A/N:New chapter again :) This one is, once again, all in Mitchie's POV... and it introduces a new character... Seth :) Tell me what you guys think of him after you read the chapter, I'm interested to hear your ideas/thoughts about him ;) Also next chapter we'll find out if Shane's okay, and maybe a little more about Seth... ;) Anyways, review please, and enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock, Jonas, Demi, or anything. I think I might own Seth though :):)

Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have
Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back
And never moving forward so there'd never be a past

[Mitchie's POV]

I've always been told that dreams can't hurt you, because they aren't real. However, I without a doubt believe that whoever came up with that statement, was dead wrong. Dreams are certainly real enough, and they can cut deep within the heart, leaving open wounds that can never fully be healed. So, to whoever said it first, they're freaking wrong.

I flinched, struggling to resist my dark memories, but they refused to back away, nagging at me until I gave in to their strong pull. I couldn't keep pushing them away, I was so very tired...

The scene in front of me was a horrible, terrible one that would make any normal human being cry out in terror and sorrow, with the overhead lighting and rain only adding to the darkness of the moment. I heard screaming, and with a start, I realized the noise was coming from myself. I wanted to cover my eyes, to run away from the horrible picture in front of my eyes, but it felt as if my feet had been bolted to the ground. I couldn't budge, as much as my heart ached to cry out and run towards the scene, or as much as I wanted to turn and flee, and pray this was all just a dream.

Voices, muffled voices, were looming above me, although I couldn't make out what they were saying because the rain garbled any words coming out of their mouths. I screamed again, consumed with pain and fear, and struggling to move.

A sweat broke out on my forehead as I attempted to escape from what I knew was coming, to stop it. I needed to stop the memories, to stop this horrible pain I felt inside. I needed to wake up.

The memories/dream refused to allow me too, instead pulling me deeper into their grasp.

Something wet and sticky was trailing from my forehead, but I couldn't even move my hand to find out what it was. I couldn't see anything, couldn't move. I couldn't move... it was then I realized that I couldn't feel my legs. It was as if they had simply disappeared from my nerve system, and with a gripping fear, I cried out again, my heart pounding in my chest so loudly I was sure everyone else must be able to hear it, even above the rain pouring down above us.

I screamed. I had to get out, now, I had to get away from these horrible memories. I had to escape from them now. I couldn't help myself from screaming again. Please, someone, help me escape...

Suddenly, there was light, and I blinked in confusion as I finally saw my was loose pieces of metal and other unidentifiable things, and a large smashed piece of something lying in the road a few feet away. With a start, I realized it was a part of a car... our car, to be more exact. Before I had time to react, two pairs of strong hands reached in and delicately pulled me out of what I now saw was another part of the car, before putting me on a stretcher. It took me a second, as I surveyed the bloody scene, but I saw that our car had been cut straight in half. It was then I saw.

NO, my brain screamed, and I kicked out, wishing there was some way to break myself away from this nightmare, before I realized I was trapped. There was no way around it- whether or not, I was going to finish reliving the moments of that day. It wasn't going to release me, until I'd gone through every single horror moment from that cursed day. I could feel tears streaming down my face, and the burning pain inside of me.

It was her.

No, please, no...

I wanted to close my eyes, to turn my head away from the deathly scene, but I couldn't move. It was her... Mom...

I screamed again, desperate to get away from the scene I knew was coming next.

There was blood, lots of it, and...

Something cut me off abruptly, a hard shake on the shoulders, and the pain coming from my injured shoulder was enough to wake me from my dream. A dream, that's all it had been... a dream, a memory, from that doomed day. The day my life ended.

"Hey!" A voice called out to me, still shaking me, and I wanted to push the person's hand off of me, but I didn't have the strength. Still gasping, my fingers clasped into fists, I couldn't help my terrified crying."Wake up, Mitchie. It's time to wake up now..." I paused, my heart jumping to my throat. I stopped struggling, and now attempted to force my eyes open.

"Shane...?" I asked, my voice hardly above a whisper, and I finally managed to force my eyes to work. My disappointment flared down, however, when I saw that it wasn't Shane. Immediately, the pain and sorrow came back, filling me once again, and I regarded the boy in front of me half curiously. Did I know him from somewhere?

His hair was shaggy blond, cut choppily, and his expression was one of concern. His hands retracted, and I realized he was the one who had been shaking me, and telling me to wake up. I flinched, drawing away from him, but he only tilted his head, regarding me with curiosity. Although he still looked worried, his stare was what caught my attention. He had bright blue eyes, beautiful blue eyes. I frowned, wondering why he was here, when he spoke.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and I hesitated, my hand unconsciously gripping the side of the bed tighter. My heart still pounding, the graphic images still flooding through my head. I nodded slightly, although I was far from okay. The boy stared at me, and I felt my heart jump. It was as if he was looking straight through me.

"Why do you lie?" He asked instead, and my eyes widened. He didn't appear to seem surprised by my lack of reaction, only amused, and slowly sat down in the empty chair beside me, where my father had been sitting previously.

My dad... he wasn't here. He'd left, gone home, probably. Somehow, this made me feel as if I'd lost another piece of myself. However, I decided that for now, it would be best if I focused on the boy in front of me.

"Because... because I'm afraid." I whispered, ducking my head so the boy couldn't see my tears. I didn't want him to see me crying, I didn't want to break down in front of this stranger. What he did next, however, surprised me.

He stepped forwards, and I flinched, wondering what he was going to do, when I felt something wrap around me, tightening and comforting, and I realized he was hugging me. Instantly, I felt a sort of peace come over me, and as he reached over to wipe away my tears with his finger, I smiled at him gratefully.

"It was you." It really wasn't a question, and the boy didn't respond, because he knew that I already knew the answer to my question-that-wasn't-a-question. I knew, without a doubt, this was the boy who had touched my shoulder when I was lying on the ground, half-dead, right after the car crash.

The boy nodded at me, as if to completely confirm what I already knew, and I frowned, wondering why. Why he had even decided to comfort me in the first place, why I had felt so serene when he touched me, and why... why he was here, sitting next to me, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn't even know his name.

"What's your name?" Why not start with that question, at least, since the boy had failed to give any indication of what he might be called, and the fact I was getting rather sick of just referring to him as 'the boy'. He smiled, the first real expression I'd seen on his face (minus the concern earlier, of course), and I couldn't help but return the gentle grin.

"Seth." He replied briefly, nodding his head, as if he was clarifying this fact. "My name is Seth."

"Seth," I repeated, allowing the name to run through my mind a few times. "Well, Seth, it's nice to meet you- my name is Mitchie." I reached over with my uninjured arm and shook his hand, smiling back at him as I did so. He hesitated, then after a second, took my hand in his own slender one and returned the shake gently.

"So, Seth, " I settled back against my pillows once more, trying to focus on the boy in front of me and ignore the nightmare I'd had, because I didn't want to remember everything that had happened. Then I realized that Seth had awakened me just in time- right before the worst was to come. He'd saved me, once again.

I know it sounded silly- to believe that Seth had saved me twice, just from a single touch, but I knew in my heart it was true. There was something special about his soft hands, and I knew that just by a single grasp, he could probably do much more. Maybe he'd saved others lives before as well. Maybe... there was so many maybes in my life, that I really didn't know what to do with them all anymore. Maybe I should just stop imagining the if's and but's about my life, and focus on the solid facts. Somehow, though, I doubted I could really do that. I always was a dreamer. Such a fact simply couldn't be changed.

"Mitchie?" I blinked, and glanced over to see Seth waiting. I raised my eyebrows at him, wondering what had caused him to break me out of my thoughts, and then I realized he had just done me a favor. I was always stuck in my own little world, my own thoughts, my own little twisted mind. I glanced down at my fingers, picking at the black nail polish that was beginning to chip, and waited for Seth to speak again. "Would you like to tell me what your nightmare was about?" He asked instead, and I froze. I really wasn't sure why he asked, because I had a feeling that he already knew what the answer would be.

I closed my eyes, leveling out my breathing, as all those wicked, tormenting memories came flooding back- some of which I'd dreamed of, and some of which I'd pushed to the back of my mind for a long, long time. Things that shouldn't be remembered.

"I... I..." My voice cracked, and I did all I could to told back any oncoming tears, but failed. Seth regarded me with a strange emotion on his face, before he leaned forwards again.

"You know, Mitchie," He whispered, his hand on my cheek as he raised my head so I had no choice but meet his own unwavering gaze, "It's okay to cry when you loose someone."

So, he already knew then. I had suspected as much, at least, but still his words cut through me. It's okay to cry when you loose someone. For some reason, I'd always been the one who had believed that it was wrong to show emotion- it was wrong to cry in front of others, it was wrong to place everything you'd been carrying on them. But something in Seth's tone convinced me it was okay.

I leaned forwards, grabbing onto Seth, who stiffened for a few seconds until he realized what I was trying to do, and then leaned into my grasp, wrapping his arms around me while I clung to him for dear life, unable to stop the tears pouring down my cheeks, or slow them. I didn't even try, because I knew I would fail.

I cried for the accident- for my dead mother, for the father I thought I had lost. I cried for Aunt Clara, for all the onlookers, for Shane, who didn't even know anything had happened yet. I cried for all my family, who had to put up with me when I was going through my darkest days. And mostly, I cried for myself. For the pain that would never go away, for all the horrors I'd had to see in my short lifetime, for everything I had been more, for being selfish. I cried for everything. And the entire time, Seth held me, his light touch never wavering, but simply hanging onto me, as if he knew this was what I needed. I needed to cry.

I cried for everything we'd never get back again.