Another week and a half had gone by. Brooke sat in her bed, as she now did most days. She had been woken up an hour ago by a phone call from the police, saying they had found a letter from Peyton-a suicide note. Not leaving her bed was the plan for the day...for the week. Brooke just couldn't fathom the idea that Peyton had really gone off to die. All because of her. Her thoughts were halted by a knock at her front door, which she had ignored-it couldn't have been that important after all. The visitor knocked again, this time causing Brooke to stand up and walk to her front door quietly just to see who it was. And it was no surprise when she saw the dirty blonde-haired boy with his wife. Brooke rolled her eyes and quickly fixed her hair with her fingers before pulling the door open.
"Hey, we heard the news. We wanted to drop by and see how you were doing...and give you these," Lucas held out a bouquet of roses.
Brooke felt like cringing at how Lucas said "we". She weakly smiled and took the flowers, "thanks..."
"Brooke, you know if you need anything-even if you need to talk, I'm here for you." Lindsey smiled.
Brooke nodded, hiding that she was annoyed. "I hate to have you guys leave," she lied, "but I was working on some designs"
"You're fine." Lucas interrupted. "We'll see you soon alright?"
Ian walked into the room with a tray as he did daily. He sat in the chair beside Peyton and smiled with the tray in his lap. Peyton eyed the bowl, still not knowing what was in it. But at this point, she was so hungry that she'd eat anything. She watched as the spoon neared her mouth, and clenched her eyes shut as it went into her mouth.
"Can't I feed myself?" She asked, her face clearly displaying her hatred toward the food.
"I'm afraid not...you might try to get out. And we can't have that." Ian said, not making eye contact with her. "Besides, I enjoy taking care of you."
Peyton sighed, "I just want to do things on my own, Ian. I'm perfectly capable of doing so if you'd just untie my hands!"
Ian stood from the chair, "you want to raise your voice at me?" He stared at the girl, waiting for a response. "That's what I thought." Before he sat back down, he smacked Peyton's face with the back of his hand, causing her lip to bleed. "There goes your food for the day."
Brooke sat at her kitchen counter on a stool, sketching away. She lied before about the designs, but suddenly got the urge to do so. She finished sketching one design and admired her work, before realizing what she had done. She had just drawn an outfit Peyton wore once-it was Brooke's favorite. She had always wished Peyton would wear it again, but she never did.
The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown away as Brooke walked through the kitchen, and stood before the small hallway. She looked into the bathroom, remembering the sight of Peyton on the floor. The brunette then turned her head to the right, and as she peered into Peyton's old bedroom her heart wrenched knowing that the blonde wasn't returning. She slowly walked inside-the room smelled of the perfume Peyton had always worn. She smiled as she walkd further in, seeing the art supplies scattered around the room, the record player that was stopped by Brooke that night. Brooke walked over, and started the record-only to find that Love Song by The Cure played. Tears formed in her eyes as she listened to the lyrics.
However far away, I will always love you.
However long I stay, I will always love you.
Whatever words I say, I will always love you.
I will always love you.
As the song played on, Brooke realized these lyrics were written on the note Peyton had left that night on the back of her sketch. She stopped the music, as she couldn't take it anymore. She kicked the dresser that the record player was on, then opened the drawers and threw the blonde's clothes all around. All the while, yelling about how stupid Peyton had been.
Brooke's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her cell phone ringing. She looked around, realizing she was laying on Peyton's bed, and that the room was trashed. She rubbed her eyes as she stood and walked into the kitchen before picking up the phone.
"Hello?" Her tired voice answered.
"Hello, Ms. Davis? It's detective Morello. I wanted to speak with you about our findings from earlier-but if you're busy we can plan to do so some other time."
She thought for a moment as she glanced at the clock that hung in her kitchen. Before she could respond, she heard the voice on the other end begin speaking again.
"I know it's late now, but I'm free to stay if you'd like."
"I'll be right there."
So...yeah...another short and boring chapter...I'M SORRY OKAY! I had the rest typed up in another document saved on my computer, but I guess I forgot to save. At least I updated it. Thanks as usual!
