I shot for the sky,
I?m stuck on the ground.

"Don't you have any CDs that are more current than this? Or aren't fronted by angry females screaming about how cruel the world is?" Natalie pulled her gaze from my book of CDs she was thumbing through and sent me a sideways glance paired with a teasing grin.

"Hey now, that's a well respected collection right there! Lynyrd Skynyrd, Garbage, Pink Floyd? Come on, Nat! Work with me here, that's good music. You need to educate yourself." I pulled a hand from the steering wheel long enough to wag a stern finger at her before it was back in place.

"You have Hole in here." She countered with an argumentative tone and laugh, as if that said it all right there.

"You bet your bony butt I do!" I kept my eyes on the road even as I defended my deity of grungy chick rock with a passion. "Don't you go talking smack on Hole! Courtney Love is a beast on the mic and with a guitar. What're you listening to these days anyway that gives you so much room to talk? You one of those girls that gets all excited about NSync?" I tried to keep my tone serious, though my lips trembled with laughter.

"NSync? Are you kidding me!?" She didn't hold back and gave her own burst of snickers.

"I don't know what you crazy kids are listening to. I was a Backstreet Boys kind of girl myself back when I was your age. I liked that one with the hair. I think his name was A.J. or something. Just a couple of letters and he called it a name."

"You're only two years older than me. 'When you were my age' wasn't even that long ago. Also, I'm pretty sure A.J. is the one that's an alcoholic now, Quinn. Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Is he?" I gave a thoughtful cluck of my tongue and a shrug. "Ah well, it's going to take more than that to put a damper on my crush. You know I love my boys damaged, right?" My lips spread into a toothy grin as I took a right at the next light.

"You're so twisted." She laughed as she said it and the sound made me brighten even more. I didn't care how silly I sounded, if it got a laugh out of her it was worth it.

"Well, when we're knee deep in the music world surrounded by all that glitter and gold we have to make sure to keep our heads straight. I could see you turning into a total party girl while we're on the road."

She rolled her eyes and turned to look at me from her place in the passenger seat. "I think you're forgetting which Benoit sister you are again, Quinn. You're the one with the guitar and I'm the one with the books. You're going to be the party animal on the road-"

"And you're going to be right there with me as my manager! I'm telling you, this game plan is perfect. You've got more brains than me by a bushel basket. Are you really going to send your dear big sister out into the wide wicked world to sign any contracts that are put in front of her? I need you there to read the fine print and explain it to me in layman's terms."

She was smirking as I rambled then gave a sigh as she looked back down to the book of CDs. "I think you need to realign your focus, Quinn. It's good to have dreams, but you need to look at the big picture, too. Your big picture. Haven't you ever heard the quote 'Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground'?"

Where did she learn that doubtful tone from? What the hell were they teaching kids in school these days? I tried desperately to keep the conversation light. "And haven't you ever heard the saying 'I'm a rockstar and I don't want any green M&Ms in that bowl'? How could it go wrong? Did you want to be in the band, is that it? Maybe you could be a manager slash tambourine, eh?" I glanced aside at her briefly before shifting my eyes back to the road, a tinge of seriousness slipping into my words. "We'll both be stars, Natalie. You know I can't do it without you."

"I know, Quinn. I just... All I'm saying is that you need to make some plans for yourself. Just you." I didn't have a witty reply to that, her silence was met with my own. She lowered her gaze and kept flipping through the book of CDs although I'm sure she wasn't actually paying attention to them and I kept my eyes straight ahead. I had plans. I had goals. What was so wrong about wanting to share them with the best friend I've known since we were both ankle high?

Minutes of silence ticked on as I focused on the road ahead of us. We were just about there. Once we were in a crowd and listening to some music it would all be okay. I tapped my thumbs against the steering waiting for the light we were stopped at to change. A few stray glances were sent Natalie's way before I noticed the green and stepped on the gas.

That was when it all became a blur. Slow motion although I couldn't do anything to stop it. There was a shriek of car horns, but no time to react. Barely enough to even scream before the sound of shattering glass and metal twisting were drowning us out. I felt a sudden sharp throb by my temple as my head practically bounced off the window at my side, leaving a spiderweb of cracks and a stain of blood behind. I'm sure we looked like rag dolls the way the force of the impact made our bodies flop around in a shower of debris. It felt like the car was sliding sideways forever, pushed by God knows what that crushed the passenger side of the vehicle inwards beside Natalie.

It was so violent. It was so loud. It hurt so bad.

Then there was silence and it engulfed me.

There's no cure for the pain.
No shelter from the rain.
All our prayers seem to fail.

To this day, I'm still not quite sure how I managed to make it through Natalie's funeral. I was a mess. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. But not going was never an option. I was even led to believe that saying goodbye would give me a sense of closure. At the time I felt there was no possible way I could pass up that chance, but I now know that it wasn't true.

Before the crash, Natalie was always so full of life and a glowing light seemed to radiate from her very core. Call me cliche, I don't care. You would only understand if you were fortunate enough to have met her. But that last viewing soiled my memories of her for a long time. It was impossible to picture her contagious smile and remember her laugh. It was all replaced by the her body lying in a casket, devoid of any warmth.

People spoke quietly, though obviously not quiet enough, of how well she looked and how astonished they were by the work that must have gone into making her look presentable after the crash. But it wasn't her, not at all. Why couldn't they see that? She had always looked as fragile as a porcelain doll, but now she seemed to be made of cold, hard wax. Her color was off and although there was no sign of bruising, you couldn't ignore a few swollen spots and stray blemishes on what little skin was left uncovered by clothing or the lower half of a coffin lid.

Above all, her most unsettling feature was her smile, or lack there of. In life, the corners of Natalie's lips always seemed to be upturned slightly. When she watched television, when she read, even while she slept. She always seemed to be on the verge of laughing. But now, her lips were straight. Somber, as if even in death she was truly aware of what was happening to her and demonstrating her disapproval for all to see.

I prayed to a God I often ignored out of desperation to give me courage and help me through that day even if he wasn't with us on the night of the 11th. It didn't take long for me to realize he wasn't with me at Natalie's funeral either.

I lost it, in every sense of the word. I lost her. I lost my fond memories of her. I lost any bravery I had once possessed. I felt like I had lost my mind. I had lost what made me human. I couldn't even bring myself to touch her. I should have held her hand. I should have kissed her cheek. I should have whispered in her ear that I would see her someday. I should have told her how much I loved her. But I felt like touching her body made it real, rather than a twisted figment of my imagination.

I was frozen out of fear of the so called closure I wanted so badly. I felt that the moment I began to let go that she would be forgotten. The real Natalie. My thoughts raced into a soft buzz while numbness took over all of my senses. Before I knew it, she was being lowered six feet under and those who had attended were making their departure with quiet condolences to me and my family. I was unable to bring myself to speak, I could only nod.

There were those who acted as if this ceremony had helped them heal. As if it began a process for them to move in the direction of being alright. A step towards once again becoming a functioning human being.

For me, it was only the beginning of my downward spiral.

I pledge, to get their foot off my neck.
Instead, I shall demand my respect.
I'll fight, even if I won't win.
Alright, the beginning is the end.

Night after night I would leave the house mid-evening only to return once every last bar and club that I knew of in town and along the outskirts had closed in the early morning hours. My parents assumed that I was trying to lose myself in alcohol and drugs out of guilt, but they made no effort to stop me. Little did they know that in reality I was in search of something. Or should I say someone?

My approach wasn?t bulletproof, but it was better than doing nothing. I spent hours filing through every bar I knew over and over again, just hoping the doomed paths of myself and Anthony Towers would cross. I began weeding out the dive bars, realizing that they were below Anthony?s status and what he felt he deserved. I even tried following gossip rags, making notes of the places where he had been seen getting drunk as hell and acting a fool while attempting to score with every woman that got too close to him.

He disgusted me to no end. The lives of my family were in shambles and his was continuing on without missing a beat. The crash, the killing, and the court case were all just minor inconveniences. It only made me more determined. The longer it took me to pin him down, the worse it was going to be for him. That much I was sure of.

Finally, on one Saturday evening no different than the countless others I had experienced week after week, the stars aligned. The venue seemed exactly the same as all the other high end dance clubs I had visited. The bodies of countless well dressed men and scantily clad women withered in sync on the dance floor, drenched in sweat and hormones. I shoved my way through towards the bar, trying desperately to hide my disgust and look like I fit in, but I was failing.

It was then that I saw him. I was sure that my heart began to beat so hard and fast that it was going to give the pounding bass of the music playing a run for its money. He was seated in a sectioned off VIP area surrounded by a flock of women laughing in sync anytime he stopped speaking. It made my skin crawl, but I somehow managed to restrain myself so I didn?t simply go charging at him trying to rip his head off with my bare hands.

I ordered a beer so I looked like I belonged, though I couldn?t drink it, and out of the corner of my eye I watched his every move for the next hour or so. My blood was boiling and I paid no mind to anyone or anything else around me. I had my target in my sights and I was just waiting for my chance to make a move.

Honestly, after all that time, I still had no idea what I was going to do to him. Sure, tons of scenarios had been running through my head during every moment of every day. Each plot was more gruesome than the last, but in the end I couldn?t decide. I only had one chance and I would simply go on instinct. God help us all.

It was only when he started to stand that I began to panic. Was he leaving? I couldn?t let him slip through my fingers! But when none of the ladies followed, I realized that wasn?t the case. Anthony Towers never went home alone. Instead, he was simply heading to the restroom. With only a moment of hesitation I pushed off the bar and trailed along after him.

If there had ever been a shining example of now or never, this was it.

Oh my god, Oh you think I'm in control.
Oh my god, Oh you think it's all for fun.
Is this fun for you?

The beer bottle shattered when it struck Anthony's skull but I managed to keep the neck firmly in my grasp, the jagged glass edges attached to it being exactly what I needed for this sort of conversation. Anthony on the other hand? He dropped right on the spot and the second he was on his back I was on top of him, straddling his torso. Funny, that was probably what he had wanted when he first saw me in the mirror, though, I doubt it was as welcome now. My free hand gripped him by the throat, but knowing that my strength was probably nothing compared to his when he got his head on straight I pressed the edge of the broken bottle firmly to what I hoped was that jugular thing I had heard so much about.

"You, sonofabitch! You don't even know who I am! You couldn't even pick me out of a goddamned crowd! Are you f*cking kidding me, you piece of sh*t!?"

I wasn't sure if he could understand what I was saying considering his eyeballs were practically rolling into the back of his head and he still looked muddled from the beer bottle to the dome, but at the time it didn't matter. I had no filter, obviously, and I was more than happy to simply be screaming at Anthony Towers, whether he was alert enough to understand what I was saying or not.

It was with a sudden flutter of his eyelids I could tell that my little pep talk was getting his attention. He took a sharp gasp of air and shifted as if he were going to attempt to get up, but I pressed the shard of bottle to his throat to remind him of his current situation. His arms were splayed out beside him, but he made the effort to slowly uncurl his fingers and show that he was my prisoner.

"L-look-" He spoke through a cloud. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry? SORRY!?" I cut him off, the words tumbling out in a shriek. If I had been able to sit back and act as a spectator to this event, I would never have recognized myself. But at the time it felt like I wasn't in control. In that moment I was guided by a single resounding thought. She was gone. My Natalie was dead. And he was the bastard that took her away from me. "June eleventh! Does that ring any bells for you!? You killed my sister! You killed Natalie!" My voice was booming around the tiled room, but I paid it no mind. I couldn't quiet myself even if I wanted to, but I had also hoped that the thumping music playing outside the door would mask my outburst.

Anthony gave another rapid blink and I could see realization dawning across his face. "You." It was all he could manage before I was off again.

"Yes, ME! Welcome to the f*cking party, Towers!" My ribcage felt like it might crack since I was breathing so hard and fast. "You're alive, walking around and infecting the world with your nasty filth and my sister is DEAD!" I punctuated the word by once again shoving the bottle against his neck. This time I went so deep that a modest bead of blood started to trickle down the side of his throat.

"You crazy b*tch." He spat the words at me and they knocked me off guard, but it was the wheezing laugh that followed which only made me angrier. "I remember you. I remember you and your family. We already handled this."

"Oh, no! We haven't handled anything yet!" My nails at his throat dug in. "Nothing about this is right! It's not right that you're here and she isn't! It was your fault! It was your fault and you should be dead! Not her! She was an innocent!"

"What about you?" He still looked dazed, but that pompous grin was so automatic that he wore it by default. "You're alive. Isn't that a crime against your dead sister?"

"Her name was Natalie!" The bottle and my nails dug in further. I wanted to claw and cut his head off right there on the spot. I was so far over the edge that I couldn't even see it anymore. In the back of my head I was faintly aware of this, but I wasn't running the show anymore. My thoughts had shifted into a steady buzzing, like thousands of tiny voices were lost inside my mind but none of them were talking directly to me and I couldn't make out a thing they were saying. I brought my face closer to his in an attempt to focus, hissing my reply. "You think I haven't thought of that? You don't think I would rather have her here than me!? You don't think I would make that trade in a heart beat!? You know nothing!"

I was flush from anger, my entire body lit with a sizzling white hot electricity that prickled just below my skin. The steady buzzing was only getting louder now. It was drowning out any of my own thoughts until finally it became so prominent that it was almost unbearable. I grit my teeth trying to fight it back, but in the next moment my entire body tensed up from the pure pain of it all. After that I could feel the sensation of wetness against my hand. I had passed the broken beer bottle far too close to Anthony's neck, but I couldn't make any sense of this. All I knew was that it felt as if my head was going to explode from the pressure of the constant buzzing building up.

Was this what it felt like? Was this what it was like to have rage consume you?

The glass in my hand was hurled aside, shattering into useless pieces at the other end of the room. I couldn't see straight enough to gauge Anthony's wound to know if I was safe now that I wasn't armed, but it didn't matter. I just wanted the endless chatter in my head to stop.

I pushed myself off of him and gave a heavy sway when I was on my feet. Anthony didn't move from his spot. Honestly, I had no idea if that was good or bad, but I knew I had to get out of there. I just had to pull myself together long enough. I hunched forward, my hands planting themselves on my knees while I tried to take deep calming breaths. A slow inhale through the nose and a shuddering exhale through my mouth. Rinse and repeat over and over again.

After who knows how long, it seemed like it was working and I could have gotten lost in this process if it weren't for Anthony suddenly giving a gurgling cough. I quickly pulled myself back to my full height, realizing I had to stay on guard. While I was trying to contain myself he had brought his hand to hold the wound at his neck, blocking the severity of it from my view. He was still breathing, but his expression had turned dazed and there was blood pooling beneath him.

I was finally back, just me, and able to fully take in the scene I had created as well as the blood that was, literally, on my hands.

It was in that moment that I was alone with the magnitude of what I had just done.

I?m through with doubt.
There?s nothing left for me to figure out.
I?ve paid a price,
And I?ll keep paying.

The moment I was outside of the bathroom and tugging the door shut behind me, I was faced with three men just a little older than myself. I could easily read the emotions that consecutively flashed across their faces. Anger, because they all had to use the bathroom and had been locked out by yours truly. There was confusion whether they were beating on the door of the ladies room or if this was indeed the men?s bathroom. Then curiosity about what exactly they were witnessing.

It wasn?t a proud moment. None of the evening had been, really. So, I continued down along that path. What was a little dignity if it meant I could get out of the club before anyone made it inside to see what had become of their beloved Anthony Towers?

I twisted my features into something that resembled a mixture of embarrassment and arrogance. A proud minx caught in the act. The back of my hand was lifted and dragged along the bottom lip, just a crowning jewel on the performance.

?Just? give him five minutes to freshen up, boys.?

Their jaws dropped and they burst into a roar of whoops and elbow nudging. They were so wrapped up in their own ridiculous antics that I was free to saunter right past them. I tried to keep a calm pace so that if I was being watched I wouldn?t seem out of the ordinary, all while cutting a sharp beeline straight for the exit. I couldn?t believe myself or what I had done. But most of all I couldn?t believe such a simple lie had helped weasel my way out of being caught. The moment I hit the door without anyone chasing me down I lost a lot of respect for the opposite sex. They were too easy.

I turned, my pace quickening to just below a sprint down the sidewalk, at least until I could turn the corner again and be out of view of everyone lingering outside. Once I was on another street I didn?t hold back and I probably looked downright silly doing a full blown run, as fast as my feet would carry me, in my club clothes. I didn?t care. It was the least of my worries.

I needed to get home. There was no telling how long I had until they found Anthony. More than likely they had already rushed into the bathroom, set on giving him praise, and were instead met with a battered and bloody mess on the floor.

He knew who I was. It wouldn?t take long for the police to be at the Benoit residence looking for me. All of this time I had been so focused on what I would do to Anthony Towers if I got my hands on him, that I never thought of what would happen afterward if I actually went through with it. But now I was consumed with it as the wind whipped at my face and my legs began to ache. I couldn?t stop running until I got home. That was my only goal now since the one that had consumed me for so long had just been accomplished.

For better or for worse.