Yay! I updated! I meant to update last week, but I never got around to it. The beginning is a little bit different than the end of How to Save a Life, but it's okay, right? Also, the time frame of everything that's happening (I mean the stages of grief) are kinda shortened. I actually looked up the 7 stages of grief after I wrote this and I had every stage in the right order :D I think this chapter is pretty good, it's special in it's own way. It's not as long as the last one, but the last one was really long. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned Camp Rock, I would be head over heels in joy because then I could personally teach each Jonas Brother exactally how I want each scene...Ohh, that sounds soo good! :D But I don't, so too bad for me.

"No, Nate's dead."

Nate…He's…gone. Not here. Forever lost.

Oh my God.

I continue to shake but my mind is frozen. I can't…think. My breathing gets harsher and harsher as time goes on.

"…Mitchie, I know…I know you saw N-nate last, and…and, I don't know where I'm going with this," Shane miserably rambles, nervously chuckling at the end. His words only make me feel worse.

I was the last one to see Nate.

I could have stopped him.

I broke Nate's heart.

I caused his death.

I let the phone fall from my grasp as I curl into a ball on my bed. My shaking never ceases but suddenly, my mind is unfrozen. I can see clearly now, everything I never saw before.

The looks of longing, the lingering hands on my arms, laughing along with me even when I wasn't trying to be funny. It all makes sense now.

How could I have been so stupid?

He…and I...I…

"I don't know what to do…" I whimper, squeezing my head in my hands. I want-no, I need all these thoughts to go away. Shock, pain, guilt, all of it. I just can't stop thinking about the last time I saw him. I didn't even look at him, I was too disgusted to even glance at him.

I missed my last chance to see him.

I squeeze my head harder as a few tears fall out of my eyes, which are shut tight. I start gasping for air as it becomes too much for me. Slowly, a new thought comes to my head.

It's all Nate's fucking fault.

I get up and go to my dresser, where a picture of Nate and me stands. I glare at him for a second before I pick it up and hurl it across the room. It shatters on impact.

"Nate! Why the fuck would you do that! Don't you know how much pain I'm in?! Don't you know that there are people here that actually care about you?! We could have helped you…I could have helped you…" my voice gets less coherent as sobs overtake my body. Now that all my steam has blown off, I'm left sobbing on the floor. I crawl to the corner of my room, having quite a hard time since my whole body was shaking worse than ever. Suddenly, I hiss and pull up my right hand. I had placed it on some of the shattered glass that had resulted from the broken picture and my hand was bleeding.

I freeze as I realize that this was the exact same method Nate used to end his life, granted that he cut his wrists. I bring my hand to my chest and cry over it, thinking more about Nate.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't blame you…" I whisper, hoping Nate can hear me, wherever he is.

When I look back down at my hand, I see it's bleeding a bit more than I had thought earlier. My shirt is stained with some blood and more is coming out. I gloomily get up and head to the bathroom, intending to clean up my wound and get some band aids, maybe going to the hospital for stitches if need be. I get into the bathroom and look into the mirror. I look a mess. My hair is in every direction, my eyes are red and puffy, and my shirt has blood all on the front. I sigh and turn on the water, washing the blood off my hand. I open the medicine cabinet to get some band aids when I freeze. Something in there seems much more important than the band aids right now. It's something that can potentially help me, if I do it correctly.

Sleeping pills.

I pick up the bottle, examining it. Surprisingly, it's a prescription for me from 2 years ago. I had a little bout of insomnia and my doctor had prescribed them. Fixed it in no time, so I know they work. I just don't know how many to take-

I drop the bottle. What am I doing! I'm not seriously thinking about overdosing…am I? I gulp and look into the mirror. I look pitiful. If Nate can do it…why can't I?

I pick up the bottle again and open it. I shake out a handful, hoping it's enough. I get out a glass and fill it with water numbly. I can't think about what I'm doing because I might chicken out.

I need to be back with Nate.

With Shane long forgotten, I pop the pills in my mouth and take gulps of water, washing the pills down with it. Once the last pill is swallowed, I look into the mirror for the last time.

The last time.

Holy shit! What the fuck did I do?! My eyes widen as I realize what I just did. What's going to happened. What just happened.

I start hyperventilating as I hold onto the sink for dear life. I don't know how long it takes for them to kick in, but I know I don't have that long to live.

"Oh, God. Nate, please help me. Someone, anyone! I don't want to die…" I beg and plead on my knees. To an outsider, I would look crazy, crying and talking to an empty room.

Slowly, I start to feel tired. I start to panic, my senses on high alert while also dulling from the medication. The edges of my vision are getting blurry and I don't have as much energy as before. I get up and run to my room, spotting my phone on my bed. I dive onto it and dial Shane's number.

"Hello? Mitchie, are you okay?" Shane answers after a few rings.

"No…I…then…pills…I…can't…" I sob into the phone, not making any sense. The blurriness starts spreading further into my vision.

"Wait, wait. Mitchie, did you say pills?" Shane urgently asks me.

I wheeze into the phone. "Shane…I'm so…sorry..." I say before my eyelids involuntarily close, feeling way to heavy to keep up. My eyesight was long gone and I just feel like giving in to the darkness that's engulfing me.

"Mitchie, I'll be right there, just hold on tight," Shane quickly says before hanging up.

I try to stand up, try to fight the sleep that's taking over, but I can't. I'm too weak.

Just like I was too weak to take the fact that Nate loved me.

I let out one last sob before uttering what I assume to be my last words. "Nate…I…love you too…" I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper as sleep invades my mind and body.

Up next: the funeral. But who's, you may ask. Well, that's for me to know and for you to find out in a little bit! By the way, the next chapter is the last one. It's going to give you guys some closure.

If you want to know what's going on with my stories and why I may or may not be updating quickly, check my profile. I have info under STORY STATUSES. I'm doing 4 stories at once now, since I took on a High School Musical story so I might update a bit slower. Then again, there's only one more chapter left, so I'll probably just quickly type it up next week.

Talking about the future, I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to update. I just got my report card and *gasp* I have a C. Granted, the grade was a 79.4, which I think is totally unfair. It's also a gifted honors class, which is about twice as hard as an honors class, which is hard enough as is. Also, it's social studies, which is not one of my best subjects. Luckily, it's just the first marking period and I'm a freshman, I just need to study more. I'm currently hiding my report card because if I don't, my dad would probably take my computer away, no lie. I'm going to hide it until Monday. By then, I hope to have updated 2 of my other stories.

So, assuming I don't get grounded or my computer taken away from me, I hope to update next week!

Hmm, I think that's all I have to say.

PS: Happy Friday the 13th! Although it was yesterday. Oh well, I tried.

PPS: Please review! Tell me what you think will happen! Remember, Shane's on his way to her house!