This story is an alternate ending and continuation to the season 2 episode I Am Hannah, Hear Me Croak. For those who have not watched the episode yet, or have never watched it before, here's a little information you need for you to understand my story. I will not reveal too much for fear of spoilers.

Miley loses her voice singing too many encores and ends up losing her voice. Her doctor says that in order to preserve her Hannah career, she must undergo vocal chord surgery.

During that night after she heard the unwelcome news, she had a nightmare but met her mother in it. Hearing reassuring words and encouragement from her mother and her friends (in the dream), Miley slept on with a smile.

We presume that the ending for that episode was happy, but I don't intend for it to end there. Now, for an edited version of the revelation in I am Hannah, Hear me Croak.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana, nor do I own any of the songs and lyrics. The following song is from Hannah Montana, Life's What You Make It.


Don't let no small frustration

Ever bring you down (no no no!)

Just take the situation

And turn it all around

A concert hall packed with screaming fans...hands waving in the air...banners sporting words of admiration...crowds chanting over and over my name, "Hannah! Hannah! Hannah!"

I maneuvered across the stage graceful like a phoenix, powerful like a dragon; my dance was perfectly synchronized with the music, and as every now and then I went to touch the hands reaching out towards me, the crowd nearest to me would let out a deafening scream that might have drowned out the song.

I have been dumb for the past week, having lost my voice due to singing too many encores in a Hannah concert. Daddy told me to not talk for a week, during which I encountered many inconveniences. When exactly one week had passed, everybody watched eagerly and nervously as I tried to talk. I myself was so apprehensive I couldn't have talked anyway, but when I heard my voice again I could not remember a happier time in my life.

The scheduled Hannah concert was not cancelled after all. And here I am, singing with my recovered voice.

With a new attitude everything can change

Make it all you want it to be

Staying mad, why do that? Give yourself a break

Laugh about it and you'll see

I felt truly happy that all the fiasco from that one week of silence was over. Now I've learnt my lesson. I will not ever sing six encores ever again.

Life's what you make it

So let's make it rock

Life's what you make it

Why do I feel a weird itch in my throat?

So come onCome on!

Wait! That didn't come out right! Had the hoarseness returned? Sweet niblets! Not in the middle of a concert!

Then I felt a knife with the sharpest point thrust right through my throat. Giving out a strangled scream, I dropped the microphone and knelt onto the stage floor, holding on to my neck in agony. Had my throat ripped itself apart? I felt a searing pain burn in the voice box.

The music stopped abruptly. All the fans behind were silent, the ones in front screamed in horror and gasped in despair. My stage dancers ran up to me, and one of them held my left shoulder, saying in a panicked voice, "Miss Montana! Are you alright?"

In reply, I coughed up what looked like dark blood onto the stage floor. By now the fans in front were screaming in horror. My band people also rushed towards me. My dancers all gasped in shock.

Soon, I involuntarily coughed out my lungs, blood from my mouth splattering and staining the floor. Every cough felt like a white-hot iron poker pressing on my throat. The sharp pain was killing me; with each cough I flinched visibly, my eyes streaming. So horrible was the pain that I failed to notice Roxy, my bodyguard, charging up the stage and yelling, "Call of the concert! We gotta get this here girl to the hospital!"

"I'm fine, Roxy!" I cried out to her, immediately regretting it as I felt my throat tear itself asunder. My hands squeezed my neck like a tightening vice.

"Oh no you ain't girl! Come on!" And unceremoniously, I was carried by Roxy to the backstage. I heard the Master of Ceremony say something, and the fans gave a load grudging groan. Apparently they were dispersing.

Daddy took me into his arms, and all of us-Daddy, Roxy, Lilly in her Lola disguise and I -boarded the limo. The driver then sped off to the nearest hospital.

I thought my eyes would dry out; an endless stream of tears flowed down my cheeks. The pain in my throat intensified, and I thought I might die there, clutching my throat, resting (and banging) my head on Daddy's lap. Every ten seconds I would give one or two coughs, accompanied with a croaked scream, blood spurting into the air like a miniature fountain. Lilly gave the sight a disgusted look. Roxy was yelling into her cellphone, "This is an emergency!" while Daddy loudly urged the driver to go faster, the way a jockey would beat his horse. He looked quite deranged.

I think I might have passed out then. For next thing I remembered after opening my eyes was that I was lying on the living room sofa. At home.

I bolted up straight. Looking around, I saw my doctor and Daddy next to me. My wig was out of sight. A strange tingling feeling was in my throat. Cautiously, I croaked to Daddy, "Daddy! What happened?"

Daddy replied in a would-be-calm voice, "They had no place for reservations in the hospital, so we drove you home. I called up Doc here."

Doc gave me a reassuring smile. I winced at the sunlight shining into my eyes. Did I sleep one night? Was this morning?

Doc gave me a check-up on my throat. Daddy took a seat next to me as Doc made his diagnosis.

"This problem is not going to get better on its own. If you ever want to sing again, I'm afraid you would have to go through surgery."

My stomach felt my stomach plummet into nothingness. Feeling an icy rush run through my body, my shaking hand jerked out and grabbed dad's. Daddy gave my hand a squeeze as my numb brain struggled to take in the news.

Then the doctor gave a few comments that made me feel more apprehensive. I covered my face in terror when I heard all that he said and thought that Hannah might never sing again. What is something went wrong?

I went into an uneasy sleep that night. Mommy visited me in my dreams and told me that even if I lost my voice, I would still have people who cared about me. My friends, my mommy, my daddy. I thought I could sleep with a smile on my face.

Or it could have been Daddy's Loco Hot Cocoa. But I definitely heard mom. And her warm hug gave me the courage I needed.

And yet, still, as I got up next morning, got changed, sat at the back of the car while Dad drove me to the hospital, signed those incomprehensible forms, and (had time sped up or something?) finally lied down on the operating table, breathing in the noxious gas from a mask that made my brain feel all numb and sl-sl-sleepy all...of the...sudden...

I could not get rid of that ominous feeling...

Shadows closed over my eyes...


This came to me in a sudden stroke of inspiration. Hope you enjoyed it! Meanwhile, I'll get on that second chapter right away! Yes sir, I'm working like a running train here! Hahahaha!

Terrorking Tragedian