I am completely and utterly amazed by the response this story has gotten.

Really, truly.

Thanks for the reviews!

With each thundering footstep against the chilled pavement of the sidewalk, her fingernails dug deeper into her palms. She clenched her fists tighter with every stiff step across the street, onto the next block. Out of anger, frustration, melancholy, and somehow...

Relief.

Somehow, she was able to project herself forward into the night without doubts. Somehow she was able to keep her shoulders relaxed and breathe evenly, despite the tangled emotions coursing through her. What to choose? What to feel? Though she was torn in a million different directions, what remained was the fact that she was subconsciously free. And she liked it.

She instantly began making plans for herself. First, she would pack her clothes, every shirt, sock, and pair of underwear, leaving nothing but her scent of lavender and mischief. Then, she would find a friend to crash with, someone reliable, someone that would understand what she was going through. And from there, she would gradually stand on her own two feet, without Troy...

She would finally be out of his hair, if he really didn't love her.

But for that one moment, before she planned her entire future, she just wanted to get the task of finding Mrs. Smith's dog out of the way. Sharpay sighed and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, the cold evening shimmying between her arms and her torso. She proceeded to another empty street, small houses displayed at the horizon. Each window held a warm, welcoming glow in the cold wintery night, reminding Sharpay of the warmth of her own home...

That wasn't her home anymore.

The street was utterly silent, completely peaceful. And the sight of a tiny bundle of fur placed in the middle of the road made Sharpay sigh softly as she came closer. "C'mere, you." Sharpay gave a soft smile to the tiny dog that had wandered into the middle of the street. She scooped up the puppy and held it tight against her body, examining its dog tag closely.

The small brown-and-black Yorkie that tucked its nose into her arms was most definitely Mrs. Smith's, but the question was how was she going to be able to return such a cute dog? She smiled to herself, forgetting about her at-home drama just for the moment, and kissed the top of the puppy's head.

And she never saw the blinding white headlights until they were up close and personal...

An indescribable feeling overtook her abdomen as an anonymous force drove her to the ground. Pain spiking her every nerve, panic striking quickly in her mind. Rapidly, forcefully, she drew in breath, attempting to maintain consciousness. The Yorkie was no longer in her arms and she desperately grasped the pavement. She had to hold on to the night. Hold on to existence. But she was quickly slipping, sliding into a realm that was new to her.

Sharpay took in one last sharp gasp and let out one cry of anguish as screams ensued next. That same night sky that was once welcoming and adventurous was now her last glimpse of this world. And the last person she ever wanted to talk to came to mind.

Troy.

She suddenly remembered her husband, their fights, their cries, their overall issues. And as Sharpay's life came to a close, he was the one image she couldn't get out of her mind.

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His eyes flew open in the darkness, an uneasy feeeling settling in his stomach. He rolled over, facing the wide-faced moon outside of his window, and for the first time since his slumber, he thought about her.

Sharpay.

Her ring was still alone on the bedroom floor, symbolizing lost memories, and their very forgotten love. That same feeling of hesitance and insecurity grew. Where was she? Why hadn't she come home yet? Maybe they could talk it out, mend things once again...

That telephone ringing drew him from his thoughts once more. That same shrill ringing that had had a part in fate itself pulled him out of bed and made him stagger down the hallway as the phone continued to ring. And just as he was about to pick up the phone, it was delivered to voice mail. A shocking, confusing message bleated through the phone's answering machine:

"Hello? Please... if somebody's there..." A trembling, sobbing voice sounded. "A...a... Mr. Bolton? Please... I'm begging you... pick up." Troy was frozen, not only by the fear that sounded in the woman's voice, but the by the sound of sirens overpowering her cries.

Troy could only draw one word from his lips. "What?"

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed on the other end.

"Well, I'm so sorry that I'm not what you're looking for in a wife!"

"I... I didn't see her, and she was... please! Pick up the phone!"

"I'm sorry that I'm not perfect."

"Mr. Bolton... whoever's there... I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry..." Hysterical cries, shouts, orders flooded into Troy's ears as his life played in slow motion.

"And I'm so sorry that you don't love me anymore!"

"She was just standing there and... I didn't mean to... I... please..."

A profound haunting beep completed the message. Troy reached to the phone with a trembling hand, his heart caught in his throat, pounding into his mind, his very thoughts.

Sharpay's cell phone number was displayed on the screen. He instantly remembered his empty bed, the quiet house. She was out there somewhere, and things weren't right. Sharpay was the reason of his uncomfort.

In fact, she always seemed to be.

And from there, fate had finally accomplished its misson, tearing, hacking, slashing his world into a million pieces.

Like I said.

Hardcore.

Except, I'm not sure if the last part made any sense. Those italicised phrases were lines from the previous chapter, and Troy was supposed to be having multiple flashbacks in those moments.

You know, if it didn't make any sense to you.

Review!