A/N: Hi everybody! I'm so sorry for the wait on this, but I did manage to get an update in today! I'll be updating Southern Summer Love as soon as I get the chance. Anyway, here's chapter nine of Judgemental. I hope you all like this chapter!

Oh and don't forget to check out my new story Her and Me.

Chapter 9- Goodbye

"Do you think this looks weird?"

I hold up my drawing of a disformed man. The man in my pictures has his head as feet, and his legs as arms. His arms are his nose, and his eyes are on his knees. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I began drawing it, but it just came to me so I began to draw. But in a way my drawing started to make sense to me.

"Yes. I also think that drawing is a little disturbed," Lucas said.

For the past three weeks, after school I would find myself in Lucas' bedroom We would sit and talk and sometimes do homework. I loved spending time with him any chance I had. Lucas always managed to make me laugh at everything he said, even if it was't meant to be funny.

"Is it really? I didn't notice. I was going for the uniqueness of the man. You see, he's not like everyone else, and he doesn't want to be. He's an individual and doesn't care what anyone thinks of him. Kind of like you," I say nudging his arm.

"Well, I still see a man with an arm as a nose," Lucas says chuckling as he continues to read his book.

"Whatever," I pause before speaking. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?" Lucas asks setting his book down on the nightstand.

"You know, popularity. You showed me your yearbook yesterday, and you were in like every picture with a bunch of people. At your other school, you had so many friends and you were this great basketball star. And now all you have is me," I say suddenly feeling exceptionally guilty.

I feel as if I'm the reason he doesn't have other friends. How could someone go from being so popular and everyone wanting him, to having one friend that people think is weird? It just didn't make sense to me.

"Yes, I had a lot of friends, but none of them were really what I considered a friend. You, Peyton Sawyer, are more of a friend than any of the people at my other school were. And maybe all I want is you," Lucas says with a smile.

As soon as Lucas said that I felt a rush of something strange run through my body, almost like I started to tingle inside. I had never felt this feeling about anyone before. It was unfamiliar. I found myself wanting to be closer and closer to Lucas everday, especially because he always knew the right thing to say. The more time I spent with Lucas, the more I hated being away from him.

"Seriously?" I ask looking down at the mattress.

"Seriously," he says picking my chin up with his finger.

I nod lightly. "So why didn't you end up trying out for basketball? I mean before I was in the hospital you said you were going to, and now clearly you didn't."

"Because there was no time."

"What do you mean no time? The tryouts were only an hour and a half long," I say confused.

"Well, At 3:00, when I was done with school, I would always go and see you at the hospital. I wanted to be there when you woke up so you weren't scared. And I was going to try out, but then I decided that being with you in the hospital was more important than being on a high school basketball team."

I reach in to hug him, never wanting to let him go.

Friends like Lucas only come around once in a while, so for me to have someone like him is so rare and special. I'm glad that I was blessed to know Lucas. He's the keeper of my darkest secrets, but still accepts me anyway. He was truely all I could ever want or ask for.

Later that night, I lay awake in my bed, unable to fall asleep. I kept seeing the fury and rage in my father's face when he pushed me down the stairs. It was all replaying in my mind in slow motion. It kept reoccuring over and over in my head, and I couldn't stop it. I felt hot tears slide down the side of my face when I remembered my mother. I hadn't even went to her funeral. I couldn't help but consider myself a horrible daughter. Even though both my parents were gone, I couldn't escape them. They were always going to be with me. I closed my eyes tightly trying to get rid of the fear that was surrounding me.

I couldn't take it anymore. I got up from my bed and tip-toed quietly to Lucas' room. I watched as he slept on the right side of his bed buried under his blanket. I crawled into his bed on the left side, and he awoke quickly. He was a very light sleeper.

"Peyton?" he asked groggily while rubbing his eyes.

"Hi. Look. I'm sorry. Really. But I can't sleep." I paused. " I keep seeing my parents, and it won't go away. Can I sleep with you tonight?"I ask, feeling like a child.

He nodded his head. "Sure."

I layed in bed beside him not saying a word. He wrapped his strong arms around my waist while I buried my face into his bare chest. I felt safe now. I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up at 6:30. Lucas was still asleep. I brought my hands to his face and traced his prominent features. His face was so soft and so gentle.

He stirred a little before waking. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hi."

"You ok now?" he asked.

"Kind of. Not really. Well, last night I realized that the only way I'm going to get rid of my parents is if I have some sort of closure with them."

"Closure?" he asked confused.

"Yes. Closure. I need to go see them. Today," I say confidently.

"Peyton, I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe, you should just wait until the trial to see your Dad," Lucas said propping himself up on his elbows.

"No. I have to, now. It's the only way I'll ever truly escape them." I take a deep breath. "Do you know where my mother is buried?" I ask.

He nods his head. "Yeah. Tree Hill Cemetery."

"Will you go there with me, today?" I ask hopeful.

"Sure."

"Right now?" I ask.

"Yeah. Let's get dressed."

I get out of the bed and walk to my bedroom. I put on a pair of blue jeans with a rip in the knee, and a plain black shirt. I brush my teeth quickly before going to the kitchen.

When I look over Lucas' shoulder, he's writing Karen a letter.

Mom,

Peyton and I had some things to take care of. Don't worry!

We'll be home a little later. I'll explain everything when I get home!

Love,

Lucas

Lucas turns to me. "Ready?"

"No, but let's go," I say putting my coat on.

"Alright."

We arrive at the state prison. I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. My heart rate probably increased fifty times its original speed. My legs were weak while my breathing became heavy.

"Peyton, you ok?" Lucas asked.

We stopped before entering. "No. I..I guess I'm having second thoughts," I say running my hands nervously through my hair.

"Well, we don't have to go in there. We can go home if you want."

I shake my head. "No. We can't. I have to do this."

"Ok." Lucas looks down at me and sees my shaking hands. He takes my hand in his and entwines our fingers.

I nod my head at him as I open the door.

We walk to the front desk where there is an old woman sitting and reading a magazine.

"What can I help you with?" she asks still looking at her magazine.

I clear my throat a little before speaking. "Umm, hi. We're here to see Larry Sawyer."

This catches her attention as she tears her eyes away from the article she was reading. "Sawyer?" she asks in almost disbelief.

"Yes, Larry Sawyer."

"Are you Peyton?" she asks setting her magazine down.

She knows me? I look over at Lucas who looks just as confused.

I nod my head. "Yes, I'm Peyton."

"You look good, honey."

"Thanks, I guess. If you don't mind me asking, how do you know me?"

"Well, between you and me, you're the talk of this whole place," she says pointing around. "Mainly because your father put you in a coma for three months. It's good to know that you're alright." The woman smiles at me. "Now, if you don't mind me asking you a question, why are you here?"

It amazes me how everyone in the prison supposably knows me. "I'm here to get closure."

"He's a sick bastard you know?" the woman says pressing a button and calling for one of the guards to lead me to his cell.

"Yes. I know."

I take Lucas' hand once again as we follow the guard. I look around at the concrete walls and barbed wire. It smells of sweat and dirty socks.

The guard opens a door to wear all the cells in the prison are. We arrive to a cell with the number 254.

"Sawyer. Visitation," the guard tells him.

My father looks up from the ground toward me. His eyes were dull, but still had the piercing glow in them. He was growing a beard that really didn't suit him well. His face still scared me to death.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up," my father said sitting up. "And look who else came," he said looking at Lucas.

"Why, Dad? Why did you do that to me?" I ask wanting to cut to the chase.

"Why did I do that? Well, first answer why you did this to me? You got what you wanted, Peyton. You put your FATHER in jail while your MOTHER is dead. Does that make you happy?"

My eyes started to well with tears. He was crawling under my skin like he always used to. A tear escaped my eye, traveling down the side of my face. Lucas looked over at me and squeezed my hand a little.

"Stop it! This isn't her fault. None of this is. You can't put the blame on her for something that you did!" Lucas yelled.

"It does make me happy," I whisper. "After thirteen years of hell, you finally got what you deserved, and I couldn't be happier," I say with confidence.

"Now, Peyton, tell me this. Would you be saying that if I wasn't behind these bars?" My father said walking closer to me.

"I am sick and tired of your crazy, pathetic threats. I'm sick of you hurting me for your own pleasure and because things in your life don't go right. So the answer to your question is yes. I hope you rot in hell," I spat at him.

My father just laughed. "Are you finished?"

"Yes I'm finished now. Have a nice time in prison," I say as I start to walk away.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Peyton," he yells after me. "There is still the trial, and there is a pretty good chance that I could get out of here."

Lucas motioned for me to keep walking. "Just ignore him. He's trying to scare you," he whispered.

Lucas and I quickly walked out of there.

"Do you feel better?" Lucas asked me.

"A lot better. I feel like the shadow of him won't be walking around with me."

"Do you still want to go see your mom?" Lucas asked while he opened his car door and stepped in.

"Yes. I have to."

We drove in silence to the Tree Hill Cemetery. I was still thinking of what I was going to tell her. My mother and I really didn't speak much, but she never hurt me. She also wouldn't stop my father from hurting me when it was happening. She just needed her drugs and alcohol. Even though she was either drunk or stoned, I knew she heard me screaming or yelling. She just blanked it out.

Lucas started to get out of the car, but I signaled with my hand for him to stay.

"I need to do this on my own," I say unbuckling my seat belt.

"Ok. I'll be here if you need me."

"Alright. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Take as much time as you need. I'm not going anywhere," Lucas says.

"Thanks, Luke."

I walked from the car into the graveyard where there must have been thousands of graves. I wondered how many of these people died of an overdose like my mom.

I got to her grave and it read:

Anna Elizabeth Sawyer

September 10,1968

February 3, 2008

Normally, underneath the date it would say something about the person, but my mother's said nothing. It makes me a little upset to think that no one had come to her funeral when they buried her.

"Hi mom," I say as I start to feel a lump in my throat. "We both knew that this day would come sooner or later. Better sooner, I guess. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I never tried to help you quit smoking and drinking, and I'm sorry for the pain that Dad might have caused you, too." I close my eyes to try and stop tears from coming, but one of them escapes my eye and falls onto my mother's tombstone. "I just wish that we could have been a family like we used to be when I was little. You know, when you used to take me to the park, and I would complain how I wanted to stay a little longer, but you told me that we had to go home because Daddy would be getting back from work." I wipe my eyes with my right hand. "I miss that, and now I'll never get it back because you and Dad are selfish. This really kills me to say this, but the both of you got what you deserved." I start to break down and sob into my hands. The tears kept flowing uncontrollably, but I managed to speak. "I won't be visiting you anymore. This was goodbye. I have a new family now. People who care about me." I looked to my left and noticed a bush with daisies. I reached down for one, and placed it on my mother's grave. "Goodbye mom."

I walk back to Lucas' car trying to hold back my tears. I open the door and step inside. Lucas looks at me and notices my tears trickling down my cheeks. He reaches in and holds me in his arms as I cry. I suppose I was crying because I felt guilty. I almost felt like I was the one who was abandoning them, like I was the one who was wrong.

"You did so good, Peyton. Everything's going to be ok. You'll see," he whispers into my ear.

"Things have to get worse before they get better, right?" I ask wiping away my tears.

He smiles and nods. "Right."

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