My hands shook as I scrubbed the last of the eggs from my skin. I had deserved that, I knew I did, but it didn't make it hurt any less. It had to have been Bria and Noah and some of their other friends. The friends who also used to be my friends. They were probably the ones who had tripped me at lunch as well, and the ones who were gossiping about me in biology.

After my shower I pulled on my pajamas and flopped onto my bed, my arms outstretched. This year would be horrible, I knew it would be. There was no denying the fact that all my old friends hated me, on top of their lingering ache for Matt. Add my practically non-existent parents to the list and finish it off with a strong addiction to drugs and I was one shot short of a wack-job.

I hissed through my teeth. I had to go buy tonight. I wouldn't last until tomorrow morning without it, and I certainly wouldn't be able to get through the entire school day either.

When my feet hit the ground I was already undressed and I tugged on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt as I stumbled towards my dresser. I went to the bottom drawer and reached all the way to the back and felt for the broken board. I always stashed all my money back there and I produced a handful, counting out $100. This much could last me around three days, but it also usually cleared out the money I had "saved" from my parents' charity. My parents may have been rich, but they would know something was up if I took their money and they had no proof of things I bought with it.

I stuffed the money into my pocket and grabbed my keys off my desk as I headed out my door. When I reached the kitchen I grabbed an apple off the counter and strode out to my car. I hadn't bothered cleaning the eggs off; it was forecasted to rain the next day.

I jumped in my car and turned into the street and towards the shadiest part of town. It seemed like a bad place to buy, but I trusted my dealer. He had never jipped me before and I didn't foresee him doing it anytime soon.

When I got close to the bar I parked a few streets down, in case anyone were to drive by and see my car and come look for me.

I stepped out of my car and locked the doors, glancing around in the dim lamp-light. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I walked quickly and with my head down. The rush that came with the fear of buying and getting caught was almost as good as the rush from the injection itself and I relished in it as I climbed the stairs to the apartments above the bar.

I rapped on the door three times, paused, then twice more, though Devin had to have known I was coming. He was usually quite good at remembering when I would run out. I provided him with steady business.

The door opened slowly and Devin's girlfriend's face appeared in the crack.

"Ya?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, she had always recognized me and let me in before. "I'm here to see Devin," I replied, and she opened the door wider, stepping aside to let me in. She flicked her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and stared at me.

"Amelia?" I heard from the other room, and I gave his girlfriend one last look before scurrying towards the sound of his voice.

Devin was seated at the kitchen table, carefully weighing each bag. Just the sight made my heart lurch.

"Out already?" He asked, not turning to look at me.

"Uh, yeah?" He was usually really good about knowing when I would be out.

"You're a day early," He said, finally turning to glance at me, a bundle of bags in his outstretched hand.

I quickly snatched them and replaced them with my wad of cash.

"No I'm not," I said, making Devin chuckle.

"Sweet girl. The longer you use, the more it will take to reach your high. You've been using more than you expected, eh?"

I bit my lip. Of course. My body was getting used to it. It was one of the simplest things I was ever taught in health class.

"Right," I said, taking a step back towards the door. I would be back here much sooner than I had originally anticipated.

"See you in a day or two," Devin said with a wink before he turned back to the table.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and turned on my heel, stumbling towards the door. Blondie glared at me and as soon as I was outside she slammed the door shut and I heard the unmistakable sound of a lock sliding into place.

Something seemed a bit off, more so than my increasing addiction, and the feeling of a presence made my hair stand on edge, so I fled quickly, my bags tucked safely into my bra.

Usually the trip here invigorated me, but tonight it just made me tired, so I drove home quickly and was relieved when I pulled back into my driveway. As I stepped into the house though, I froze. The refrigerator door was open and someone was rummaging around inside. I glanced towards the ground and let out a sigh of relief when I saw my mother's heels peeking out the bottom of the door.

"Close the door Amelia," I heard my father's voice bark at me and I quickly shut the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and after a moment tossed them into the closet.

"I didn't know you were going to be home tonight," I said, moving towards the kitchen. My parents had left me money, which usually meant they weren't going to be home and I had to figure out dinner for myself, so it was strange that they were both here.

My father was sitting at the dining room table, papers strewn across it, his laptop in front of him, his fingers furiously tapping the keys.

"Where were you?" My mother asked, her back to me, ignoring my previous statement.

"I was out," I replied, narrowing my eyes.

"Out where?" She asked, finally turning to look at me, one hand planted on her hip, her meticulously painted nails shimmering in the light. She wasn't really looking at me though, she was more looking past me. My parents didn't look at me much anymore the way they used to. In fact, I'd bet that if I chopped all my hair off or dyed it a crazy color they wouldn't even notice.

"Out," I said with finality.

My mother sighed heavily and turned back to the stove, stirring a pot that was sitting on the burner.

"Today was my first day of school," I said, leaning against the counter. I could tell from the silence that neither of them had even remembered I was still in school.

"How was it?" My father asked after a moment, and I shrugged in response.

"Amelia," My mother grunted. "Answer your father."

I clenched my jaw.

"It was great," I said with mock enthusiasm. "Everyone hates me now, I gave Alexander Wood a ride, and I smoked pot with Lane."

I glanced back and forth between my parents, but neither of them even perked up slightly at my last statement; I had figured they weren't listening. Not that it was much of a surprise. They only listened when they wanted to. I bit back a dry laugh and ran my fingers through my hair, incredibly aware of the bags of heroin stashed in my bra.

"I'm going to go to my room," I said, heading towards the stairs.

"Amelia. No. Dinner's almost ready. Set the table."

"But Dad's got his stuff all over the table," I protested, but once again she had tuned me out, a skill I wish I had acquired. My parents used to be cool and all my friends loved them, but now I was too scared to have anyone over. Though it wasn't like I had friends to invite over anyways. Maybe I could invite Lane for a family dinner some night. Then maybe my parents would see me.

In the meantime though, I got out three bowls and some silverware. When I turned towards the table I expected to see it still covered with my father's things, but I was surprised to see it almost completely cleared off, my father removing the rest of his paperwork. With my eyes wide I slowly went over to the table and began setting out the bowls.

"No one hates you and your pot joke wasn't very funny. Assuming it was a joke, right?" my father said quietly, making me almost drop the silverware. Maybe I wasn't as ignored as I felt.

My mother brought over the pot of soup and set it on a hot pad on the table. She nodded for my father and I to sit down, and we did.

These family dinners almost made me feel like we were a family again. Almost. It was easy for our eyes to trail to the unoccupied seat at the table across from me. It was easy for us to remember Matt's animated stories about something that had happened at school that day. And it was hard for us to forget and move on.

Now our dinners were silent, save for the occasional buzz of a cell phone or a spoon accidentally scraping along the bottom of a bowl. My parents were both engrossed in their world of work and I was left to be engrossed in my own world of nothing. I missed having things to do when my parents were AWOL. I missed having people I could turn to. But I had screwed that up for myself; no one else had done that for me. My last day at the beach replayed in my head and a layer of guilt laid over me. Bria and Noah were still together, or at least I hoped they were. I hadn't paid much attention to them at school. I couldn't stand the thought that I could have broken up their relationship.

More than that though, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal, not directed towards me, but instead from me. Bria had begged me to keep the abortion a secret. She hadn't wanted Noah to be upset and she couldn't stand the thought of her family finding out. She had told me I was the only one she could tell. I was the one who brought her to the clinic and took care of her after. Then I was the one who spilled the beans in a selfish act meant to make myself feel better. But in fact, it made me feel worse. And that night was the first night I ever cut myself.

I tiptoed up to my room, stumbling slightly up the stairs. I knew I shouldn't have drove home, but I had no one to call to pick me up. Besides, I could take care of myself. In my drunken stupor though, the image of Bria's heartbroken face tore through me and I could feel the sobs beginning to rise in my chest. Leaning against the wall I made my way into my bedroom and shed my sundress. I tripped over a pile of clothes on my way to the bathroom and stumbled inside, sitting on the edge of the bathtub with a loud thunk. I turned and grabbed my razor, barely aware of my own actions. I just need a bit of physical pain to take away my emotional pain.

With a bit of a struggle I was able to remove one of the blades from the razor and I held it above my thigh in a shaking hand. Tears dripped onto my skin as I let the blade cut into my flesh and I bit my lip to stop from crying out in pain.

The alcohol in my system was slightly numbing, but it made the blood flow and I watched the trail of hot, sticky blood run down my thigh and pool between my legs on the edge of the tub. My thigh hummed with pain and I raised the blade to my arm, letting the sharp blade cut a small line along my inner forearm. I hissed and held my arm to my chest, watching the blood seep into my favorite white bikini.

I let the sobs come now and as they worked their way through me I grabbed the first aid kit out of my medicine cabinet. I shoved some gauze on the cuts and wrapped them up, my heart beating wildly. Fear set in as I began to realize what I had just done.

With shaking hands I untied my bikini top and shoved it into the garbage, followed closely by my bottoms. I hobbled out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, sliding into bed, naked.

I had just killed the old Amelia.

I closed my eyes with a sigh. The worst part about the whole thing was that I still wanted to be that girl. I wanted to be surround by friends, have plans every night, and maybe act a bit snarky. I wanted the underclassmen to jump out of the way when they saw me coming down the halls, in fear of my popularity and near-perfect appearance, not in fear of my plummet to the bottom of the food chain.

I cried then. I cried for my brother. I cried for my old friends. I cried for my old self. I cried because I had lost my naivety. I had lost my parents and my family and my entire life. But it wasn't because Matt was dead. It was because I had let myself fall deeper and deeper every day. And as my fingers found the blade which was stashed in the nightstand beside my bed, I cried for the pain and the loss and the longing.

I awoke the next morning groggy and still in pain. As I pushed myself and leaned back against my headboard I grimaced. Crusted blood covered my forearm and the sheets beneath me. The clock beside my bed read 5:49 and I let out a sigh, though it might not have been so bad to miss school.

It took me a few moments to get enough strength to push myself out of bed and stumble towards the bathroom. I flipped on the water and held my arm beneath the stream, wincing in pain. I carefully rubbed my fingers along my arm, watched the blood disappear down the drain. After I was cleaned I dried my arm and grabbed some gauze from the drawer. I placed it on my arm and tapped it tightly so there was no chance of it falling off during the day.

I stumbled through the rest of my morning routine in a daze. I spent so much time though relishing in the high of the needle that by the time I finally came to the clock read 8:00 and I swore under my breath. I tugged on leggings and a sweatshirt and dashed down the stairs. I shoved my feet into my shoes and stepped outside, wincing as I accidentally slammed the door shut behind me, even though there was probably no one home to hear it.

As I tossed my bag into my car, I hopped in and started the engine. I peeled into the road, but not before checking for traffic. As I slowed to a halt at the same stop sign where Alexander hit me with his car I checked my mirror, making sure no one was coming up behind me. No one was.

I drove a bit faster than normal and managed to reach the school in record time. The first bell was just ringing as I was getting out of my car and dashing towards the building. If I was late then all eyes would be on me as I entered the room and I had already managed to draw too much attention to myself the day before. I was so not up for a round two.

Thankfully though I slipped into my seat just as the second bell rang and I let out a sigh of relief. A few people had glanced at me as I came in, but mostly everyone had been out of their seats and talking.

"Alexander," a girl towards the front of the room crooned, turning around in her seat. "I saw you got a new car! It's a jeep right?"

I slid farther down in my seat and watched Alexander shift slightly in his.

"Yeah," He grunted and the girl, Isabelle, grinned at him.

"What happened to your old truck? And how did you afford a new one? It's so new!"

I watched Alexander's shoulder twitch. He was uncomfortable, anyone could see that. But it was only a conversation about cars, no reason to be uncomfortable.

"It broke down. My dad bought it for me."

"You're so lucky Alexander. I wish my family was rich enough to buy me a brand new car."

Bingo. He was self-conscious about his parents' wealth. I was just beginning to feel good about correctly identifying the issue when I felt Isabelle's gaze slid over to me.

"It's just a shame that some people's families have money, but their kids don't appreciate it."

I swallowed. How had I managed to be sucked into the conversation? It wasn't a secret that my family had more than enough money, but it wasn't like I flaunted it.

As I slid even further down in my seat and felt the heat of eyes on me I realized that I was not getting out of the spotlight this year, no matter how much I wanted to.

Thankfully though Mr. Kinley walked in and the class fell silent.

"Good morning everyone!" Mr. Kinley said, his face splitting into a huge grin. I wanted to swoon like the rest of the girls, but I was focused on something else, someone else. And his name was Alexander Wood.

I avoided the "It" table as I made my way out to the patio, a sandwich in my hand, though I knew I probably wouldn't eat it. I didn't eat much now, not that it was much of an issue for me. I just simply wasn't hungry.

Lane glanced up at me as I approached and held his hand out, a joint clutched between his fingers. I slammed my sandwich into the garbage can and grabbed the joint, pressing it between my lips.

I handed the joint back and leaned against the wall beside Lane, closing my eyes.

A few moments later someone was nudging me and I opened my eyes.

"I think someone's here for you," Lane said softly, motioning with his head.

I turned and was surprised to see Alexander walking towards us, looking extremely uncomfortable.

I quickly took another hit then shrugged at Lane as I pushed off the wall and headed over to intercept Alexander.

"Amelia," He said, glancing over my shoulder at Lane. "Can I talk to you?"

I tried to keep myself from looking to confused as I nodded and let Alexander lead me around the corner, out of the sight of the people on the patio.

"Is something...wrong?" I asked after a moment and Alexander shook his head.

"No. Sorry I, uh, well I just wanted to thank you again for giving me a ride yesterday."

I cocked my head to the side. I had a hard time believing Alexander came all the way out to tell me thanks.

"You're welcome?" I replied, though it came out as more of a question.

"Well I wanted to invite you to a party this weekend," Alexander began and I bit back a laugh. Alexander Wood was inviting me to a party. Was I a pity project now? Or was he in on the joke too?

"I don't know," I said softly.

"Yeah. That's fine. I mean, I bet you have other plans."

I choked back another dry laugh.

A strand of loose hair fell into my face and as I reached up to brush it away from my eyes the sleeve of my sweatshirt slid down my arm. I froze as Alexander's eyes jumped to my exposed arm. His fingers wrapped around my wrist and before I could process what was happening he had turned my arm so my scars faced up and slid my sleeve up even further, revealing the bandage I had just put on this morning.

"Amelia," He said, his voice barely above a whisper. As his fingers traced along the scars, some old and some new, I couldn't pull my hand away. I couldn't move at all. I could only muster out a single word.

"Please."

After what seemed like an eternity Alexander tugged my sleeve down to my wrist and dropped my hand, his gaze meeting mine.

"Don't tell anyone. Please," I croaked. He merely blinked in response.

"I really hope you can come on Friday," He said softly. I felt him slide a piece of paper into my hand before he stepped around me and walked away.

With shaking hands I slowly unfolded the paper.

112 Parker Trail

Friday at 7

I stuffed the paper into my sweatshirt pocket and took a deep breath before I turned and walked back towards the patio, trying to ignore the fact that Alexander was so adamant on me coming that he had taken the time to write out his address and the time of the party. I didn't want to be a joke, and even worse than that, I didn't want to be a victim of his pity, which were the only two reasons I could imagine he invited me. Though now I had just given him more fuel to the fire; my scars.

Lane's eyes met mine and I must have looked pretty messed up because he immediately handed me the joint and didn't ask for it back.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring into my closet. I was sure I was going crazy. Alexander hadn't met my gaze the last two days of school and here I was, trying to figure out something to wear to a party. No one had said anything about me cutting, so I figured Alexander hadn't said anything, but I was still on edge anytime his friends looked at me, afraid of what they would say to me.

I had doubled my usual intake and was glad for the lingering affects of the high buzz coursing through my system. I would have to go see Devin sooner than usual once again, but I didn't really care. I would do whatever it took to keep myself hollow.

When the clock finally flipped to 7:00 I let out a heavy sigh and slid into a pair of ripped, boyfriend-style jeans and a black shirt with tight sleeves and a deep v-neck. I couldn't have anyone else seeing me the way Alexander did the other day, but maybe I could have someone see me.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I murmured to the empty house as I strode out of my room and bounded down the stairs. I was supposed to be keeping a low-profile, and obviously was doing a horrible job at it thus far. Though I knew that this party was probably just some stupid ploy to get me out of my house and around a lot of people so whoever had it out for me could humiliate me.

A part of me thought I was only going because I figured I deserved to be humiliated, but deep down, I knew it was because I wanted back in. I wanted my old friends, my old life. Which was, of course, impossible, but it didn't hurt to dream sometimes.

My feet slid into my boots and I leaned down to tuck the bottoms of my jeans inside. This wasn't the outfit I was used to wearing to parties, I was wearing about twice the amount of clothes I had once worn to go out, and I was surprised to find that I was okay with it; in fact, I felt more comfortable.

"Amelia. Come on. We're going to be late."

I rolled my eyes, forcing back a groan. "Bria. I'm almost ready. Some of us don't already have boyfriends so we need to look our best to impress the boys." I peeked my head around the doorframe to wink at Bria. She rolled her eyes, but I swore I could see a hint of a smile cross her lips.

"Besides," I continued, dipping my brush back into my eyeshadow palette. "No one cool shows up on time anyways. The party doesn't really start at seven."

After I finished my makeup I checked over myself for what seemed like the millionth time, making sure my outfit was perfect. My thin, grey crop top showed off the lacy red bra beneath, which was pushing up the perfect amount of cleavage. My midriff was perfectly tanned, but I only left an inch or two showing before the waistband of my shorts began. I had to leave something to the imagination. Boys liked easy, but they also liked a bit of a challenge.

"Okay," I said finally, stepping out of the bathroom. "Let's go."

I looked up the stairs, half expecting Matt to come slinking around the corner, ready to tease Bria and I about whatever "lame" high school party we were on our way to while he was "hitting up the real stuff" at college parties.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips and my hands lurched up to cover my mouth. I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed. The sound was foreign to me and a new wave of sadness washed over me. Suddenly I wished I had Lane's number so I could smoke before I went to the party, but there was no time now. The clock told me I was moving out of the "showing up fashionably late" phase and into the "now it's just rude" phase. Before I could think too hard about anything else I pushed open the door and stepped into the garage, walking faster than normal to get to my car.

As I pulled onto the road I found myself reaching down to turn on the radio. It had always been Bria and my ritual to get pumped up before we actually arrived by blasting music with the windows down. I didn't blast the music, and I didn't roll down the windows, but I did turn the radio up just above what would be considered a normal volume.

When I finally pulled my car over I was surprised to find both sides of the long, winding driveway completely packed with cars. A few stragglers were heading inside and I scolded myself for showing up so late. It was past eight; I hadn't anticipated the drive to be so far. I had never been to Alexander's house before, but from the looks of things, it was the only house around for miles, the perfect place for a rowdy high school party.

My shoes crunched along the gravel as I made my way to the front door, and the closer I got, the louder the music became. I could practically see the windows rattling with every hit of the bass and I found myself eager to get inside, to feel the music pound through my body, high on a buzz of alcohol from whatever drinking game I had just played.

I didn't bother knocking when I reached the door; no one would hear it anyways. Instead I pushed the door open cautiously and stepped inside, biting back a gasp. I could tell Alexander's house was large from the outside, but being inside was an entirely different story. The large foyer opened up into a staircase and wide open rooms to either side. It was your stereotypical "rich person" house, and I was glad because it meant it would be easier for me to blend in. Almost everyone had some sort of cup, bottle, or can in their hands and I made my way through the crowd in search of the kitchen so I could grab a drink of my own. I could feel a few pairs of eyes watching me as I moved across the room, but I made no motion of acknowledging anyone. The less attention I drew to myself the better.

One room opened into the next and finally I found myself in the kitchen. A couple girls were clustered in the corner against a corner, giggling with each other, and I recognized them as underclassmen. Apparently this party was a whole-school affair. The remnants of a game of beer pong were scattered across the island and I frowned.

"Do you guys know where the alcohol is?" I asked, wincing at my own voice.

All at once the girls turned to look at me, and all frowned. Clearly my presence here wasn't something they enjoyed.

"They took it out back," One of them said finally, eyeing me up. Her face was flushed and her straight hair was beginning to curl, like she had been dancing for hours already.

"Thanks," I muttered before scurrying out the kitchen and towards the backyard.

The sliding glass door was already opened when I reached it and I stepped outside into the cool evening. The sun was low in the sky, but still peaking out over the horizon enough to shine through the canopy of trees lining the large yard. A group of people was clustered around a fire pit and I could hear others splashing around in the in-ground pool.But the largest group of people was clustered around a picnic table, overflowing with all types of alcohol imaginable. Trying my best to blend in I moved towards the table. I would just grab a drink or two and then get away from the clusters of people.

When I managed to push through the group of people I grabbed the first things I could find and then pushed my way back through, waiting until I was a safe distance away to check what I had gotten away with.

One half-empty bottle of UV Blue Vodka and one mostly full bottle of Malibu.

It wasn't a terrible find, and I took a long gulp of the UV first, wincing as the liquid rushed down my throat. It wouldn't take much for me to feel the buzz if I took a couple shots of each, and I was eager to let everything fade out.

"Amelia?"

His voice startled me and I flinched, the liquid in both bottles sloshing around violently. I spun around and faced Alexander, shocked to see he was alone, until I glanced down and realized I looked like an alcoholic with both hands full.

"I, uh, I just," I stammered, trying to find a proper excuse for the bottles of alcohol in my hands.

But Alexander only laughed and reached for the Malibu.

"Do you mind?"

I shook my head and held the bottle out from him. I watched him take a long pull, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"I'm glad you could make it," He said after a moment, a hint of a grin on his lips, and handed me back the bottle. I quickly looked away, embarrassed that he had just caught me staring at him.

"Yeah, well, I figured..." I let my voice trail off. I wasn't really sure what I had figured, but somehow I was here.

"Well. Anyhow. I'm glad you decided to come. I'll see you around, yeah?"

He didn't wait for a reply as he turned away and jogged over to join a group of guys near the booze table.

I watched him for a few moments before I lifted one of the bottles to my lips, the strong scent of vodka wafting up the neck of the bottle and to my nose. I took a quick pull and then let the bottle drop back down to my side, my eyes still on Alexander, who was now laughing.

One song moved into the next and I moved back towards the shadows beside the house, the sun creeping lower and lower in the sky. In another life, I had lived for parties like this one. I had always been the girl inside, dancing in a crowd of people, having the time of her life. It was strange to be an observer now, someone literally hiding in the shadows. But I didn't yearn to be inside as I thought I would be. Maybe the party lifestyle just wasn't for me anymore.

I took another pull from one of the bottles, wincing a bit less than I had before. I was already beginning to feel the effects of the vodka and I welcomed the warmth that slowly spread across my body.

By the end of the night I had drank more than enough alcohol and found myself sitting on a chair in a small room on the second floor of the house. I knew it was stupid for me to have had so much, but I was eager to stop feeling, and the alcohol certainly helped with that.

Unfortunately though, now the world was spinning, the party was beginning to wind down, and I was alone. The music was still playing, but it was much quieter as I pushed myself to my feet, taking a few moments to get coordinated before I moved out of the room and headed down the stairs, bracing myself on the railing.

A small crowd of people still huddled in the living room when I finally got downstairs, their laughter ringing painfully in my ears. I tried to ignore them as I shuffled to the door, praying they wouldn't notice me.

"Woah!" A soft voice broke out beside me and a strong hand enveloped my arm, making me flinch.

"Amelia," The voice sighed, and I glanced up to see Alexander beside me, his face furrowed in a frown. "You can't drive home like this."

"I'm fine," I protested, trying to break my arm from his grasp, but I was weak and drunk. I stumbled but Alexander quickly caught me, his eyes darting up to look at the group of people, but no one was watching us.

"You're not fine, and you're not driving home, I won't let you."

"Just let me go," I whispered, my eyes hot with tears.

Alexander let out a deep breath. "Amelia please." His free hand slid into my pocket and tugged out my keys, I grabbed at them but he was far less intoxicated than me and his reflexes much faster. They were in his own pocket before I could say a word.

"I don't need you to take care of me," I hissed, anger bubbling inside me. I tried again to rip my arm away from him, but he was holding tight. "Give me my keys." My voice was getting louder now and a few people glanced over at us.

Alexander noticed the stares and he steered me away from the living room, and the door.

"Just let me go!" I growled, tugging at my arm. "I just want to leave. You don't even know me!"

Alexander sighed, running a hand over his face.

"I know you well enough," He said finally, shaking his head, something flickering in his eyes, but I was too far gone to even try to figure out what it was.

"I don't want to be here anymore," I said, a single tear rolling down my face.

Alexander met my gaze and a look of realization crossed his face. He was smart enough to figure out I wasn't just talking about leaving the party.

"Come on," He said softly, and this time I followed, surprising even myself.

Alexander managed to get me up the stairs and down the long hallway, past the room I had originally come down from. The room we entered was much larger, with a well-made bed in the middle of the far wall. Alexander didn't turn on the light, instead he flicked on the lamp beside the bed and pulled back the sheets.

"C'mon," He said, his eyes avoiding me.

I hesitated for a moment before I slowly slid off my shoes and crawled beneath the covers. Alexander pulled the sheets over me and moved towards the door, but paused just before he left.

"We all have our secrets Amelia."

The door closed with a click and I was left alone, the soft light from the lamp making the room glow red. With tears streaming down my face I reached over and flipped it off.