Author's Note I know it's Canada. But I don't know Canada's equivalent to our 911. Never have I been so ashamed to not know the worlds history and commonplace knowledge. If anyone knows what I can change it to, let me know and I will change it!

Disclaimer I own nothing, otherwise Life with Derek would be a really depressing series and not even aired on Disney. So there.

Casey woke and heard George and Nora downstairs. She got up to go see if they were leaving or not.

"Hey Casey!" George said happily. "Glad to see you aren't sleeping in. Are you feeling better?" Casey gave a smile to make him happy.

"A bit."

"We're just going to take Derek to a specialist that Dr. Cartwright suggested." Nora said kindly. "Do you want to come with us?" Casey shook her head no. Derek came down the stairs and Casey turned. He looked absolutely overjoyed. His eyes met hers and she let herself blush. It wasn't really her plan to see him after she had kissed him willingly.

"Ready Derek?" George asked, glad to see his son in a jubilant mood.

"Yeah. Let's get rollin'." Nora grabbed her purse and the three waved goodbye. When Casey heard their car leave the driveway she made her way upstairs.

On her dresser, next to the letter to Emily, was the letter she was leaving next to her. Casey's heart rate quickened with anticipation. She re-read and was still unhappy with it. After crumbling and tossing it in her trash bin, she grabbed a new sheet of paper and a pen to write it over.

"Dear family,

My possessions go to those who desire them. I'd prefer it if the Barbie dolls went to Marti, the books to Lizzie, and my clothes to my best friend Emily. The person I want to coordinate who my things go to is Mom. Derek will know what I have given him…I want him to keep that moment with him forever.

I am happy now, and I want you to be happy for me. Do not hate me for wanting this and going through with it. I know that it will be painful for everyone who cared about me. I want an open funeral. And because I love speeches, I want a good eulogy. Though I feel selfish writing it, it is my last will a testament. I want Lizzie to speak it. She will know what to speak to in order for me to hear her. Because I will hear it.

No matter what.

-Casey"

She let out a deep breath and set the pen down. Grabbing the piece of paper she headed to the garage to look for a box cutter, because it was a practical thing to cut with and the edge left a clean cut. The cluttered mess of the garage was sad, as no one went in there much anymore. Even the sledgehammer was still in the same spot.

Not wishing to relive her moments of terror she searched the toolbox for the box cutters. She found them in the very bottom, and the box they were in was rather dusty. Even more irony. Box cutters…in a box. Casey laughed to herself.

She grabbed one and closed the toolbox back up. The box cutter was diligently cleaned, and then set on the bathtub upstairs. Casey put the letter on the floor. As she waited for the warm water to fill the tub, she looked at her naked self.

"To go out the way I came. Naked. A perfect ending." Casey spoke to an invisible person, hopefully someone who cared deeply about all her woes and all her passionate reasons for ending her life. Maybe someone would look back at the tiny blemish she left on the planet and say, 'I feel too.'

When the tub had filled, she turned off the water and slowly settled herself into the water. She took a moment to think, letting her life rewind all the moments she loved, and for a moment living didn't seem so bad.

Her heart started to beat fast, but her decision was made. The negative outweighed the positive. How much lower could she go down? She didn't dare imagine. Her hands touched her pelvis. Casey would die without knowing of the child she may or may not carry. It would be her only regret.

Casey's eyes started to well with tears, and the heat wasn't as bearable because of the steam rising off of the warm water. His eyes always followed her. No matter what she did, the dead look of angry lust in Damien's eyes would eat at her till she was torn from the inside out.

A hand that seemed separate from her body grabbed the cutting tool, and her eyes did dare look too long at it. Swiftly she swiped down her left wrist. It had to be the left wrist; To bleed at the thought of marriage, to know that it wouldn't be right to those who looked upon her choice of death, to know that she left the world bleeding through her left wrist.

She leaned back. The red spread in the water, looking pink and feminine. Casey let any thought come to her mind, and the only thought she could hold on to was hoping that her mom didn't see her first.

Her head felt heavy, like she was falling asleep, and her eye-sight became blurred. It was twisting her vision; distorting. The right hand let go of the cutter, and the 'tink' when it hit the tub sounded dull-toned as her ears began to feel numb. The feeling in her hands left. Her heart began to slow, and her breathing became shallow.

It was the quickest sleep she had in what seemed like forever.

"I'm worried about my sister Edwin." Lizzie said, pushing him away. He had kept trying to cheer her up since they had left the house but to no avail. As he reached for a kiss, she had pushed him away yet again.

"I'm worried too, but more about Derek. He's the one going wacko." Edwin said, a little defeated but still sympathetic.

"Derek did something to Casey, and I want to know what it is." Lizzie said defiantly, but in a hushed tone so not to wake Marti. Their Uncle had stuck all three of them in the guest bedroom, which got more on Lizzie's nerves than anyone.

"Lizzie, Lizzie…I thought you already knew about a lovely thing called patience. I mean, how patient did you have to be for me? How long did it take me to realize you wanted me to kiss you?" Lizzie rolled her eyes, half-smiling, and pushed him down.

"A while." The statement was more jovial, but still had a bitter undertone. He stood up and tried to make another attempt at a kiss. "Edwin, I think we should do our homework. Besides Marti will probably be waking from her after school nap soon." He bit his lip, and begrudgingly complied.

Nora tapped her foot at the doctor's office. George had gone in with Derek for this session and she had nothing to do but wallow in the fervent worries that had overcome her. Not only had her step-son developed some kind of strange, psychotic mania that someone suggested was MPD, but he also had raped her daughter. She knew that her daughter was a virgin, and how passionate she was about having her first time be during the honeymoon after the perfect wedding. Such a romantic dream for Casey, and knowing that he had ruined all Casey's dreams made Nora quite uncomfortable.

She worried about Derek quite often, but leaving Casey alone. Nora wasn't sure that was the best medicine. Loneliness does things to people.

Emily twiddled her pencil on the desk. It was the third day that Casey hadn't come to school. Something must have happened. The two least likely candidates for a fight, Noel and Derek, got into a fight; with each other. Why? It must have had something to do with Casey…but what? And who was in the right? Well…more in the right? Maybe I should go talk to Casey? Since she's at home, maybe…maybe I can get out of school early and have a chat with her. I feel really bad getting mad over something petty…it's obvious to me now that she was acting different. And I didn't even notice. Yeah…I need to go home early.

Derek sighed and explained, for the fourth time this week, what was wrong with him, what he had been experiencing. He had to include every disgusting detail, even the one where he had raped Casey. Now he knew that they had names though. Thanks to Casey for telling him about a conversation one of them had with her. It was odd of him to think he had a girl somewhere inside of him.

"And last night, Casey came into my room to see if I was okay. We got into a conversation and she mentioned that a couple of these things that come out of me have names…Is that crazy?" The doctor leaned into his hands contemplatively. To Derek it seemed the ultimate form of arrogance. How dare the doctor contemplate, he could be thinking whatever he wanted.

"I need to interview you, Derek, some more, but I am near certainty that you have multiple personality disorder. This is caused by severe sexual and/or physical abuse as a child. It's most prominent in women, but men get it to. The purpose of the personalities is to protect you from memories that you suppressed so severely. Each personality has a job. The most common are ones who protect you, ones who perform sexual acts because the sexual abuse was too traumatic for you to bear, and the ones that develop first are the ones that appear to be numb of pain and have not a worry in the world. Those are the ones that would have defended you as a child." Derek was trying to keep all of this information, but only bits and pieces of it were caught. It was hard for him to understand.

"So, you are saying I was abused…really bad as a kid?" Derek asked with an uncertainty.

"If you have Multiple Personality Disorder, then yes. That is what happened." Derek turned to George. George was still looking at the doctor.

"My s-son was abused? How do we find out who?" His voice was choked back. The shock was a little hard to bear.

"Since the sexual and physical abuse must have happened on a semi-regular basis, obviously someone who interacted with Derek on a semi-regular basis at least. But remember that isn't my diagnosis yet. For the record though, who can you think of besides yourselves?"

There was silence in the room. George stumbled through his memories trying to find a point in time where he wasn't in his son's life that much.

"The entire summer before Edwin was born Abby and I went traveling to various places in Europe and didn't think it would be good to take Derek since it was an extended vacation. He stayed with a baby-sitter." George said in monotone. The memory seemed to pain him. A regret that he thought he should never have had to endure. Why hadn't I taken Derek with us…?

Emily waited impatiently in the attendance office. Her mother seemed to deem her reasons for leaving school as unimportant, therefore took her time getting there.

When she finally arrived Emily rushed her back out, and into the car parked just outside. Mrs. Davis dropped Emily off at the curb of their house.

"You going to be alright alone at her house? I know you and Casey were having some trouble." Emily gave a reassuring smile.

"We'll be fine. I just need to talk to her…make sure she's okay." She smiled at Emily, proud of her maturity. Emily's gut turned as she watched her mom leave.

She knocked hard on the McDonald-Venturi's front door. There was no answer. Emily leaned back to try and see if there was any sign of life in Casey's bedroom. Checking the living room window, she saw that no one was in the kitchen or living room. After knocking a couple more times, she tried opening the door.

It was unlocked.

Emily let herself in, knowing that they wouldn't be too upset. It wasn't like she was a thief or anything.

As she walked upstairs there was an eerie silence in the house. Casey's door was open, but when she looked inside there was no one within. The entire room was clutter-free except for one spot on her desk. Her curiousness took over and she got closer.

Examining the letter on her desk, she saw 'To Emily', on a sealed envelope. For me? She grabbed it without hesitation and carefully tore it open. Her heart pounding, she read aloud.

"Dear Emily," She said softly, starting to pace, " I'm sorry I couldn't speak to you before. I forgive you…if you forgive me. It was rude of me to tell you he was just rebound knowing that it would hurt you despite the fact it was the truth." Emily cocked her head to the side and continued, on edge, "I can't say I've been acting myself lately- Very true, very true," She muttered, "It's probably better that you take what happens and leave it at that. Don't ask why. That very question has gotten many men and women killed by many means- What's going to happen?," She questioned, then continued knowing she'd find out eventually, "I don't want you to torture yourself because of me. I love you Emily, and I want you to have my clothes for as long as they fit. Remember how close we were to finding love. You'll find it. You're amazing." Emily smiled, but felt uneasy, "Love, Casey…" She folded the letter back up and stuck it in the envelope. "But…why would Casey give me her clothes? She needs to dress to go out in public too."

Her head tried to solve the riddle, but did so as she left the room. Casey must be in the house. As she walked by the bathroom, a drip could be heard from the faucet. I know! She must be taking a bath! Emily went to the door and knocked.

"Casey! It's me, Em!" She said happily against the door. "I wanted to talk to you, I'm coming in, so if you don't want me to see anything…cover up or fold yourself up or something." There was no answer. After a few moments silence, Emily slowly opened the door. Behind the curtain Emily saw a small tuft of Casey's hair. She grinned. "There's no point in ignoring me Casey. I just wanted to apologize…and I already saw your letter." No noise but the drip of the faucet. Emily was getting a little agitated.

She walked forward and pulled back the curtain fast. In utter horror she reeled back eying the blood still seeping from her wrist. Her hand covered her mouth, but it did not stop the vomit emitting from the deepest pit of her stomach. Emily was sent on a torturous roller coaster flipping her insides over and over and all she knew was why Casey had wanted her to have the clothing.

In an eon, an everlasting moment, she walked to Casey to see any sign of life. Her breath could be shallowly heard against the calm surface of the water.

Bolting down the stairs to search for the phone, she dialed 911.

"Yes, I need to report a suicide!" She said loudly in to the phone, her attempts to sound formal failing in this time of crisis.

"Is the suicide victim still alive?"

"Yes, I think so! I don't want her to die!" She breathed out, her lungs tempting to suffocate her. "I don't-"

"Calm down mam, Could you please give us the address of your location?" A car pulled up in the driveway. It must be them. She thought to herself, referring to Casey's parents.

"Yes." She gave the address and the lady on the other line said an emergency vehicle was on their way. Emily hung up the phone and ran outside. Derek, Nora and George were calmly getting out of the car until Emily came crashing out their front door.

"Emily!" Nora squealed out. Derek gave her an odd look and shut the car door. Emily was breathless and she bent over, her stomach aching. There was vomit on her shirt. "Are you okay?" Nora asked, concerned.

"Casey, She, upstairs, blood," Emily started to cry and she weakly fell to the grass, sobbing. George and Nora looked at each other. Derek sprinted into the house.

Nora followed, her heart racing, scared. George bent over to tend to Emily, a little disgusted at the vomit, though in his heart he felt heavy with worry.

Derek eyed Casey's room, but she wasn't in it. The bathroom door was open and he slowly walked inside. Nora got to the top of the stairs and placed herself behind him.

Afraid, he turned through the doorway; seeing a bathtub of blood, and Casey's head poking strangely out of the red made his stomach turn and caused him to vomit as Emily had. Nora screamed. She ran to her daughter and lifted her from the shoulders.

The sirens could be heard outside.

"She's in the upstairs bathroom." Emily called out to them. Three men ran into the house, one of them with a stretcher.

Nora rocked back and forth with Casey in her arms. The three men reached the bathroom and placed Casey gingerly on the stretcher. Derek stared at her slit wrist. It seemed so terribly deep.

He ran into her room and grabbed a sheet. Derek followed the men walking down the stairs and tossed the sheet over her naked body.

"Nora, I want to go with her." He said. Nora shook her head no. "I'm not asking Nora. I'm going!" Derek yelled at her, rushing into the vehicle. She got in behind Derek. It was a little cramped, so one of the men got into the front with the driver. As they shut the door Derek caught a glimpse of Emily, looking confused up at Derek. George had his arm around, comforting her.

The vehicle took off speedily but as gently as possible. The man, whose badge read 'Jared', was wrapping gauze around Casey's bleeding wrist. Derek touched her cheek. It was cold. The sheet was getting a little wet from her body, but he didn't take notice.

"Why'd you do it, Casey?" He whispered.

Casey could feel her body being jerked around. The world seemed to be separated from her mind though. She was on another plane, but his voice still carried inside her heart.

"Why'd you do it, Casey?" He whispered again. Nora began to cry and grasp tightly to her daughters right hand. Casey tried her hardest to move. Her mouth twitched and Derek opened his ears, knowing that she could hear him. "Casey…" Derek whispered endearingly.

"If you…" Casey said in a dry voice, "saw those eyes…" Nora didn't hear Casey, and Derek placed his ear close to her lips to hear her words, "you would know…why…" Her breathing became exhausted from her last word, and Casey's head rolled to the side.

Derek's eyes widened and his head shook no. No, no, no… He grasped her head and made her closed eyes face him.

"Sir, please don't." The medic said forcefully. Reluctantly Derek set her head down.

It was evident to everyone in the vehicle that they had gotten there too late. She was where she wanted to be.