Chapter 6: Crash

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. And thanks for telling me the letter was sappy but good :D. I have so many ideas for this story. Although you will probably hate me for some of them. But yay! Now we know there will be physical smitchie! Ps the painting later on is from this ballroom I was once at in chicago and so on.....

Mitchie threw the note book on to the couch and ran out.

She had to get that piece of paper.

She ran to the front of the window.

And looked down.

And was met with a pile of crumpled papers.

But which one was hers.

She sighed, bent down and started digging.

Shane was in the middle of a ballroom.

Just staring at the paintings up above.

And the sparkling chandeliers.

He continued to stare at one painting of a beautiful woman.

Wearing a long flowing white cloth.

Her brunette tresses flowing with the cloth.

One arm pointed towards a chandelier.

And the other holding the white cloth around her.

Her eyes were closed.

But her lips red and perfect.

Up above her was a picture of a hunter.

With a bow and arrow.

But the arrow was no longer in his hands.

It was fixed in the beautiful womans chest.

She was dead.

And he had killed her.

A chandelier sparkled as he stared at her.

As he stared at the arrow fixated in her chest.

And he wished he was watching the chandelier sparkle instead.

Instead of staring at the blood on her lips.

And the arrow in her heart.

Mitchie smiled as she opened up a piece of paper.

And found it was the right one.

She sighed in relief pressing it to her chest.

She had it.

She had the precious page.

The precious page with her song.

That Shane had written for her.

Not Ryan.

It was safe.

With her.

And she will keep it that way.

She just wished that she had let Nate in.

Or else she probably still wouldnt be alone.

She could be with someone else.

Another human being that actually cared about her.

Her eyes filled with tears at that thought.

She is still alone.

No friends.

No one to love.

Nothing.

No Hillary.

No Caitlyn.

And worst of all.

No Shane.

And it was all her fault.

And she hated that.

She was alone.

Forever.

She folded up the paper.

Put it in her pocket.

And tried to hold back the light tears brimming in her eyes.

She had finally crashed.

And it wasnt fun.

She wished she was just a nobody again.

She wished she was just that girl who had posters of everything and anything plastered on her walls.

The girl that just had a small room.

And a small house.

But a good life.

Crashing isnt a fun thing.

And she just wanted it to end.

But for her.

It will probably never end.

She didnt like crashing.

Crashing meant facing reality.

And realize things.

She had every material possession ever.

But she had nothing at all.

And now all she had.

Was a crash.