A/N: Make sure you don't skip any chapters!!

promiseˈ
prɒmɪs/
noun

a declaration or assurance that one will do something or that a particular thing will happen.

synonyms: word of honor, word, assurance, pledge, vow, guarantee, oath, bond, undertaking, agreement, commitment, contract, covenant, compact

When the sun starts to rise, we don't get up just yet. First, we marvel at the bright orange and red and yellow strokes of paint tinging the morning blue of the sky. For a moment, the world looks on fire. Like the horizon is bleeding out flame and color and we all get to burn with it.

But when the flaming colors burn out and is finally drowned by the growing blue ocean above, Jackson takes me home. The drive feels like I'm waking up from a dream. Like I've imagined the whole night and Jackson is going to laugh any moment and tell me I was drunk. It wasn't real.

"Tell me it's real," I accidentally beg.

Jackson glances at me with a content smile before getting his eyes back on the road. "It was all fake. You're delusional," Jackson jokes.

"I knew it..." I sigh.

"I'm taking you to the crazy-house."

"Not entirely a lie," I point out and Jackson chuckles at that.

I can't wait to be a writer. I can't wait to make enough money so that I can leave that too perfect little house and be on my own. Maybe not on my own... Maybe with Jackson?

"So, what are your plans now?" I ask Jackson.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what are you going to do now? Now that High School is over?"

"The plan is that I study Business."

"Not literature?"

Jackson shakes his head 'no'. It's sad really...

"Long ago I actually wanted to be an actor," Jackson admits.

"Whoa, what? An actor?!"

"Yup."

"Well, you have the looks and charm for it," I point out and regret it as soon as it leaves me.

Cue the cocky grin.

"Careful, Danny," Jackson smirks.

I suddenly have something unlocking inside of me. Like a level-up if my life was a game. And this new version of myself has a lot more guts than brains.

"No. I'm done with being careful. Screw the headlines! I'm going to go para-shooting or, or rock climbing in some undiscovered part of the world," I declare.

Jackson raises both eyebrows, "Now, you're getting it! Guess you don't need me anymore," he laughs.

I almost yell at him that I'll always need him, but this new level-up version of myself manages to get out a cocky grin. It's no where near Jackson's, but I have time to improve it. "Of course I'll need you. Who's going to carry all my bags and water during my adventures?" I ask and then gasp when another point enters my head, "WHO'S GOING TO MAKE MY PANCAKES?"

We both laugh like idiots for a full minute.

"Pancakes are easy to make. You can learn," Jackson says with a bit of a guilty look.

"I only want pancakes from you..." I whisper and that statement is bolder than it should be.

Jackson doesn't answer.

I decide right here in Betty that I refuse for Jackson and me to not be friends after he goes to university. And since I actually want to live, maybe, just maybe, we can have a future?

Jackson pulls in front of my creamy house. He opens the car-door for me and walks me to the front door of my house. With my magnificent green and gold dress, I feel like a princess. Like Cinderella, but only I didn't have to run away. I got the prince and I'm ready for that happily ever after. To ride off into the sunset, not on a white horse, but rather in an ugly yellow Jeep.

Betty's not that ugly, I tell myself. She has actually quite grown on me.

"Well, last night was great," Jackson says.

"Last night was one of the best night's of my life," I admit.

I want to tell him that every moment with him is the best moment I've ever had. I even want to tell him I might L-word him, but... But there's time for that in the future.

Jackson leans in and my world stops when he kisses my cheek. My heart is going crazy and I'm sure he can hear every single beat raging in my chest.

I want to kiss his lips...

Jackson pulls away and our eyes are locked as that spot on my cheek burns through everything I am. Burns brighter than the sunrise with it's violent colors of orange and red.

"Goodbye, Danny," Jackson greets.

My heart nearly breaks at how gentle he said it. Like I might actually mean the world to him too now that I'm alive. Officially alive.

"Goodbye, Jackson Palmer," I breathe.

After another moment of staring, Jackson leaves. He gets into Betty and yells: "Don't forget to stay alive!" as he drives off.

I don't know what to yell back so I say: "Don't forget I'll always need your pancakes!"

I can be such an idiot sometimes.

When Jackson is gone, I let out a breath. A breath that says I'm breathing. I'm alive. But even though I might be alive now, I still have my wall of eggshells and paper. I still can't tell people how I feel. And though I can try to deny it, I still have that ability to turn my emotions off.

I unlock the door and enter the house with my Mom and Bianca sitting at the kitchen table. Everything looks so much brighter. The white couches look radiant, the walls look like they've been cleaned, the kitchen looks fresh and even the very light in the room looks like it's new.

Mom has the biggest smile on her face, but Bianca looks grave.

"What is it?" I ask with real warmth and life in my voice.

"We're celebrating!" Mom exclaims.

Bianca stays quiet.

My first thought as I walk over is that we're celebrating, because I'm officially done with high school. It's an appropriate reason to celebrate, right? Why is Bianca looking so down? It's a new day. A new world, a new life and a new beginning. Bianca should stop looking so glum and embrace the gift of life with both hands.

I'm about to tell Bianca just that, but then my mother says the sentence that will change my whole fate.

"Congratulations! You got into Wellston!" my mother announces - popping a bottle of champagne.

And everything suddenly changes.

A memory plays through my mind. Not like in a flashback kind of way, bat rather this cruel little reminder. A sinister sticky-note against the fridge.

"So, Danielle, I applied you to Boston yesterday" Mom announced, and my down mood just lowered another six feet.

"I hope you didn't forget about our deal," Mom reminded me.

Yeah, how can I? The deal I made to sell my soul. Well not exactly soul, but basically. Mom gets one chance. One application for one university and if I get in, I must study law. Writing would just be a hobby.

"Danielle?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, I remember," I grumbled before unlocking my phone. I started to write on my notepad:

I'd just like to point out that I don't make promises often. I really don't, but for a good reason. I never break a promise. Not once. I can't. So right here, on Notepad, I'd like to make one of my rare promises.

If I get into that university... If I'm forced to stop being a writer, I'll force my heart to stop beating.

I took a deep breath before typing:

I'll kill myself with my dad's shiny Beaumont Adams revolver.

I really would.

And that's a promise.

The cruel memory stops playing, and this moment will be the start of my happily never after. The start of my end. The end of my life. The life of my nightmares. The nightmares of my reality. The reality of my next few choices.

Wrong choice number 1: Making that stupid promise in the first place.

I breathe in tight struggled breaths as my lungs begin choking, like the very air I'm inhaling is too polluted to live in. I see shadows growing darker and my eyes have to start squinting, like the light in this room is toxic. I feel a prickly feeling all over and I start to shiver, like it's getting too cold. I taste bile, like everything's turned poisonous. I smell death, like something's died. I am so... I am... I...

I need to get out of here!

Wrong choice number 2: Rushing to my room to pack.

I burst through my door and claw open my bag that I pull from the top of my closet. Violently, I chuck and smash and break clothes into my bag. I hunt down my toothbrush and pillage my room for necessities.

When my bag is gagged and silent and full to the brim, I rip off my beautiful dress. I leave it sprawled across the floor like the old me is still in it. A bruised corpse now. Because trust me, the Danielle from a few minutes ago and the Danielle now is not the same girl.

I throw on my black ripped jeans and a dark grey hoodie, like I'm taking them prisoner. Maybe I am. And I leave my boots on. I grab some money and with my phone in my pocket, storm downstairs.

"Danielle, wait! Danielle, what are you doing?" my mother yells when I rush past her. The champagne bottle suddenly forgotten.

Bianca steps in my way and grabs both my arms, "Danny, stop!" she begs.

She always calls me Danny when she's distressed.

"Danny, please don't do this. We can figure it out! Please don't walk out of that door!" my little sister begs.

"Danielle, I forbid you to leave this house!" my mother shouts.

I snip any trace of emotion about the same time I rip away my arms from my sister's grasp. I feel that hurricane of emotions violently thrash and fight inside the balloon that's always floating behind me.

Wrong choice number 3: Actually leaving.

It's funny how our choices determine so much. Like my long list of wrong choices that'll be following me.

I can never know for sure, but if I didn't make these three wrong choices. And if I don't make the few more that are to come, perhaps death won't steal my future. Maybe, a funeral isn't due.

But in the end, I'll make those wrong choices that's coming.

This town will have tears to shed.

And black to wear. 

Hey golden cabbages...

So.... I warned y'all it's gunna get rocky lol. But alas, there's still 8 chapters left. Maybe Holly shows mercy. Maybe not. Who knows.

How would you like this book to end?

Please remember to vote!!! This book is so close to my soul. And of course as always, stay golden, stay cabbage!!

~ Holly Shmit