I really wonder if there is another way to say thank you. Thank you is getting too redundant. Merci. It makes me so happy that you like this story. I'm trying so hard to make it good for you. The lyrics in this chapter are "Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong" by Radiohead.

Chapter 3 "Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong"

Brooke POV

It's funny the things you assume happen. A strange desire for utopia turns out to be melancholic and an empty dream. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I thought that since I had told someone the truth something might change. I might come home to…a home.

I wrapped you inside my coat
When they came to firebomb the house
I didn't feel pain, 'cause no-one can touch me
Now that I'm held in your spell

General POV

Brooke was sitting on her bed. Her parents were fighting in the other room. It was going on intermittently, as it always was. There would be some yelling, someone would break something, there would be a pause, and the yelling would start back up again. Brooke stripped off her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror. Her light white canvas was covered in blue and black splotches. Brooke's mom hit her only where she could cover it up with a dress. She scoffed as she thought of tonight. The last thing Peyton had said to her was "You slut," after she found out Brooke wanted Lucas too. "Hah, slut," she said to herself, "that's funny Peyton." Brooke wasn't a virgin but she was too weak to get around the block like everyone assumed. No one could see her in that condition. She pushed people away because of this reason. If they knew her, they'd find out. "I made a mistake," she said to herself. "Telling Nathan something about me, he's got his foot in the door." She shook the notion off. "Nah, he probably doesn't care." Brooke traced the bruises. They all were scars that told a story. They were everywhere, but no one could see them. She got dressed and hit the bed with a thud. Crawling under her covers, she started to cry. The tears weren't hot though; they were cold like ice.

A beautiful girl
A beautiful girl
Can turn your world into dust

Out on the rocks it was quiet in the morning. The blue water made a swish sound with the wind. It was the perfect place to run away to. She sat there, thinking. Earlier that morning she had stopped by Peyton's to apologize, maybe she had turned over a new leaf, is what she thought to herself. However, to her dismay Brooke discovered Peyton bare and preoccupied under her sheets with Lucas. I guess they had to finish what they started. "Some things never change," she said to herself, "I'm always in the way one way or another." Her ribs hurt because of the bruises but she ignored the pain. She tried to think of something peaceful, and her mind flashed to Nathan.

Sell me a car that goes
Sell me a house that stands
I never cared before, I never cared before
I never cared before, before, before, before

Nathan woke up and felt hurt, more his heart than his jaw. His mom didn't love him, how bad does that feel? He lifted his hand to his face and touched it. He winced. It was raw and sensitive. He was a basketball player; he could make up a good excuse. He peeled off his covers and got out of bed; his legs like lead as is feet hit the floor. It's strange the things you think of. Nathan's mom hit him again and all he could think about was Brooke and the feeling he had when she told him all those things. No one had ever told him the truth before. No one was ever real.

A beautiful girl
A beautiful girl
Can turn your world into dust

The beach it seemed was a shared favorite place. Nathan had crawled his feeble figure over to the rocks. He felt so frail, like a child. He saw her, tears in her eyes, away from the façade; there she was broody like everyone else. She had a heart like everyone else. He was too stupid to see it.

A beautiful girl
A beautiful girl
Can turn your world into dust

She heard someone behind her. She turned and she saw him struggling. His smirk had gone and in his face there was pain; he felt like everyone else. She knew he would come around soon. She had a notion he couldn't keep up with what he showed the world, not anymore, just like she couldn't. He crawled over to the spot next to her. She was still crying. It didn't matter anymore. He could see. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her and they were quiet for those moments, looking out at the ocean, hoping for something better. A few minutes had passed and she lifted her head. Her hands were already to her face already wiping the tears from her eyes. He pushed a piece of hair of hers behind her ear, the better to see her face. Her eyes went wide as she saw his jaw, the same bluish and black spots that were on her torso. "Nathan," she whispered. Her fingers traced the contusion. He tried to pull her wrists down to make her stop but she wouldn't budge and he didn't want to force her. "Who did this to you?" she asked. "No one," he replied bluntly. "No one," he said again. She leaned her face in closer and kissed the discoloration on his jaw. "Don't lie to me."

I stood in front of her face
When the first bullet was shot