Author's Note: I really don't like this one, but...oh well.

Day One-Hundred Eighty-Five: A Hundred Years from Now by Sharon Kenny

It was over.

All of it was finally over. All the fears about anonymous text messages, all the jumps whenever someone's phone beeped, the feeling that someone was always watching…that was all over now.

So why wasn't she happy?

This was all she and her friends had been dreaming of for years. Who even knew how long it was since things were normal? Certainly not Spencer Hastings.

And now everything was gone. Everything. Her sense of security, her family—who pretty much abandoned her—and not to mention all the people A had buried…they were all distant memories, and some, ashes.

All she had now was her words.

She never found words to be particularly interesting. They were just…there. Not because anyone wanted them to be there, but because they simply had to be. They were a form of communication. They had no use outside of that. She never saw how beautiful the words of Walt Whitman, E. E. Cummings…so many beautiful words were never taken for granted by her. Words were all she cared about now. Words were all she had. She was content with her words.

But was she really?

She was lacking something and she didn't even know it. She didn't even realize what she was missing. Companionship. She had no one. She only had her words. He noticed that. He didn't say anything; he just watched as she dove deeper into words, poetry, novels, epics…

"Spencer?" he had asked her as she read Hemingway. As cynical and pragmatic as he could sometimes be, she found solace in those kinds of words.

She looked up from Hemingway. Sometimes, she read for so long that she forgot how to speak.

"Are we ever going to talk about what happened?"

Sometimes, she got so far into another world with her reading that she had forgotten what had happened in the first place. But how could someone ever forget being stalked for God-knows how long? Not her. Unfortunately, she could never erase that part of her life. It was written in her own personal history book.

And what about him?

He was written in there, too. Although she wanted to erase that part of her life entirely, he could never be erased. She never wanted him to be a distant memory. He was the spine that bound her history book and held it all together. She hoped that he would be there for all her yesterdays.

"Do we have to?"

"You can't keep living like this."

There was shared silence. It felt like the whole world stopped. Even if just for a moment.

"It was hell. I just found myself thinking about how much easier death would be."

It wasn't hidden behind superfluous words. It was raw and it was there. Now it was out in the open. She had just said what she had been scared for so long to say.

He had nothing to give her and she knew that. She didn't want anything. She had nothing, anyway.

If only she knew how much he loved her. He would give her the world if he could.

But he couldn't. All he had to give her was his support.

He wrapped his arm around her and she buried her face in his shoulder. She was breaking and falling, what she'd been so scared to do for a long time. She knew it was coming, but she didn't want it to happen like this. Maybe she had been hoping—clinging onto false hope—and praying that it would never happen.

He was going to pick up the pieces of her heart.

She knew there was no other girl as lucky as her; she had survived and she had the unconditional support of someone who loved her.

MilaMizz: OMG BRB DYING that made me laugh so much. I know. This site is so informative it's like Sex ed. I'm glad you liked it and thanks! I have to get a stupid x-ray and damn I'm pissed because now my violin teacher is pissed because my doctor (like my DOCTOR) told me not to play for a week and see if it helps or something and now she's upset when I NEVER miss rehearsal and this year, I've come every single day on time. Just. Ugh.

Okay, I usually don't do this like call someone out, but has anyone heard from Sarah lately? I'm really worried about her. I just...ugh.

Yeah, I've been dealing with a lot of personal crap, too, in case any one was curious.

The next one-shot will be Yesterday by The Beatles. Beatles. Just for Alliecat. -Kayson