Disclaimer: I don't own PLL.

Chapter One

I sit hyperventilating in my car, my eyes unfocused and my ears ringing from the yelling surrounding my car.

Oh my god, I'm going to die.

I continue gasping, trying to force the air down my throat and into my lungs. I grip the steering wheel tightly in my hands not moving an inch.

I blink my eyes rapidly trying to focus on something, anything.

I close my eyes as I remember the bang as my car rammed into another.

I claw at my chest, hoping to encourage some air down my parched throat.

Oh god, oh god. I'm going to die.

I'm going to die alone and miserable.

I feel tears burn my eyes, not falling as my chest continues to rise and fall haphazardly.

I feel the warm trail of water running down my cheek and realise I've started to cry, I move to wipe the water from my face, but stop breathing when I see red.

Oh god. I'm bleeding. I'm going to die.

My gasping for air gets harder, and my breasts rise and fall and strain against the seat belt.

I thought seat belts save lives.

I hear a rapping on the driver winder and I move my shaky blood covered hand to the window control and open the window.

"Hey Miss, are you ok?" Some middle aged guy with a balding head asks surveying my hyperventilating and eyes me wearily.

"Do. I. Look. Ok?" I gasp out between raged breaths.

"Hang tight, help is on its way." He tells me, his plump fingers resting on my door.

I itch for his hand to take mine and provide me some comfort but it doesn't move.

Oh man, I'm so lonely and pathetic.

I try to move in my seat, hoping a better angle will allow my breathing to slow down and return to normal, however I'm restrained and having trouble moving.

"Oh god. I can't move. Oh my god. Someone help me." I gasp out breathlessly, salty tears mixing with the blood on my face.

"Miss, calm down. It's ok." The middle aged guys tries to sooth me, his plumb fingers trying to grab my tiny wrists which are swinging around wildly through my panic.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" I yell out in a raspy voice.

"Miss, your seatbelt it still on." He tells me loudly, trying to be heard over my panic attack.

"Oh." I mutter through my deep, uneven breaths.

He reaches in and unclips the seat belt.

"For god's sake, can someone please get this lady a paper bag or something?" He looks around him at the crowd hoping a paper bag will materialise.

Great.

Even strangers can't put up with me.

No wonder I'm alone.

Mortified. Embarrassed. Humiliated.

I sink down lower in my ER hospital bed with all these emotions crossing my face.

I'm going to die.

What the hell was I thinking?

It was a bump.

Not much of a car accident.

I hear the ER nurses giggle and gossip over by the bench and can't help but feel they are taking pleasure in my embarrassment.

I reach up to touch the gauze on my forehead which is covering a small cut and feel heat creep up onto my cheeks at my panic attack.

It's been two weeks since Jason left me. Threw away our five year relationship without a moments consideration, and our engagement of one year was over immediately.

He didn't even have the decency to do it in person.

He did it over the phone.

I close my eyes trying to ignore the hurt, and the pain shooting through my chest. I spin the engagement ring around on my ring finger and feel anger towards Jason.

I feel knots in my stomach over the fact he left me for someone else, how could I be so stupid? How did all this go on under my nose?

Business trips.

God, I was stupid, gullible and weak.

"Aria!" My eyes fly open at the sound of my best friend.

"Emily." I give her a small smile as she comes to my bed side.

"What happened? Are you ok?" Concern evident on her face and in her voice.

"I'm fine, just a small accident. Nothing to worry about." I tell her, deciding to leave out my small panic attack.

Ok, maybe small wasn't the right word. I've always panicked at the first sign of distress; Jason always hated that about me.

I shake my head at my thoughts and try to direct my attention back to Emily.

"So where's Jason? Did you want me to call him for you?" Emily offers kindly.

"No! Uh, he's away on business and I already called. It's really not a big deal, small bump on the head and that's it, really." I try to convince Emily and she nods with a kind smile.

I haven't told anyone that Jason left me yet. I'm still waiting for him to realise he made a mistake and come crawling back to me. I mean, he can't just throw away five years together for some stupid bitch.

Trudy. I mean what kind of name is that anyway?

All I can think of is; Trudy the prude.

Well at least they are good for each other, considering Jason is never in the mood.

I'm too tired.

I've got a headache.

It's been a long day.

We haven't made love in eighteen months, I'm ready to explode.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass doors on the other side of the room and it's in that moment I truly feel weak, clingy and unwanted.

I give myself a hard look and decide that I'm going to change, be a different person.

Jason isn't there to hold me back anymore. He's not there to make every decision pertaining to my life.

How I have my hair, what car I drive, what job I take, where we go for dinner...

Not anymore.

No more whining, no more begging, no more being a pushover. I'm taking back control of my life.

Starting with my job.

"Mr Tate, may I come in?" I ask my boss with only one item on my agenda.

"Certainly Miss Montgomery, how are you feeling? I heard about the accident." His eyes never move off his computer screen and his fingers don't move from flying across the keyboard.

"Well I realised something about my life." I tell him, waiting for some hint of a response.

He gives a faint 'mmm hmmm' while reaching for his pen and jotting down a quick note.

"Oh, before I forget. You're only at 2 new managements on your KPI this quarter, and we need 4 from you. Just a heads up." His eyes briefly flicker towards me before back to his screen.

"That really isn't possible Mr. Tate because-" Once again I'm interrupted.

"I don't want to hear excuses Miss Montgomery, 4 is your target. Now achieve it." His tone is cold and crisp and cuts right through me.

"I quit. So it might be a bit difficult." I fire back, my stomach bubbling in anger.

"What?" Mr. Tate's voice is full of shock and his attention is finally diverted toward me.

"I came to realise, I hate my job. I'm young; I can do anything I want. Consider this my notice." I throw a formal letter of resignation down on his desk.

"Miss Montgomery, this has come to be quite a shock... however I cannot let you work out your time here. You will need to leave immediately. You understand this being real estate, we can't risk any clients being poached." His voice is cold, calculated and professional – just like Jason's always was.

"I understand Mr. Tate. Ok so, I have two insurance claims pending at the moment. I'm due in court tomorrow at 12 – serial rent arrears offender. And umm I need to issue a termination notice to the tenants in Smith Street. Oh sorry. I don't have any of that to do. My new replacement does." I send him a vindictive smile and waltz out of the office, feeling free and happy for the first time in years.

I walk to my office, grab my personal possessions and walk straight out of the building, not once looking back and smile as I feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders.

I slide into my black BMW, and pull out my small notepad and stare at the list of errands and chores Jason left me before he went away on his business trip.

The business trip he didn't return from.

I rip it out, crumple it up and throw it out the window.

My eyes then find the next list, the one scrawled in my messy handwriting.

I smile as I read over the following.

Steps to the new me:

1. Quit my job.

2. Buy a new wardrobe.

3. Change my hair.

4. Put the house on the market.

5. Track Jason down and show him what he's missing.

6. Find a hot guy and have hot, passionate sex for the first time... well ever.

7. Find a job I love.

I cross off step one before gnawing at my bottom lip as I think about step two.

I tap my finger on the car door in thought, before halting my movements and raising an eye brow.

I twirl the pen in my hands before pressing it down on the small pad, next to the scribbled out step one.

Trade in the car for a red convertible.

I've always hated the BMW Jason insisted I get, I always wanted a sexy red convertible but Jason knocked down every idea I ever had, criticised every decision I ever made and found fault with everything I ever wanted.

Not anymore.

A/N: please review and let me know what you think!