A/N – I know it sucks but like I said I have no idea where I'm going with this....

Alison's POV

April 18, Friday

I was standing in front of my new home, with the keys in my hands and tears in my eyes.

I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to be alive, maybe. Maybe there was a terrible mistake and it lead to my father's death, but back to reality...I was suffering more now than ever.

It wasn't a large house. Good. I hated large. It was just the right size for one rejected girl to live in. The windows were long and wide, giving the house an alienish look. I wanted to scream and run towards the house breaking every window, every fragile thing in the house, pounding my fists into everything until I was dying in my pain...or pleasure.

I closed my eyes, and felt a lonely single tear slide of the side of my cheek. It hurt. It hurt to know that he made everything just the way I would like things, as long as I didn't come back. I didn't have a choice now. I couldn't go back. I didn't have anywhere to go, anywhere I was wanted for sure. Unwanted people like me, were unwanted for a reason, even when these people sometimes don't see it, there's always a reason...

It was like I was a curse to my family. I first killed my mother, and now my father. My mother died giving birth to me, and there was no excuse there, it was my fault. My father died driving me to stupid New York. He didn't want to go, it was like he felt something was going to happen but since I was me, and was so used to getting things I wanted, I begged... Finally I don't get something I want, finally Evan forces something that I should but don't want down my throat. Serves me right. I was killing my own family.

Maybe Evan was scared that he was next to go, because it really seemed that it could happen, that's why I agreed to go. I also agreed because I didn't have the power to say no. I was weak.

I opened my eyes and took a step towards the house. I slowly edged forward, counting the steps I took and wishing more than anything I could turn around and go home.
I stared at the dark wood door and with a shaky hand unlocked it.

I opened it and took a step in, but didn't move anymore.

I was in the living room. Well, as far as I could see the hall, the kitchen and the living room were all connected together, with rows of diamond shaped tiles. The room looked dead to me, just like everything else for the past 2 weeks. The curtains were closed and very little light got through, but I could still see...

The walls were all different shades of brown, and the tiles a dirty looking blue and grey. The kitchen looked friendly enough, with a dark wood island connected with a kitchen counter, and cream leather chairs, but the hall was too cold. Only an ancient looking cupboard stood on the side wall, leaving enough space to put another three beside it. The sitting room was decorated with a leather white couch and glass table. A flat screen TV stood in the corner along with a DVD player...

I dropped my bag and without looking back I went upstairs. The stairs creaked as I put my foot down on each one, and listening to the sound seemed to make me cry harder. It reminded me of my pain, but didn't everything?

Three doors hugged the walls in the corridor. I guessed which ones were the bedrooms and which was the bathroom but I mixed them all up completely, referring to the bathroom as the main bedroom and visa versa.

The main bedroom was a nicely lit room, with three white walls and one bright red. A light wood double bed was against one of the white walls with the window to the east of it. There were two bedside tables on either side, accompanied with night lamps. A large mirror hung on the red wall, making the room look bigger than it really was, but I didn't mind too much. A walk in closet was to the right when you first walk in the room, with a sliding mirror for a door.

I finished my tour of the house there, it didn't interest me too much to want to go see the rest of it.

I sat down on the wide window sill, bringing my knees up to my chest, and hugging them tightly. I finally had some privacy and I wasn't strong enough anymore to keep my tears in. I let them out, let them pour down my cheeks like a violent rain storm, making my eyes sore and my breathing hard.

I was scared of being alone, and I knew it too well. I knew it all my life that this day, where I sit crying by my window wondering why I was alone, would come. And it did. The reason why I was alone was cuz I was a murderer. Nothing but a cruel murderer. I was searching for a title for myself and I finally stumbled across it, but it didn't please me enough to stop crying. Murderer. Alison Pane The Murderer. I never had a nickname before, but I wasn't about to go spread this around school.

School. In only a couple of days I was going to school, where no one knew me or my life. Where people would be staring at me, trying to guess my last and next move, trying to see my past, ask me question that more than likely I will avoid. I would be tagged straight away. Freak. A weird girl, who doesn't talk to anyone, who avoids people, who is a murderer... They won't know that. I'm sure that Evan didn't just come out and say why I was getting send here in April. He might have mentioned our dad's death, but nothing about me causing it. I doubt that they would have let a girl who killed her father into their school.

The sun came out from its hiding place behind the clouds and shone right at me. I winced at the bright light and quickly stood up of the window sill. I backed away from the light and ran out of the room. For some reason I didn't like it, I wanted rain, I never did but I did now. Rain made me happier. If I was sad, why should the rest of the neighbourhood be happy? If it rained there was more possibility other people would be sad too. The problem was I had much bigger things to be sad about besides rain which wasn't even there.

I sat down on the top of the stairs, and rested my head against the cold wall. With a sigh, my thoughts went back to the possibilities of my first day in an LA school.

I could get beaten up...I could get laughed at...or I could just make friends. Not that it seemed likely someone wanting to be friends with me. The way I looked when I saw myself in the mirror scared me, what about other people? My wavy blond hair, tangled up and not washed for about a week giving me a very...sad look. My brown eyes wild and tired and of course red from crying and under my eyes, dark purple circles were decorating my face. Horrid is what I looked like. Like a...murderer. I wasn't going to show up in school like this, I didn't need more worries and problems on my shoulders besides the fact that I'm a murderer.

A murderer was going to high school...

I know, I know it was terrible and short, but I keep on saying this buts its true it is very hard to write this story, cuz nothing happens Alison and Shane just talk about their feelings...please help me by telling ur ideas and stuff...maybe how u would feel if you were in Alison's shoes, cuz Shane part of the story is a little bit more easy cuz there's Kristen, Nate and Kevin to talk about....

R&R please....