyton got to know each other while working on the charity CD? And what was going through her mind when she passed away all alone?

Death. So horrible. The one thing people feared the most. The thing people tried to avoid. The inevitable. It would finally be over. No matter Heaven, Hell, or just a long, peaceful sleep, Peyton had become resigned. She had thought about it over and over. She had battled a lot in her life. Losing Anna and Ellie, losing Jake and Jenny, her father being gone often, losing Brooke, dabbling with cocaine, being harassed at school, being shot at school. Her sad story never seemed to end. She thought she could make it through everything, through anything but Derek Helm had tested her in a way life hadn't. Physically, mentally, emotionally Peyton had been put through the ringer.

Physical pain was one thing. You could actually learn to control it. Peyton had to in order to survive the brutal beatings and rapes. But fear was something completely different. It could drive a sane person mad. The anxiety, the anticipation, the sick feeling of constantly being on edge every second was simply too much. She'd had enough. Peyton couldn't take it anymore if she tried. The pretty blonde who once had finally had so much to look forward to was now a distraught, broken shell of a human being. She didn't have an ounce of fight left. Derek had won. It was over. Death, whatever it was like, whatever it would bring had to be better than being held captive.

She sat up looking for something, for anything. The small space was so barren. Frantically searching, Peyton looked for a belt, a string to hang herself with. But there was nothing. She searched for a sharp object, a knife, an ink pen to slit her wrists. Again nothing. Putting her head in her hands, she wanted to cry but there were no tears left. Encased in a hysteria of depression, she hadn't been eating but starving herself was taking too long. Then she heard it.

It was a soft sizzling sound coming from near the bathroom. Peyton stumbled over to it. As she put her hands on the rusted handle she began to laugh, softly at first then downright hysterically. At least one prayer had been answered. It was an old propane water heater. With no ventilation, it was a perfect, painless plan. Using all her might Peyton struggled to turn it. Slowly it did, making more noise with each pull. When it would not go any further she stepped away. Within minutes, she began to feel groggy as she lay down to sleep for the final time…

"Brooke! Brooke! Over here!" the cute blonde ten year old child beckoned.

It was a hot summer day by the Tree Hill docks and Peyton Sawyer wanted nothing more than to ride bikes and play. As usual, her best friend had other ideas.

"P. Sawyer, I thought you'd never get here. Let's go shopping."

Mini Peyton frowned.

"But we went shopping yesterday. Didn't you spend all your allowance on clothes then?"

Little Brooke grinned.

"Daddy gave me some more", she said, pulling out her make up kit and applying eye shadow and gloss to her friend's face.

"But…"

"We'll play later. Come on. We can even go to that stupid record store and you can buy some of that loser rock you like so much."

Peyton couldn't help but smile. That changed everything.

"I'll race you", she yelled, hopping on her bike, Brooke hot on her tail.

Together the girls giggled and squealed even as they rode through the sprinklers. It was a happy time, a time of pure innocence…

Peyton's eyes tried to flutter open but the lids were too heavy.

"Brooke…" she called out in a whisper.

But no one answered as a single tear fell. Soon it would all be over. She'd be with her mothers again. Or she'd be in purgatory with her Dark Angel. Or she'd be asleep. Either way, Derek wouldn't be there and that was enough for Peyton. Her eyes closed again and she saw a vision of blonde hair and blue eyes. She couldn't help but smile.

"Good bye, Lucas…"

The blood dripped from Peyton's leg down to her Converse sneakers as beads of sweat trickled from her pale face. Lucas tried to hide his worry as he held her closer.

"I'm tired, Luke? Are you tired?"

"Yeah but you gotta stay awake", he spoke, watching with concern as she nodded a little too slowly. "Tell me about…tell me about a good day."

Peyton swallowed hard.

"We had a snow day…sixth grade. Do you remember? It was like this whole other world just came in overnight and took ours away. And Brooke, she came over. We made a snow fort…with a tunnel. And we stayed inside there all day…and it seemed so safe, like…everything was okay. Like everything our world was about to become, maybe we could just stop it. And stay little kids for one more day. But then it got cold…kinda like now. They're gonna come now."

"Who?"

Tears fell.

"All of them…the reporters and the psychologists and the analysts and the so called experts. And they're gonna try to make sense of this. But they're not gonna be able to. And even if we do make it outta here, we're always gonna carry it with us…it's never gonna be the same", she tried to breathe before looking up at him. "It's not glass is it? In my leg?"

Lucas felt his heart sank.

"No, it's a bullet", he answered truthfully. "Now I may have to get you out of here, okay? But nothing will happen to you. I promise."

And Lucas Scott never broke a promise. Everybody knew that.

"You're always saving me."

"Somebody's got to."

Peyton looked away.

"If I say…I love you, right now, will you hold it against me? Cause I've lost a lot of blood", they both smiled at each other. "Come here."

Lucas moved closer and she kissed him.

"Just in case you can't keep your promise…" she whispered.

"Peyton! Peyton! Wake up!"

She heard the frantic screams. They were high pitched yells but in her state they sounded more like far away whispers.

"Open your eyes, Peyton! Open your eyes!"

She tried but it was too hard.

"Oh God! What happened? What did you do?"

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. He…he was always saving her.

"Lucas…"

"I should have known!" a now angry voice spat.

It was not Lucas. Peyton's eyes opened even though she tried hard to keep them shut. He got up and turned off the propane before opening the door and dragging her outside. It was just before dusk and she noticed the sun setting before drifting off again. But he wouldn't let her. Peyton felt herself being shaken violently.

"Wake up, Peyton! I'm not fucking around with you!"

That's exactly what the fresh air was doing to her. It was waking her up.

"No", she pleaded.

Her head pounded and she felt slightly dizzy. The silent, odorless, colorless poison was slowly working its way though her system. It was causing fatigue, shortness of breath, hallucinations and everything else that was to occur before death. But Derek had gotten there in time.

"Open your eyes!" he commanded, roughly turning her to the side as he forced his dirty fingers down her throat.

She gagged and vomited, coughing as tears fell.

"That was a stupid move. Peyton, I swear you're really starting to piss me off. Thanks to that little stunt, now we're gonna have to sleep in the car tonight until this place airs out. Nice going. What the hell were you trying to do, kill yourself?"

Still groggy, still weak, still sick, Peyton gradually nodded.

"That's exactly what I was trying to do…get away, get from…you."

Derek only laughed as he lit a cigarette.

"You'll never get away from me, Peyton. We belong together. And am I gonna have to start tying you up when I'm gone? Huh? Try a trick like that again and I'll kill you myself."

Peyton cried as her eyes closed. She could only be so lucky.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dialogue from the second flashback sequence was taken from One Tree Hill, Episode 3-16, With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept written by Mark Schwahn