I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with this in the long run. I know I really don't need to start up any more chapter fics atm, but I can't help myself. After reading another fan fiction I had to. It was really inspiring. So don't blame me! Blame the cursed writers who write too well. :P And as with my past few stories I will, once again, warn you that my update rate is based on my mood. Things get in the way, you know? So don't expect regular updates. Note: I also based this ever so slightly on RQ: Not Like the Movies... by ~guitarNrd362.

It was the day after it happened, the day after that God awful moment that went on for forever in her eyes. It wasn't that this was the first time it had happened or anything, sadly it had become a quite regular occurrence. One might even say that it was now a part of her routine, something unavoidable which she dutifully complied with whenever the need arose. But she sure as hell didn't enjoy it! It was quite possibly the worst 'accomplishment' that she had ever had the misfortune of bringing about for herself. And there was no way to stop it. No matter how much she craved to have it end once and for all there was no way in hell her wish would be granted. Not a million wishes on each and every one of the stars in the sky could garner her the desired outcome.

These negative thoughts attacked her mind as she laid curled in a ball on her pink bed, her usually clean kept brown hair splayed out on her pillow. To add to her look of dishevelment her face was caked with dirt, Capri's torn in places, and a few cuts graced her caramel skin. All this and more had sobs racking her small body as tears streamed down her face. She had been crying for an hour straight, having kept an eye on the digital clock by her bed all the while. Only she didn't give a damn. If her body willed it then she would keep on crying until the end of time. This was how far she'd spiraled in the past few months, ever since she opened herself up to him. He was the only person she trusted and he now held the prize of being the only person who could break her in but two words. 'Let's go.' That was all it took and she was ready to fall on her knees and scream.

She let out a tortured moan at the very thought, bringing a trembling hand up to her face to gently touch her hairline. She needed to do it, it was something that was always done to her to calm her down by her mother and even him, back when he loved her. Still it wasn't enough, not this time. All it did was bring those horrid memories back to her full force. She was so jolted that she let out a sudden sharp breath as if the air had been knocked out of her from a blow. Only worse.

She was breathing rapidly now, trying her damn best to get her breathing back under control. It was such a strain that she found herself griping tight to her stomach with one hand and the sheets with the other. And before she knew it she was whimpering and whining again. She had quailed it thirty minutes ago after telling herself that he'd hear her if she was too loud. But her mind finally realized that this was a lie. As such there was no need to hide the pain.

"Honey!" she heard her mom's voice call. "Are you all right in there?" she sounded incredibly concerned, and Courtney was sure she was. But she couldn't tell her the truth. Because although many argue that the truth will set you free, it is not the case. To Courtney the truth would simply throw the key farther away, leaving her to be dragged deeper into her cage of darkness and despair.

That's why Courtney did as she always did when confronted. She drew in a deep, shaky breath, closed her eyes tight, and spoke as steadily as possible. "I'm fine mom!" she called back, choking back the sobs wedged in her throat.

There was hesitation on her mother's end. "Well...alright..." as she asked the question she had had her hand resting on the knob of the door, ready to enter in a moments notice. She even intended to do so without her daughters consent as well as if she were ok or not, but stopped herself. She couldn't do it. She'd hated it when her own mother had done the same and as such avoided falling into her pattern of thinking. So with a soft sigh she released the knob and slowly turned away from her daughter's room. It was then, as she walked down the flight of stairs leading first to the living room before she could enter the kitchen, that she found herself frowning slightly. She wondered what in the world was happening to her precious baby girl. She was no longer the bright, peppy girl she thought she knew. She had become someone foreign. So not her daughter.

Courtney listened to the steady beat of her mother's footsteps on the creaky hall floor and stairs until she was in the kitchen, where Courtney knew was the only place in the house she wouldn't be able to hear her mother's movements. Similar was the fact that her mother would be unable to hear her move around in her own room. It wasn't that her floor was squeak-free, but it was close. Close enough for Courtney's liking anyway. Yet for a time she refrained from moving. Her body was still sore and she wasn't to keen on enduring any more pain. And that's why she was about to do what she thought was the only cure. She planned it weeks ago, fed up even then, but she was too scared to go through with it. Every time she was given the perfect opportunity her nerves acted up like nothing else, heart beat a million miles an hour, and she collapsed to the floor. She was so inefficient that it was no wonder all this shit was happening to her.

Here she was going again, down that path that only led her further into depression and farther from accomplishing her goal. Speaking of depression...she gazed glassy eyed over to her desk across the room. Her depression meds which she'd went out and bought on one her better days were somewhere over there. She should take one now so as to help get over her experience. She whimpered, sobs quieting ever so slightly. But they were so far away. She couldn't recall why she'd moved them so far out of reach, all she knew was that she needed them now. "D-Damn it a-all..." she stuttered, voice as shaky as ever. Still, as pissed as she was by the length she gradually rolled across the bed until she met the edge before turning her body about carefully so that her feet dangled above the floor and she gingerly touched down. The pressure on her feet stung a bit, the pain not having subsided completely from yesterday. She cringed, whining softly. But it would be worth it, she told herself. The medicine would help it go away, all of it.

She looked lazily about herself, moving almost mechanically over to her faded white desk which she couldn't remember having used for much of anything in the past few months. It was untouched by her, all sorts of trinkets were littered across its top, the only large one being her computer. The keys were red around the edges from the blood that was spilled onto it. A shiver shot up her spine and her heart skipped a beat. No...don't think of it. She knew that if she did for to long she would become to depressed to be coherent even in her own mind. She had to get her meds, and fast.

She was shaking as she dug through all the crap on the desk in search of the tiny white bottle with the cymbalta inside. Her fear was creeping up on her like a lion going in for the kill. And she was only making it worse by panicking as she was. Of course this was also an effect of all that had been done to her. Normal Courtney would have not let anything get the better of her, she would have remained as cool and collected as ever in the face of anything at all, and most importantly she wouldn't have ever needed antidepressants let alone be searching for them like her life depended on them. "Come on...come on...!" she pleaded with herself and God.

A moment more of searching and she had had enough. She was down on her knees, arms clutching her body fiercely and strangled moans growing again. "Damn it!" she screamed rather loudly, to consumed with her own problems to think of the possibility of her mother hearing. Not that it mattered in the end. Her mother's footsteps could be heard far down in the basement. She would not hear a sound. Nothing at all.

The thought caught Courtney off guard. She...wouldn't hear? As she processed this she slowly brought her moans down to soft whimpers and forced her body to cease its incessant shaking. Once she reached this point of what she called perpetual bliss and others called on the brink of falling over the edge into an abyss she carefully picked herself back up, knees shaking beneath her despite her control. She then stared blankly down at the desk for a time, tear stained face reflected in the mirror on the wall behind the desk. It was good she didn't see it. She hated the thought of what she had become, so seeing the outcome plain as day would do irrevocable harm.

As the seconds slipped into minutes she tentatively reached down for the knob of the tiny drawer of the desk. It stuck slightly, but otherwise opened like it should. Inside was what she had searched so desperately for. It was just where she had left it. And now she remembered why she'd left it there. Her mother had begun to snoop around in her room recently due to Courtney's behavior. She needed to hide it from view or face the consequences. Although in this moment this memory held little place in importance to the more pressing matter of taking her pills. She snatched the bottle up, letting it rest in the palm of her hand out in front of her face. It was her connection to this world, her sanity, and more so her life. Without it she would definitely not be here.

She stifled a whimper, using a free hand to wipe the tears staining her face away as well as the freshly formed ones from her eyes. She knew then, as she flipped the cap off the bottle and poured a couple pills into her mouth, that she would be ok. It wasn't that the pills worked so fast, it was more so the fact that her mind wanted to believe they did. Just having the knowledge that they were working their way through her system lifted her mood. It was truly a testimony of mind over matter.

Sadly, her being her, she was cursed with bad luck. As she turned to walk back to her bed and sleep for a time she came face to face with her reflection. Her eyes shot open wide, pupils dilated, lip quivering strangely, and a panic attack hit her hard. This was why she no longer looked at herself. She hated what she had become. She was a worthless piece of shit who he called his property. She was even told once that she wasn't worth the ground they all walked on, that she didn't deserve him, and that she was the luckiest girl alive to have him by her side. After all, he didn't have to stay with her, he had a million other options out there, yet he chose her. And lastly she should be happy with her lot in life, happy that he didn't leave her.

The tears she had wiped away so short a time ago welled in her eyes for the umpteenth time, hiccups surfacing. She wanted to kill her, this person looking back at her. She wanted to make her go away so that she no longer could be tortured by her undying presence. It was then, as she emitted a deep growl at the sight of herself, that she felt a sudden surge of fury. And this time she acted on it. She didn't think about it, not even hesitating for a fraction of a second. She just did it. She slammed the pill bottle down, taking a firm hold on the gold rim of the perfectly imperfect mirror which still held her within its depths and thrust it with all her might into the adjacent wall. It shattered instantly, creating an unimaginably loud ringing noise to break the near perfect silence. It burned her ears, but she didn't care. All that she was registering was the fact that she had destroyed it, she shattered that ugly, undesirable face. It would no longer plague her, she was free. Yet if this were really true...then why did she still feel like dying...?

She slammed a fist into the wall which had destroyed her reflection. Her breathing was becoming heavier and heavier as the moments flew by, eyes bloodshot from rubbing, and body reverting back t its state of unstable shaking. Why? Why wasn't the feeling gone? What the hell was wrong with her and her head? Was it not enough? Did just knowing that the person who owned the reflection was still alive and well, there for all to see, enough to rattle her to her very core and disrupt the peace she rarely felt? Was she so weak...so hopeless...that not even this could satisfy her...?

And that's when she snapped. Her eyes narrowed down into slits, an intense fire burning where there once laid a pool of tears, her face contorted to match this new unexpected expression. No! She was not weak! She'd let a lot of things happen in the past bit of her life, but one thing she would not allow was for her to be thought of as weak. Never! And what better way to prove she was no coward then to fulfill the task she had opted out of many times before. It was so simple, so easy to foresee the outcome. She was going to kill herself. Yes, this was the truth. Instead of fighting and praying to be freed of this deathtrap she could not escape she would now work to be free of the world.

Once it was said and done all could see what her other wish, a dark wish, had been all along. And she wouldn't have to break the promise she made to herself, she could remain true to her code. It was a promise she regretted half the time, but one she would never dare break. It was a dirty little secret in more than one sense of the word. And it was destined to fade into oblivion, along with any trace of her existence.

She snatched the bottle back up, hand trembling around it. This was it. The end. No more. She slowly raised the bottle to her lips, preparing to tip it up so the capsules slid nicely down her throat, when her cell phone burst to life. She jumped half a mile at the sudden sound, eyes wide and heart beating a million miles an hour. She even spilled some of the pills on the floor in the process. What the hell? Who could be calling her now? It was rather eerie.

As the phone buzzed repeatedly, signifying a text had been received, she crept closer to see the caller id. It read, in blue text, Gwen. Courtney felt a pang of guilt then. God...Gwen. She'd nearly forgotten about her. She sighed bitterly. Gwen had been there for her the last couple of months, attempting to work her out of her depression and save her from herself. Courtney didn't quite believe it to be honest. There was no way she could have went from barely acknowledging her existence to caring about her in such short a time. Yet...Courtney wanted to believe it more then ever. She wanted to be able to say, 'Someone will miss me if I were gone. I won't be forgotten.'

Nevertheless Gwen and her possibly hurt feelings due to what Courtney was about to do wasn't enough to stop her. She was in too deep now, comfortable with the thought of being at peace, free from this wretched world that was Earth. But she did do one last thing before she killed herself. She gently lifted the now still phone from its place on the desk, flipped it open, and clicked on the text button. She didn't bother reading what Gwen's text had said, she didn't want to. Instead she wrote but a single word in a text all her own. 'Sorry...' and she jabbed the send button before letting the phone slip from her hand and hit the floor with a snap.

In the next instant, in one blink of her eye, she was setting her dark deed into motion. She brought the open pill bottle back to her lips, tipping it faster this time so as not to be interrupted a second time, and downed half of it.

She had to stop for a minute a second after because some were getting caught in her throat, causing her to cough and gag. She held on to her throat, coughing as hard as she could to dislodge the tiny capsules. It took a bit, but she eventually managed, spitting a couple back up on accident. But all she had to do was toss them back into her mother along with the rest of the bottle of pills. This time it was a clean swallow. She did it. Now all that was left was to wait for the dire consequences of her actions, actions that she herself found to be almost holy.
It wasn't long before she could feel the change in her body. Her stomach was twisting itself into knots, vision starting to blur, a tingling sensation creeping up from the tips of her toes to her head. As the pain intensified by great magnitudes with the slow passage of time she found herself gripping her stomach tight before she dropped to her knees and emitted a sharp cry of agony. The tears were there again as she rolled around on the ground, screams never dissipating.

Then that pain in her stomach pushed itself upward, forcing a chunky substance into and out of her mouth. It spewed all over her clean carpet, soaking it through and through. But this was the least of her worries. Her biggest fear was that her mother would hear her tortured cries and come, mistaking them for a plea to be saved when, in reality, she wanted nothing more then to be let go. Her mother wouldn't understand. And then she'd be dragged to the hospital and saved before being thrown into a mental institute. This would be safer then living her life as she was, but it most certainly wasn't an option. She was going to die right here, right now, and that was all there was to it.

Her phone buzzed again. 'Nvm. Sent Duncan.'

...

Duncan had been going through Courtney's neighborhood when he decided to call Gwen. She was his best friend and he always liked to check up on her. So when the first words out of her mouth had been that she needed him to get her books for her he was a bit peeved. He would have liked to at least heard a pleasant greeting before she launched into asking favors. He showed his displeasure openly, getting no sympathy from Gwen for once.

"Duncan, I'm serious. You know I'm sick. So please, could you just go to Courtney's place and get my books?" she sneezed shortly after. Then she added, "I know you're right there too." her voice held a twinge of playfulness in it this time what with her knowing what he did every Friday and all.

He turned a deep crimson, eyes widening. "W-What are you talking about?" he muttered nervously.

Gwen rolled her eyes, shifting her position on the bed. "Save it." she sighed. "I never ask for much." she reminded.

Duncan chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, be there and back in a few." his at ease expression turned stern to match his tone. "But I'm not close to her house. I'm not." he insisted.

Gwen was the one to laugh softly this time. "Ok. See ya soon."

"Bye." he said in that charming voice of his, clicking his phone shut immediately after so he could focus on the road and getting to Courtney's house. And Gwen had been right. He was in her neighborhood, just like every Friday. He had a girlfriend of the sorts who he visited regularly. She was hot. So how could you blame him?

Gwen held the phone to her ear even after Duncan had hung up, his smooth tone faded into silence. She sighed bitterly. Now she could tell Courtney he was coming. She would no longer have to worry about it. Gwen then found her way to the text screen, missing the text that Courtney had sent a minute before while she had been on the phone. She was still blissfully unaware of the tragedy befalling her friend. And so she'd remain until it appeared on the news late that night.

And there it was. Her house had been only thirty seconds away. If he wanted to make Gwen believe that he wasn't lying, even though he was, he'd have to drive around aimlessly for quite a while. What a waste of gas. He smirked as he swung his car door open and stepped out into the light of the sun. Nah, it's totally worth. Just like doing this for her was worth it. It wasn't that he wanted to see her highness Courtney, in fact he didn't want much of anything to do with the prep aside from teasing. It was merely that Gwen was worth that much to him. And since she cared about Courtney, for some reason or another, he'd pretend to like her when he went to fetch Gwen's things.

He stepped up onto the porch, reaching out and ringing the doorbell easily.

Her mother was swift to reach the door and open it for Duncan. Her face was cheery, at least until who he was sunk in. Her face fell drastically. Her bright eyes turned cold, narrowing into slits, as her mouth curved down into a sharp frown. "What do you want?" she growled.

Duncan glared right back at her. "I'm here to get some stuff." he said simply, hoping not to have to elaborate.

She snorted. "You?" she growled incredulously. "When have you ever been in this house? Huh?" she jabbed a finger into his chest, voice sharp.

Duncan pushed her finger away from him. "Never, idiot." Gwen wouldn't want him being mean to Courtney, but that didn't mean her mother would be so lucky. He didn't give a damn what she thought of him. He already knew anyway. She'd taken one look and thought, 'troublesome bad boy punk.' That and she probably connected him with something concerning Courtney. No doubt she'd run home and whined about his harmless teasing. Which would be totally uncalled for in his opinion. Gwen could take it, seeing that it was a joke. Why not Courtney?

"Then why the hell are you on my property looking for 'some stuff'?" she used her fingers as quotation marks. "Cause you're not about to get anywhere near my daughter! You got that?"

"Chill lady!" he snapped. "I have no desire whatsoever to do the things you're thinking of to Courtney! K?"

Her mother didn't know how to take this. She wanted to be content with the fact he wasn't interested, yet at the same time she felt that he was saying that her daughter was not good enough for him. She was at a loss for words.

"I'm here for Gwen." he informed her after a moment of awkward silence. "It's her stuff." he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh." her expression lost its intensity. "Alright." a pause. "Come on." she waved him in, still a mite bit suspicious of his intentions despite the fact he'd told her he was here for Gwen's things and Gwen's things only. "She's up in her room." she said absently as she led him up the stairs.

Duncan barely listened to her. He was busy taking in her wonderful home. Not a thing was out of place, no dust or cobwebs on the floor and corners of rooms, and all the colors were bright and inviting. Although he could have still gotten lost in the place. Just because it was nice and tidy didn't mean it wasn't a maze in and of itself. "Cool..." he muttered in a similar manner as Courtney's mother had, not really thinking about the words being said.

"There." she pointed toward her daughter's door. A sign which read 'Don't Disturb' hung on it.

Duncan nodded, moving in front of her to reach for the doorknob. He easily pushed it open, "Court, listen. I'm looking for-" he was halfway through his sentence before he opened his eyes and took in the scene before him. Courtney's body at this point was seizing uncontrollably like that of a fish out of water, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, skin a faded shade of her normal tone, and she was surrounded by a pool of her own vomit. Duncan's face was drained of all color, eyes wide in horror, hand automatically shooting up to cover his agape mouth. "Holy shit." he spit out, finding no breath nor brain power to say anything else.

Her mothers high pitched scream encompassed them then. It was a bloodcurdling sound. It even made Duncan cringe. "MY BABY!" she shoved Duncan out of the way to drop down by her daughters side and attempt to cradle her. "C-Courtney...m-my b-baby. What...what ha-happened...?" she moaned, tears rushing forth from her eyes as her sobs nearly choked her.

Duncan was frozen. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't close to her, so there was no pain, but at the same time he knew he was wrong for gawking like he was. He had to do something...something. He tore his gaze away from the thrashing body that was Courtney and her crumpled mother next to her just long enough to notice a small white bottle laying on its side not far from where she was. "Shit..." he breathed, jolting from his place to snatch it up and make sure he wasn't mistaken. Although he was damn sure there was no mistaking these signs. She had tried to kill herself by overdosing. Hey!" he barked. "Call 911!" he hesitated a moment in saying the horrid truth aloud, for no one wanted to hear that their precious baby had no desire to live. He knew this. Still he forced himself to say it. "She tried to kill herself!"

What do you think? Was Courtney too ooc for your tastes? Well, if you knew what she was going through you probably wouldn't think so. But I'm not going to directly state what it is for a while, so feel free to guess away. You could even say what you think it is in your review if you want. Not like I'll tell you if you're right or not though. :P And the amount of reviews I get will play a part in determining how often I update. Just some food for thought. So please review! :D