Enjoy…

xxxx

She was in a room with the water steadily rising.

She tries banging on the door but it won't budge. It's locked and no one will let her out.

The water is cold and she's barely able to keep a float as it fills the room. Her clothes feel heavy and pull her down. She's screaming for someone to help her.

She takes one last breath as the room fills up. Her lungs feel like they're about to burst and she knows she's drowning.

Cold and alone is how she's is going to die…

She woke up to Lucas's strong arms at her shoulders. He was shaking her gently, trying to convince her to wake up. His voice was distant at first but slowly it became louder and she remembered where she is.

"Brooke, wake up….wake up…it's just a dream…"

Her body felt wet and she knew it wasn't from the water but from sweat. Her clothes are sticky and the coolness of the air caused her to shiver.

"I'm okay Lucas…"

She sat up but the look of concern on his face meant she couldn't just go off to her room. This was the third night he had found her like this. Though there were plenty of times she had woken up in a sweat by herself in her room. Each time she'd wake just when it seemed like she could take no more.

"You're not okay. How long has this been going on?"

"Not long…"

It wasn't a total lie. They had only started the night Victoria had sent those papers. The day everything she had been running from finally caught up with her.

Victoria's indifference and the stark reality she was forced to face had sent her into the same downward spiral that caused her to flee months ago. She found herself feeling the same inadequacies she had tried so hard to forget, to push deep within her so she could claim they didn't exist. But they were still there, waging a war against her sanity.

"Are they about the attack?"

"No," she responded quickly. She didn't want him worrying about that. She didn't want him thinking about that.

It was the one thing she was thankful for because she wasn't sure she could handle actually reliving the experience. It was bad enough just knowing it happened; she preferred to forever live with a blank memory of the actual night.

"I'm really tired Lucas…" She mumbled while gathering her things. An empty sketch pad and a few charcoal pencils. Not that she was able to sketch these days. Every time she picked up the pencil to draw her hands would tremble and her chest would constrict. The doctor said it was a panic attack.

"Brooke…" he began again.

"Please not tonight Luke."

She looked at him finally and he read the tiredness that filled her eyes. He gave her a defeated nod signaling he'd let it slide for the time being.

She quickly walked to Karen's bedroom and locked the door. She popped a few of the anxiety pills the doctor had given her. They had written her a new prescription when she mentioned a few of her symptoms. Apparently it was all normal considering what she had gone through and she didn't question their decisions because if this was a normal response, it helped her not feel so alone.

She checked each window twice before finally crawling under the covers. They were always locked but she couldn't even close her eyes knowing she hadn't checked.

She knew she'd probably either toss and turn for the rest of the night or wake in two hours with the same nightmare but she'd rather be buried under covers alone than face Lucas's worried eyes again.

xxxx

In the past week her life has felt more constricted. She's tried to go around Tree Hill but her limbs would suddenly feel like lead and she'd be unable to move forward. She tried once to drive downtown to where the boutique once stood but she had found herself paralyzed with fear halfway there. She had stood at an intersection for ten minutes before the blaring of the car horn behind her had shaken her enough to bring her back to the present.

She cried for hours when she got home. It didn't make sense. If she couldn't even go down to where CB once stood how was she supposed to ever put the attack behind her? The attack felt like nothing sometimes, like maybe it never happened or she had healed fully from it but then there were times when suddenly she felt back in the moment.

Lucas had knocked on her door for hours after that incident but she couldn't answer it. What was she supposed to say? When she emerged later she refused to answer his questions though the splotchy marks on her cheeks and the redness of her nose had been response enough. She might have tried to explain but there were no words that could help him understand and there was no point burdening him. All she knew it felt like the good days were getter fewer and the bad days worse.

She hated her mother because just when Brooke was starting to piece together some semblance of a normal life her mother ruined everything she had worked so hard to attain.

She hated herself as well. For being weak and unable to handle it all. To not being capable of taking a stand against the woman who made her life so miserable. But she couldn't do that. She couldn't ever stand up to Victoria Davis because the woman knew just how to wield the knife so Brooke only felt the pain.

Maybe she was a little jealous of her mother. Victoria had been able to become a heartless bitch. To not care for anyone but herself and it had gotten her everything she wanted. Sometimes Brooke wondered what she wanted and how far she'd go for it. If history proved anything it showed Brooke wasn't strong enough to fight for what she wanted. She conceded and let people take what they wanted from her, just like her mother had said.

She looked around the small room hating everything within it. Everything represented something she wasn't. Something her mother had single handily taken away. Something she had given away to others.

She grabbed a garbage bag and began stuffing it with sexy clothing she knew she'd never wear again. Anything with the Clothes over Bros label was tossed into the bag as well. She gathered the papers her mother had sent. All the bill, letters, and statements. She didn't care anymore. The scrapbooks she had made and pictures from New York and Tree Hill were quickly tossed in to the bag. It was all about a person she wasn't anymore. She grabbed her sketch pad and the pencils as well. She'd never draw again. She was certain.

She dragged the bag outside and threw it with what force she could muster. The bag burst and the contents spilled across the front lawn. She didn't care. She'd pick it up later but it had to be out of the house. She didn't want any reminders of who she used to be. She wouldn't let people take again. She couldn't if she planned on surviving.

If she hated who she was she had become someone else. It was that simple.

She had been a different person once. Someone who didn't care, someone who hurt people's feelings and acted like nothing got under her skin. That girl had never needed anyone so there was nothing to lose.

She could never fully go back but there were things that girl had that Brooke needed so bad right then. That girl knew how to survive and she was struggling just to make it through each day.

She pulled two white pills out of her pocket. She had to help herself if things were ever going to get better.

She threw on a jacket and headed out the door.

xxxx

Lucas entered the house to find Brooke in front of the stove. He wasn't sure what to expect considering he had just spent 20 minutes picking up a random assortment of Brooke's items off the front lawn.

She turned towards him and smiled, "Hey Luke. I'm attempting to cook dinner."

He was glad to see her up and about. She had spent much of the past week in a daze. Her eyes so dull and muted whenever she looked at him. Like a ghost of the girl he once knew.

There were a few nights he had heard her crying. But she was locked away behind the door. He knew she was having nightmares as well. He didn't know how often but she refused to talk about them as well.

He knew it had to do with Victoria. The day Brooke got those letters things had changed for the worst.

"Just don't burn the place down," he finally responded.

She turned and winked at him and he already knew she was trying hard to act like everything was great. He watched her for a moment and saw the insecurity in her movements. He had never watched her close enough to notice them before. The slight curve of her spine, the tapping of her foot, the tremble in her smile. It was a Brooke he wasn't used to seeing.

"So do you want to tell me why I found your clothes, scrapbooks, and sketch pads scattered across the front lawn?"

He decided to be blunt. They could dance around the subject all night but he didn't want to drag it out. Especially since he knew she wouldn't be inclined to tell him without some prompting. Lately she was full of secrets he couldn't even fathom.

"I don't need them anymore. Those things all belong to someone who doesn't exist anymore."

She turned with the pot and poured soup into two bowls.

"What do you mean you don't need them anymore? They're your clothes, and you need the pads for drawing."

"Those are Victoria's clothes and I don't want them. Plus I'm not drawing anymore so I don't need the sketch pads."

His eyes widened slightly. She wasn't drawing? Sketching was like breathing for Brooke. The thing that helped her find her place in the world.

"You're not drawing anymore?"

She simply nodded her head in response as though it was of no importance.

"Brooke, you're a fashion designer. You have to sketch."

Her features distorted slightly to emphasize her point, "I was a fashion designer. Now I'm not."

"You can't just do that," he felt so confused with her actions.

"Yes I can. I got a job as a waitress, now I'm a waitress" she responded quickly while cutting some cucumbers for a salad. Her gaze remained downwards.

"Brooke, it's who you are…you can't just give up a part of you."

"You gave up basketball." Her voice was getting a little louder and now she looked him in the eyes. Her hands gripped the table and the blood was rushing to her face.

He wasn't sure why she brought it up. They were nothing alike. Basketball had been taken from him. He wanted it so badly but his heart could never be in the game. She was throwing away something that made her complete. Something that she could still do.

"I didn't have a choice. And I wish I could play everyday. You can still draw. You have a choice"

He didn't want this to become an argument but it was too late because Brooke threw a plate across the room. The shattering glass quickly quieted his thoughts.

"I don't have a choice Lucas. I can't just pick up a pencil and go back to the life I was living. Every time I bring that pencil to the pad my heart starts racing so fast I think I'm going to faint. I feel like the world is coming down around me and I'm helpless to do anything so no, I don't have a choice."

Before he could even respond the door to Karen's room had already slammed shut. He thinks about following her but he already knows the door will be locked and she'll refuse to let him in.

He picked up the pieces of the plate from off the ground and sighed. He felt in over his head and only now did he understand a fraction of what Brooke must have been feeling.

He threw the shards away and grabbed his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. He couldn't help her alone. Maybe that's why they'd been struggling this past week.

"Hey Hales…I messed up bad…do you think you can come by?"

xxxx

Haley knocked softly on Brooke's door.

"Go away."

Haley knocked again before adding it wasn't Lucas.

She heard rustling and the door unlocked and was face to face with a red nosed sniffling Brooke.

"Hey," Brooke mumbled.

Haley smiled, "Hey Tigger…can I come in?"

Brooke nodded and stepped aside.

"I must have freaked Lucas out pretty bad for him to call you."

Haley laughed quietly before settling down on the bed next to the spot Brooke had occupied. Lucas had told her about finding Brooke's belongings scattered across the front yard. About the argument that ensued and Brooke's confession about drawing and the panic attacks.

He had looked so lost when she had arrived. She knew the toll seeing Brooke in her current state was having on Lucas. They all felt like they shared a piece of the blame for Brooke's situation but Lucas always carried more guilt than everyone else. In every situation he beat himself up more than was necessary.

Brooke was similar. She always thought herself first to blame. She always thought she had done something wrong. Brooke constantly underestimated her strengths and overemphasized the few weaknesses she possessed. The few mistakes she had made over the years seemed to outweigh all the good in Brooke's mind. Haley was sure that was Victoria's doing. And in the four years Brooke had been gone from Tree Hill it had gotten worse. In high school there were people there to remind Brooke the negatives she heard about herself from her mother were nothing more than figments of the woman's imagination. Running an empire with the heartless bitch had finally taken its toll on her cheery friend. When Brooke had no one else Victoria had been there, ready to manipulate the vulnerable girl.

Haley always admired Brooke's perseverance. Through it all she survived. Haley doubted she would have come out as brilliant of a person as Brook under similar circumstances. Even know Haley saw the strength Brooke possessed above all else.

"No," she responded finally, "he was just concerned about you."

"Well, the feeling must be universal because I'm concerned for me too."

Haley nodded, "So what happened? Lucas said you're waitressing?"

Brooke gave her a small smile before sitting down on the corner of the bed, "Yeah I am. I know it seems stupid but I just had to do something and since I have no skills beyond drawing waitressing was my only option."

"You don't have to get a job sweetie."

Brooke cut her off quickly, "Yeah I do. This past week I've been holed up in this house because every time I think about stepping outside I freak out. I was fine last week and suddenly I'm right back to where I was four months ago."

Haley felt guilty upon hearing Brooke's reply. It was midterms week at the high school and Haley had once again let life get in the way of helping her friend. Other than a few infrequent phone calls Haley hadn't seen much of Brooke the past week. They had shared one meal that Haley had brought over a night Lucas and Nate were working late.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here more Brooke."

The other girl shook her head quickly, "It's not anything you could help me with. I wanted to be alone. I mean, Lucas was here and I just couldn't say anything to him."

Haley sighed. She wondered what was going on in Brooke's mind. What she was holding back to protect her friends.

"Is this because of the stuff that happened with Victoria?"

Brooke shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. Maybe. I just feel like everything is out of control and I had to do something to get it back."

"Lucas mentioned you were having nightmares Brooke. With everything that's happened this past week it'd be normal for memories about the attack to resurface…"

Brooke's lips tightened and she averted her eyes, choosing to look out the window, "No. They have nothing to do with this. And I don't want to talk about that."

Her tone implying finality on the topic.

Haley studied her friend. At times like these Brooke looked so different. Every memory Haley had was of a cheery Brooke. Even during all the drama with Lucas and Peyton she had managed to retain an uplifting quality. A glass half full out look on what the future might hold. Now she wasn't sure what Brooke saw when she looked out the window. If she still managed to see the light of the setting sun or if her focus was on the growing darkness.

Haley smiled at her, "Well, you managed pretty well at Karen's back in the day so I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Thanks Haley."

"No problem Tigger," she paused before starting again, "You know I mentioned the psychologist earlier and I don't want you to think you can't talk to any one of us but maybe it'll be easier…"

Brooke shook her head, "I don't want to talk about it with anyone. I want it to just go away. I want to move on and try and be the person I used to be."

Haley nodded again. Brooke had always been independent. She had never leaned on anyone. She hated to admit that the few times Brooke had trusted others the trust had quickly been broken. Even she had been guilty of using Brooke.

She wanted to promise Brooke that she could trust them again, that relying on her friends would not take away from her independence. But Haley knew words meant nothing and that if she really wanted to help Brooke she would have to show her how important she was to their lives.

"I must sound like a broken record but if you really need anything or you need to talk about anything, just call me. 24/7."

Brooke gave her a genuine smile, "All I need are big tips so you guys better come in and visit me!"

Haley laughed, "I can do that."

She really wished Brooke would open up more but it was a start. Something's, like friendships, were easier to fix, while others, like a sense of trust, would take time. She just hoped Brooke was willing to understand that.

xxxx

Tonight, they're burning the roads they built to lead us to the light.
And blinding our hearts with their shining lies,
while closing our caskets cold and tight. But I'm dying to live.

xxxx

Dashboard Confessional lyrics

Thanks for reading. Someone from the past is going to be coming back in the next update—brownies for whoever guesses right! Please leave a review with thoughts.