OVER 200 REVIEWS! WHEEE! I FEEL SO HONORED! THANK YOU SO MUCH! tear

Anyway, so sorry about not updating for a while (we went camping). So I beg of your forgiveness. I'll try not to let it happen again! (though, classes start soon again...)

About this Chapter: It sort of goes a little bit into Shaylee and her issues (she's strange most definitely). Wee.

Disclaimer: Aint mine. Oh no no no no it aint mine. (ha ha, like Chicago: but it aint, oh no nono no but it aint)

I Trust You- Chapter Seventeen

Shaylee stood up and excused herself.

"I should have gone home hours ago…Sorry Ryan, Sharpay. I'll come by later today" She smiled, then left the room. Shaylee stood behind the closed door for a minute, thinking about she'd heard earlier. Now, Shaylee never was nor ever will be an eavesdropper, and it wasn't that she was intending to. Shaylee closed her eyes and chewed on her lip thoughtfully. When she said she was going to find a doctor, she really wasn't, she was just giving them time alone together. She'd left the room and stood outside the door, thinking about what she could do to pass time when she overheard their conversation:

"Why is she here? You didn't tell her did you?"

"No Ryan. She just helped me with the ambulance and everything. It's getting bad Ryan. We can't keep this up forever."

"It's no big deal Shar, really. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, they had a dinner party to go to; he left when he was…done."

"Good. I would have killed myself if he did anything to you."

"Still Ryan, we can't go on with this-"

"It's ok Shar. It doesn't hurt. I'll be fine."

"Well, I'm going to go get a drink, I'll be right back."

Shaylee frowned, thinking about the conversation. She asked Ryan if his fall was an accident, and he had said it was, but still, Shaylee still didn't think it was true. It wasn't an accident. Someone hurt Ryan. On purpose. Shaylee bit her nails. She'd seen many children suffering from abuse, could the Evans be in such a situation?

But Ryan said it was an accident. Maybe it was. Shaylee sighed and stood up, brushing her pants. She left the hospital and made her way to her home. She had to stop numerous times: Albuquerque was still foreign to her and to be blunt, she felt quite lost. Finally, after an hour and a half, she arrived at her home. The first thing she noticed was that her parent's car wasn't there. She glanced at her watch, realizing that of course her father would be at work.

"Helloooo? Anyone home?" She opened the door and walked down the front hallway.

"Anyone home?" came her voice from her brother's room. She knocked on his door then went in. He was sitting in the middle of his room, doing his favorite pastime: sitting in the middle of a room doing absolutely nothing.

"Hi Dustin! Is mom home?"

"Mom home?" He replied, imitating her. Shaylee smiled. She'd learned that it was less frustrating to ask him yes or no questions. If he doesn't respond then it's a no.

"Is she in her room?"

"…"

"Is she in the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen?"

Shaylee patted him on the head then went to the kitchen.

"Oh Shaylee, I'm glad your home! I was worried. What happened?"

"My friend had an accident so I went with his sister to the hospital."

"What's this? You have a friend?" Shaylee turned to see her sister sitting on one of the chairs. As usual, she was completely decked out in black.

"Yes I do. Do you?"

"No thank God." Shaylee rolled her eyes then went upstairs to her room. She changed into more comfortable clothing; a loose-fitting shirt and shorts. She went to sit on her bed, but noticed a magazine placed on her pillow. She opened it and flipped through it; the only time her mother got a magazine was because one of Shaylee's photographs was in it. Shaylee stopped flipping through the pages, recognizing one of her pictures. Shaylee stared at it silently. It was an article about some war going on in some country. It was a picture Shaylee snapped of a little child, her body bloodied and mangled. Shaylee began to get that sick feeling again. She got it every time she saw something horrible. Her eyes filled with tears and she ripped the picture out of the magazine, throwing it across her room. She ran to a door to the left of her bed and flicked on a switch. There was a red eerie glow; it was her dark room, the place where she developed her pictures. Shaylee threw the picture on her desk, getting that maniacal hysteria she felt whenever she thought about what a horrible world she was living in. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she tacked the picture up on her wall. Her Wall of Shame. She had so many pictures showing the evils she saw almost daily as a photographer.

"It's so frightening!" She screamed out to no one in particular. She covered her face with her hands. "Why? Why does it have to be like this?" Shaylee opened her top drawer and pulled out a blade. She pulled her shorts back revealing many scars along her upper thighs. She took the blade and dug it into her skin. The blood began flowing from the new wound. She continued cutting herself till eventually she just stopped, falling out of her seat, sobbing loudly. She curled underneath her desk, blood spattered along the floor. She rocked slightly, crying about how scared she was.

"I just want it to end," she sobbed. "Please…just let it end."

Aw, that was sort of hard to write because I had a friend who cut her thighs so no one would be able to see and offer her help. It made me sad when I found out. Anyway, one of my own fears is this world that we're living in. I am so scared. Seriously. It's a scary world.

Anyway, please review!