Ok well people seemed to like the first bit of this so I suppose I should continue... just be aware that this may not an entirely happy chapter.

Dear diary,

Today is the day.

The final day.

My last night.

I know it sounds corny and like I'm trying to sound overdramatic but I'm really not. I wrote that poem as a final cry for help and no one did anything... so I suppose no one cares if I die...

Good.

It just proves that they fooled me into caring for them. They fooled me into thinking they cared about me when they so obviously don't, no one does... and I can't really blame them.

I was a bitch for so much of my life and now I'm paying the price. I treated everyone around me like dirt, like something I'd trodden in. So they decided to get their revenge.

Got to award them for their originality though, getting me to fall for her of all people then throwing it back in my face like they did...

I can't believe I fell for it and brought all their lies. They were all in on it weren't they? Right from the start. And I bet this was all her idea to begin with. And who could blame her after how I treated her this summer?

But to get me to love her and then to take it all away from me like that? I wouldn't have even done something like that, not out of spite.

I know I should be angry, that my rage should bubble and boil inside me until it overflows and fills my body, running through my veins until it is in every muscle, every cell, every fibre of my being.

But I'm not...

I just feel... empty.

Sharpay stood up from her desk, not even bothering to close the little pink book. She set her pen down next to the book so it was running parallel to the side of the book. She looked around her room letting out a snort of laughter as she did.

Truth was, she had felt angry... but she had worked out that anger.

She stared at the remnants of her room. Shreds of the pink wallpaper she had had covering three of her four walls littered the floor. The other wall which was mostly window had survived mostly intact, for it was not covered in wallpaper and merely painted the same shade of pink as that of the wallpaper. She stared at the pieces of plaster that were scattered amongst the scraps of wallpaper before looking at her bloodied knuckles. She winced as she reached and withdrew a piece of plaster that she had decided to leave protruding from between the knuckles of her middle and pointer finger of her left hand. She dropped it to the ground rather unceremoniously, not giving the room a second glance as she walked to the door and through it.

She emerged from the dark room full of destruction into the bright harsh lights of the upstairs hallway. She was glad that the day she had chosen to do this on fell in the night that Ryan was at 'dance practise', her mother was at 'Pilates' and her father was 'working' late at the office.

They all thought she didn't know but she did. They were all disgusting. She hated having to call herself an Evans, to be associated with them... the mere thought enough was enough to turn her stomach, making it churn and yearn to release its contents. Not that there was anything in there to throw back up, she hadn't eaten for days. She couldn't stand to be in the same room as them all, to have to breathe the same air as them... they all repulsed her.

But now was her chance to get the ultimate revenge on them.

She got to the top of the stairs before having an idea and turning back for a moment. She appeared from her brother's room, clutching at her find which she had gladly made a great mess in looking for. She moved back to the top of the stairs and raised the BB gun she had gotten so she could aim. She loved that her brother insisted on having the gold and silver BB pellets because that meant that it only took one round to loosen the chandelier that hung from the ceiling.

Time seemed to slow as the massive, expensive light piece fell to the ground. It had never been used for actual lighting purposes so there were no cables to slow to even halt its descent. She leaned over the banister and still watched as it hit the floor, shattering the many glass and jewel fragments against the cold marble of the floor of the Evans atrium. She smirked as the satisfying smash reached her ears and she continued to smirk as she descended the stairs.

She discarded the gun, throwing it over the banister, barely even noticing the crash as it fell among the chandelier remains.

She reached the bottom of the stairs but never broke her stride, moving onwards off the stairs at the same pace as she had been using ever since she left her room. The shards of glass crunched beneath her bare feet but she felt no pain. She was numb, the reality of the situation and what she was about to do finally sinking in. She thought she had prepared herself for this, but all that she had done seemed not enough now.

She had dismissed the help for the evening, not giving them a reason for her supposed 'kindness'. They had all left hours ago, not one of them checking on her before they left. But why would they? They were the help and she treated them like her slaves. She looked down her nose at every single one of them and thought herself better than them. Well at least she used to. Now she didn't even deem herself worthy to lick their shoes.

She entered the kitchen, debris from the chandelier stuck into the soft flesh of the sole of her foot. With every step she took it dug deeper and deeper, making blood flow from the wounds until she left bloody footprints behind her.

She didn't notice, running through her plan over and over again in her head.

She walked to the magnetic rack that was on the side of the wall that held the knifes that the chief used for his cooking. Her fingers played over the different blades, trying to whittle her choices down until only one remained.

Finally, she plucked the steak knife from the rack and turned back on herself, retracing her footsteps until she was stood back in the atrium.

She walked through, more pieces of the chandelier embedding themselves in her feet. She didn't care. She was too focused now on her goal and how she was to achieve it.

She paced into the front room and stood in front of one of the sofas.

This was it.

Only now could it happen.

She brought the blade she had clasped in her hand to rest on her wrist.

She thought of how she would be found, either by her parents, reunited through her father collecting her mother from her Pilates, or Ryan. Or possibly both. She really hoped it was both.

She smiled to herself as she played the scene through in her mind. They would walk in to find the chandelier on the floor and assume they had been burgled. They would call her name and her father would rush upstairs to check her room to see if she was ok. If Ryan was with them, as he sometimes was because her father sometimes made the extra stop to pick him up from dance as well, he would stay downstairs with their mother. Then her mother would need to sit down and would walk into the room she was now stood in to find her precious blonde daughter 'unconscious' on the sofa. Then they both would come into the room further and one of them would look closer and discover her dead. Her father would be called downstairs by the wails of her mother and the family would be united in grief.

So in a way she was doing them a favour.

She was giving them a way to reconnect and be a proper family again.

She smirked at her own pathetic reasoning.

She took a deep breath and steadied the blade that was pressed against her wrist. She didn't want to slip and to have this happen before she was ready to handle it. No, that wouldn't do. It would spoil everything, everything she had worked so hard to achieve in her last moments.

This is it.

This is the end.

Sharpay closed her eyes and took a deep breath before running the blade across her wrist and collapsing backwards into the sofa and its cushy embrace.

Her last thought before the darkness of unconsciousness overwhelmed her was of the one person she had truly ever loved and had been hurt by. She managed to get her lips to work one last time.

"Gabriella..." she whispered softly before the darkness became too much...

Wow... one word and one word only... EMO! But in a good way.

I think I may do one more chapter. Should it be a funeral or another chapter with Ms Rouke? Yes I changed her name by the way.

Please leave me a review saying what you think and what you would like to see if I do maybe continue this story. But was it too dark? Should I tone it down a bit? Or keep it as it is?

R.F.L.C

X