I began writing this chapter 3 weeks ago, but its taken me that long to be extremely happy with it. This is the second to last chapter, well sort of, unless I make the next chapter an epilogue. Oh and some major things! Make sure you go to my profile and watch the trailer I made for this story and also the playlist I created with all the songs I've used for each chapter and also that inspired me to write. There's two links on my main page so make sure you check them out. Oh and something that I'm obsessing over- if you start to search "missing in imagination" on Google, all my Fanfiction stuff comes up on that drop down menu. Even Voices! I guess that means people are actually searching for me on Google? Pretty cool!
I don't own anything!

Towards the Sun
Chapter 6

Come on, come on
You have got to move on
This is not the you I know
This isn't real, it's just all you can feel
And that's the way that feelings go

He gently stands over her. Her breaths, finally slow and deep, rise and fall like a wave that rolls along a shallow shore. He patiently waits for her to come alive as if just the fluttering of her eyelids would signal the return of a lively, brilliant girl.

As broken as she is, she does appear to be whole. Like a doll, she is wound into the crisp white blankets with her hair fanned out around her. Her face is flushed with heat and emblazoned with the sticky skin of the night's tears. Last night still lingers over both of their heads- it stabs at his heart and rips apart her mind. At this moment she appears to be content, but it's her clenched fists and wet eyelids that tell otherwise.

Liam pauses from his helpless watch over her to continue his previous work. Hushed and dismayed, he moves about the room picking up their scattered belongings and packing them inside their bags. He moves by the window and sees Parisians passing by in a continuous flog of routine and haste. It is fascinating, to watch people rush by and run through life, as if that in fact is normal- but it shouldn't be. He continues, and at Miley's bedside he finds the alarm clock twisted around and shoved into the wall. The fluorescent light had given her a migraine last night, as she forced herself to fall asleep after her outpouring of emotions. She had stared at it in the darkness for hours. She had watched the digits click and change shape, until it was her, in her dreams, who could change at the click of a passed minute. Who could move gracefully with time.

He turns the clock around; it reads 7:28. He gained five hours of sleep last night, at the most. He pushes it away as his knuckles brush against thickly bound paper and leather. He looks down and finds a matted, old journal- black, scuffed, and frayed at the edges. Liam had caught her many times writing in it, both before and during their trip. At those moments, she is completely fixed on her words with her brows furrowed and her tongue pressed against her cheek, as she fills the pages with confessions and claims that she, in her right mind, feels are better left unsaid. He picks it up and with no intentions of being invasive, he opens it.

Two objects fall to the ground and he quickly bends down to pick them up. One is a Polaroid. He smiles brightly, as an image of Miley and him appear before his eyes. Their faces, tan and tired, shine beneath the setting of the Mexican sun. He remembers when Miley took this; when they were on the boat and spoke with the couple who had realized who she was but continued to treat her normally. She never revealed it, but he knew how happy that made her.

He recognizes the second object and with confusion, flips it over. It is the post card that she had bought to write to her family. It is fully written with her message, labeled with the address and everything, however it clearly remains unsent- even after she had told him she mailed it at the airport. It doesn't make sense to him but with her sudden adjustment of sleeping position in the bed beside him, he quickly places the photo and postcard inside her journal and puts it inside her bag.

He holds his breath, watching her wearily. Her eyes squeeze tightly, and then flicker, gradually entering the real world again. Her hands leave their clutch on the pillow and rest upon her face. All is silent and breathless until her broken voice calls out forsakenly. "Liam.." she murmurs, muffled by the palm of her hands and in a second, he is by her side.

He drags himself up the bed so that his back rests against the headboard and so he can pull her against his chest. She lets out a shaky, painful exhale and closes her eyes to the gentle brush of his fingertips through her hair. They dwell like this for a desperate moment, wordless and soft, and his lips reach for her forehead and stay there.

"It's my turn to choose where we go next."

When the cloud in the sky starts to pour
And your life is just a storm you're braving
Don't tell yourself you can't lean on someone else
Cause we all need saving sometimes

The plane drops, drifting through the clouds like a feather falling through the sky. The sun is yellow and bright, and its golden hands guide them across the miles of blank, dark blue sea. From an altitude it looks like a sheet of black ice, untouched and pure, but as they inch closer to land, small tufts of white-top waves curl across the vast emptiness and Miley counts them, with her head pressed against the small window and her lips whispering at the expanse of it all.

She has no idea as to where this plane is taking her; she just knows that she has put her entire trust in Liam, hoping that he will take her where she needs to go. He's allowed her to be silent for the duration of the 10 hour plane ride; except for her stern "no" when the flight attendant asked her if she wanted something to eat. Her insides felt empty at this hour, screaming at her to be filled, but she ignores the feeling- she wants to feel the void.

But every now and then, her fingertips crawl across her lap and she holds his hand. Her eyes, still gazing outside the window, warm a bit and in the reflection of the thick glass he can see a slight smile- a glimmer of hope- that assures him that with time, she will heal. And then, her eyes falter and with the heat of the sun over her shoulder, she naps and gains the hours she lost last night and the sleep she has been deprived of for years. Mid-afternoon, she is fast asleep again and her body seems to appear much lighter than before as if with the plane, she has been lifted too. He watches her, like he had this morning, and although the stab of worry and concern still pains him, hope is taking over.

With Miley, Liam realizes, it isn't a matter of finding her breath- it's to keep her breathing. To keep her going strong, walking with her head held high, until the day she can repel the impressionable forces that society has put upon her. She will be able to do this, he reasons, but only after her thoughts have come full circle. When she too feels the strength that he has always seen. When she, above all things, can be comfortable. As the rise and fall of her chest wallows in the soft hum of the airplane, he discovers such a strong feeling in his chest. It puts his heart in a race and music in his ears, and the only explanation he can find is that of true devotion- to her.

Back in Miley's mind of sleeping dreams, things are quite tranquil…

(in her mind)

There is a certain way the sea looks after a storm. The horizon is always blurred and the separation between sky and water disappears. It looks as if you are looking out into one giant expanse of white fog where the word is boundless. Miley feels as if she is standing in the middle of a cloud and floating in the hands of a god.

Her hair, combed and smooth, sways with the way of the breeze and brushes against her pale pink cheeks. Where tears had furiously poured out of her eyes in her dream world the night before, now there is dry skin, salted with sea spray and speckled with sand. She feels weightless and smiles at the sun that is slowly appearing through the depths of the sky. It warms her shoulders and the marks on her back from the wind that had sliced her and the scars on her heart from the voices that had beaten her down.

Miley turns away from the pearl grey sea. Everything is silent, except for the sound of sand flattening beneath bare feet. She awakens her glossy eyes and she watches as her family fades into the shadowed space before her, as if they had just passed through different dimensions. Their faces all have a single expression of peace and amity and that alone, makes the fear of their appearance fade from Miley's mind.

"We never meant the things we said, Miley,"
they glide toward her, reaching for her beneath the shadows.

"We love you,"

"And we miss you,"
her mother steps out of the heavy shade with her silvery gold hair flowing around her.

Her dad smiles, calm and patient,
"Come home, Bud."

She feels a feathery touch on her shoulder and it's Liam and she feels strong.
"Come home."

Come home, come home, come home

She awakes to the light of the sun shining through the window where her head rests. She releases a long, airy breathe and moves her hands to her neck then to her face to rub her eyes. She sighs again and pats her hands down on her knees satisfyingly and looks to her left. Liam is asleep, snoring quite embarrassingly which makes her laugh (for the first time in a while) and she reaches over to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. He stirs and his eyes flutter open to her glistening expression and she looks- could it be?- happy.

"Hey," he says groggily and stretches. He's shocked by her sudden change in mood, almost scared to touch her, and waits for her to speak because he honestly does not know which words he should say.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," she states, "Before the plane lands."

"Alright," he answers, watching her suspiciously, "Be careful."

With a nod of her head, she unbuckles her seatbelt and squeezes past him. Liam watches her as if in a trance, wondering if he ever actually woke up.

When Miley had decided to get up to go to the bathroom, she didn't realize that she had to walk the entire length of the plane to get there. People. Faces. Opinions. Questions. She swallows hard and takes a step forward. She walks quickly, avoiding eye contact with anybody but the floor, until she arrives at the unoccupied bathroom, slides through the small door, and locks it tight.

She looks over her shoulder and catches herself in the mirror. She turns towards it and again, she lets out a long sigh. She stares at herself thoroughly, looking at her image as if seeing a long-lost friend for the first time in years. She sees how her hair, unkempt and lacking a shower, falls around her face; covering her. She takes the bobby pin in her jean pocket and pulls it away from her eyes. Then, she turns on the faucet and splashes a palm of cold water onto her skin, washing away some of the eyeliner that is still smudged under her eyes.

And then, she looks a little deeper and recalls her dream. She revives her feelings of acceptance and comfort and remembers the way her dad called her "bud" like he used to when she was 13 years old, or how her mother's big eyes begged her to move forward. She was tricked into believing that she had torn them apart when really, it was her who kept them together.

She never mailed the postcard because she didn't want her family to know where she was, what she was up to, or how he felt. Because for once this was for her and not for anybody else; not for a record company, a movie producer, or her career. It was for her life, her state of mind, and her well-being it was for her and Liam's relationship, more proof for why he was the one to love and trust whole-heartedly; who would actually care for her and put the broken pieces back together. One who would take her pride and leave her genuine and cool. This was for her life after the fame and glory- to know that there are other options and goals and dreams, that she doesn't have to stay in Hollywood to be followed forever. Miley, like all people, has the power to choose a pathway and direct herself through it at her own pace and will. Miley can be anything.

"I can be anything," she restates aloud, boldly looking at herself through the mirror, "This is my life."

With that, she unlocks the bathroom door and slides it open. She takes a deep breath, and turns towards the aisle. She walks down but keeps her head held high, dismissing her fear of the people that tries to rack her brain. She catches the eye of one specific person- a girl who appears to be her same age- and instead of cowering away and praying to all gods that she won't recognize her, Miley smileys softly. The girl smiles back, quietly and reverently, and so Miley continues on her way to her seat.

"from the center of my life ,there came a great fountain" (Eat, Pray, Love)

She had been on this beach before. The air is cooler now and the sky a little grayer, but through her eyes it is still the same. Stingrays is still a short walk down the street- they had stopped to eat there once they arrived- and where they had filmed a few scenes is just to the right of them. When Miley had realized Liam had taken her to Tybee Island, she jumped into his arms in the middle of the Savannah Airport. The wholeness she felt overwhelmed her and that moment- that day- could not have felt more perfect. It was as if he had wrapped a bandage around her body and soul; and the healing began.

They are now shuffling along the water's edge. The tide creeps up at their bare feet and washes away their footprints, dragging shells against the sand.

"You know.. I feel like I've just gone back in time," she says and kicks at the sand, "Like I just re-lived the first time I came here."

Last summer she was sobbing on her mom's lap, counting the miles that distanced her further and further away from L.A. She arrived with a broken heart after ending things with Justin, and felt thrown into something that she had never experienced before. She was scared and it had showed on her face the first day he met her. But he was happy to know that by the time August came around, she was really happy with the person she came out as.

He keeps walking beside her and, holding her hand, tries to speak his words as gently as possible. "Since last night.." he begins, "It looks like you've changed a lot, in just a few hours. Why?"

"My dreams," she states blankly.

"What'd the voices say this time?"

"They told me to come home."

She stops mid-step and drops to the sand, pulling her knees to her chin. "I'm not going to worry anymore. You shouldn't worry, you know?" She looks up and asks him straight in the eye; he sits down next to her and listens. "Cause really- if you think about it- nothing is important enough to get stressed out about. We all are born, we all die, no matter what happens. So why should I sit here and think about it? It's like I'm too busy wondering if I'm living my life to all its potential to even attempt to live life at all. It's stupid how we think like that."

Liam looks at her and then out at the water. And he begins to say what he wanted her to know since day one of their adventure, but waited for her to realize it for herself. "I think that.. a person's biggest mistake may be believing that their true self is hidden, waiting to be found in some faraway place," Miley stares straight ahead and suddenly, tears come as she listens, "Maybe it's just waiting for you at your doorstep until you come home."

Miley pushes her toes deeper into the sand and just watches. She watches details that often go unlooked, like the way the water wets the sand then fades away, seeping through the pores, falling through the earth. How a single seagull scours the land recklessly against the heat of the sun. How Miley's heart is still beating strong at the sight of this familiar sea and love- young and wild- sitting beside her. The tears that tumble down her cheeks aren't furious and thick, as they were last night. They simply slide, smooth and light. They are the surrender she's been looking for this whole time. Like friends, they whisper comforting words, they tell her 'it is okay' 'the storm is over' 'you can breathe, it is safe to go home'. They drip down her chin and fall into the sand and as this happens, she silently watches her worries liquefy in the sand she's surrounded by.

As humans we are constantly unsatisfied. There will always be a vision in the distance- how unattainable it may seem- that beckons to us and calls our names deceivingly. Society has influenced us to believe that you must never be content, strive for more, spend your money and work for more. But this journey that most go on to discover themselves is not selfless and brave. It is cowardly, as we flee from that which haunts us. Instead of escaping what you do not like, you must evaluate what it is that causes this unhappiness and find ways to change it. Sometimes all you have to do is step outside, take a deep breath, and remind yourself who you are and who you truly want to be- not run away. Because at the end of your travels, you still have to come home- it's what you bring home with you that's important.

Liam finds her hand and pulls her to her feet. He brushes the sand off her back and runs his thumb beneath her wet eyes and smiles. She smiles back. In that moment, they saw themselves for who they truly are. They saw a home.

Why the miles? Why a road trip, plane ticket, or sail? Why is that we look for ourselves elsewhere, far beyond our reach, when we should be searching within. There is no greater version of ourselves than the one that hides in the depths of our soul. Your heart can carry you miles away to lands of unusual causes however it is your soul that makes the evaluation. It decides which people, places, and experiences are worthy of causing change.

And although we are never satisfied, that is what makes it alright to be human- the fact that we are constantly moving and evolving. The tears we cried last night will not be the same that we will cry today, tomorrow, or next year. It always leaves room for improvement.

So what is self-discovery anyway? Is it traveling miles in a hunt to see yourself eye-to-eye? Is it a desperate chase for purpose? Or maybe people leave because they don't like the person they see; and they believe that somewhere in the world is our replica, who is all that we dream we should be. That person who lives fearlessly, with courage and with heart. Who is inspired and artful. Breathing openly. Always smiling. Confident and true. Beautiful and unique, gracious and fringing to both yourself and others. The problem though, is that you can't be sure of anything until you see it for yourself and even then, you may as well find yourself blind in the face of enlightenment.

At the end of the journey it is not a new version of ourselves that we have obtained- it is the same person that we've been staring so unhappily in the mirror all along, but who has now developed through experiences and exposure to unfamiliarity. And for whatever reason, under the strange basis of human perspective, that makes everything okay again.

Life isn't about finding yourself- it's about creating yourself.

Miley brushed sand off her elbow, closed her eyes, and breathed. For the first time in a long while, she was ready to go home.