**Hannah POV**

It’s been two days since I walked out on Gerard, and two days I’ve been staying at my old house. It was the first place I thought of to visit, no surprise there. I knew I couldn’t go to Frank’s; he’d rat me out the second I showed my face. I tried going to work yesterday- even if we were fighting I couldn’t skip my shift. I was in the break room with Jackson making coffee when I heard the bell on top of the door go off- and a very disheveled Gerard start ransacking the place. I’d told Jackson about what happened and I begged, I pleaded with him to not tell Gerard I was here. He had sighed heavily, and I felt bad for dragging him into our affairs, but he went out there and talked to him. I overheard him say I hadn’t shown up for days, and dropping the hint that if I didn’t show up soon he would fire my ass. I was in tears when Gerard stormed out. Jackson comforted me a little bit, but he was just as clueless as Gerard was when it came to calming down broken girls. I waited an hour to be sure the coast was clear before heading out again.

When I’d arrived it was just as I’d remembered. Well, almost. Everything was the same except the new ‘For Sale’ sign propped up on the lawn. It was pretty, with blue and red letters, and a nice blonde lady with a big smile on her face looking like she was on top of the world. It was nice to know at least there was one person in the world that was happy with their life.

Walking inside, I noticed everything was gone. From furniture to pictures and other appliances, as if it vanished into thin air. There was still a nasty hole in the wall adjacent to the staircase from one of my fights with Zach. I pushed away all the memories that began to flood my mind; none of them were pleasant. All the beatings, the screaming, the rape. Tears welled up in my eyes. This was too much. Why did I even come here? Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea?

I ran up the stairs, noticing the blood stained carpet and dry brown splotches of paint plastered all over the walls stretching down the corridor. I thought they were supposed to clean up places like this, I mean how the hell are they gonna sell this place?

I rushed to my old room, slamming the door behind me. I took a deep breath and sank against the door, trying to keep myself from having a break down. Fuck, it’s cold in here. Shivers travelled down my spine and I shuddered. I grabbed my bag and pulled out my sugary drink and my sharpie, retracing everything that I slowly stood up, shaking so bad you’d think I was having a seizure. I made my way to the bathroom, stepping where my desktop would’ve been. Memories of my video chats with Frank crept into my mind, and I smiled. For the first time in three days, I truly fucking smiled.

I stepped into the bathroom connected to my room, staring at the pale, red haired thing in the mirror. I blinked a few times before turning around, remembering everything that Bob said the night everything turned to shit. I reached around my waist, tracing two very distinct scars, about two inches long that ran parallel to my spine, one on each side in the center of my back. My mother told me that I slipped and fell during a soccer game, and that I needed surgery to fix my shattered T-12 vertebrae. This was her explanation every time I bothered her about my back problems. Could it really be true, what Bob said? My mother wouldn’t lie to me, though. Would she?

My foot slid across the floor, bumping into a slightly raised white tile that sat different from the rest. I pressed my fingers against the cool tile, annoyed with myself and my inability to break myself of this cursed nail biting habit. After struggling with the damn thing for a few minutes, it finally popped open, revealing the razor I’d kept hidden ‘in case of emergency’.

I crushed my eyes together, holding back tears as memories washed over me. The multiple times that Casey had stopped me from hurting myself, and the time she initially found out. She was devastated, as anyone would be. But instead of abandoning me- she got me help. It’s just a shame I couldn’t help her.

The tiny razor blade shown in the palm of my hand. With Casey on my mind, anything was possible. I knew she was always here with me, watching over me. She had to be, she wouldn’t just abandon me, even in death.

“This is for you, babygirl.” I choked out a whisper and dropped the metallic shard down the toilet, flushing it into oblivion. The water pushed it up slightly, like a desperate attempt to stay in my life. It took everything I had not to fish it out again.

My head perked up at the sound of the rickety door making its usual high-pitched whine whenever someone opened it. I quickly locked the bathroom door; terrified that Zack would storm upstairs in another one of his drunken fits.

Wait, it couldn’t be him. I keep forgetting he can’t hurt me anymore.

Then who the fuck is downstairs?

I heard footsteps quietly make their way upstairs and immediately in my room. My breath caught in my throat, anxiety threatening to send me into a hyperventalitive state.

“Hey.” A soothing voice spoke and jiggled the locked doorknob. I recognized it immediately, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.

He chucked softly, and knocked twice. “I knew you’d be here, sunshine. Now come on, open up. Please?”

Notes

Sorry for the short, boring chapter. Just not feeling it today. Todays the one year "anniversary" of my best friends death, and I'm doing everything to cope. But anywhore

I'm really falling out of this story, guys. I'm sorry. I know where I wanna go with it, but I don't want to write it. I might end up getting a co-writer, but be warned I am a Grammar Nazi. Message me if your interested, I guess.

Comment, Rate, Subscribe, Criticize. You know what to do~

Xoxo
-Hazel