Okay well this is a long time coming I started it some time mid last year and forgot about it; but I finally finished it off. So I hope you enjoy it.

I do not own camp rock if so the sequel would be very different.

POV Mitchie

I sigh almost happily as sink I into my bed, pulling my doona tight around me. But 'almost' is the key word. I am never truly happy, not anymore, not after what happened. Now night time is as close as I get to happy because of the pills I have to take that to even get that.

I don't really like having to take pills all the time, and if you asked me if I would shove pills down my throat every night before all of this had happened? I would have said no. I would have said something about doctors over prescribing anti-depressants and sleeping pills being stupid, but things change. Now I am scoffing down my pills like a good girl.

But as much as I hate it, I shudder to think of what my nights were like before the pills. After what happened I would wake every night screaming his name, crying, shaking and covered in a cold sweat. It would take hours to calm me down and stop the horrible feeling of sickness. Yes the pills were bad, but those nightmares were so much worse; they were so bad I was scared to sleep.

Now night time is peaceful. I can go to sleep calm, knowing that the dreams would come. Dreaming is the only good thing, the only time I'm not sad. Dreams have replaced the nightmares but as nice as they were they did come at a price.

Tomorrow I would pay for the happiness that I was about to feel, but for now – I didn't care, it was worth it. I'm coming I think vaguely as I slip into the unconsciousness of sleep.

Hug me tight, hold me close
And please say you'll never go
We'll stay here just hoping that tomorrow never comes

I'll close my eyes, make a wish
That things will stay just like this
Lets just stay here hoping that tomorrow never comes

I won't think about that day
When it all just fell away
I'll just stay here hoping that tomorrow never comes

I hear your voice, feel your touch
And for now it is enough
Just staying here hoping that tomorrow never comes

I sit here, watch the sky
In this place you never die
I just stay here hoping that tomorrow never comes

I feel the tears but will not cry
I'll pretend it's not a lie
So I can stay here hoping that tomorrow never comes

Beeep, beep, beep!My alarm's shrieks wake me with a jolt. I look over to the time through my tear filled eyes, turning off the alarm. I roll over, curling into a ball and letting the sobs take over. The sobs wrack through my body, making my chest heave, my eyes sting and my throat ache.

This is the price I pay, the dreams heal my wounds for the night but come morning all they are ripped open again; stinging raw and fresh. The pain is like losing him all over again every morning but even so that little bit of happiness every night was all I really lived for.

After a while the tears subsided and rolling out of bed, I head for the shower. Fifteen minutes and a lot of scrubbing later and I look passably human.

Next I wander down to the kitchen, feeling hungry. I pause momentarily at the door as I see my mum's face half-hopeful, half-pitying. That is how she has looked at me ever since it happened.

I walk over to the bench and ponder how my day has panned out. I let out a little sigh; my day has gone like it always pans out.

Every morning I wake up to the same old tears
After the same old dream
The dream that you are here

I can't help it though I know it's wrong
I should be moving on
I should be being strong

But how could I ever forget your face
Or forget your taste
It's burnt in my brain

And everyone still looks at me in that same old way
Just like they did that day
All waiting to see me break

So I hide out in my head
And imagine that you're not dead

And I know it lame
To pretend that everything's the same
But I know that it's the only way
Because without all that there is only pain

Ewww! I'm snapped out of my daydreaming by something wet running over my hands. I look down to see the milk has over flown my bowl and is running all over the bench. Great, this is just what I need I think sarcastically.

Well, nothing to do but clean it up and fast, the last thing I need is for my parents to think I am spacing out – even if it is true.

If my mum finds out it will be straight back to my shrink Dr. Jenkins. That is something I don't want, not at all. The only reason I have been trying to act so normal for the past month and a half is because I wanted to avoid having to go back. All I want to do is sleep but instead I have been getting up, eating, going on walks and doing all sorts of stuff…trying to seem like I am getting over it.

Well, thinking about acting normal, I go and sit down to eat my breakfast. I'm spooning food into my mouth without tasting a single bit. I don't really taste anything anymore. I pretend to make faces at things I used to hate and I yum and ask for more of the food I loved…but I don't enjoy any of it.

When I eat it's just a show, when it is just me, alone, I don't eat. Not unless my stomach starts to growl. It's to stop from having to see Dr. Jenkins or "George" as he said to call him.

It's not that I don't like Dr. Jenkins…I do and he is a nice guy and I know he is only trying to help…

But having to spend day after day talking about what happened and how it has been affecting me isn't something I want to do. And even just the thought of talking about Shane makes my stomach crawl, makes bile rise in my throat.

"Oh, you were hungry! Would you like some more?" my mom asked eagerly as she walked back into the room, seeing my bowl empty.

"No, no," I say a little too quickly and her face falls. "It was great but I'm full! I couldn't eat another bite," I add with a fake smile. I watch as her face lights up again, not quite reaching her eyes as if she can tell I am faking but is fooling herself into thinking that I'm fine.

"So any plans today?" Mom asks hopefully as if her entire happiness depends on my response.

"Um not much..." I reply, trying to think of something. The truth is I had no plans but if I said that she would worry.

"I'm just going to the mall with Caitlyn," I lie, hoping that she will buy it and wondering how I will get Caitlyn to the mall.

"That sounds lovely. Do you need any money?" she asks, pulling out a $50 note. The sad thing is I think she would probably give me anything I asked for, that is how happy me doing something 'normal' makes her.

"Um, thanks mom," I say sheepishly. I feel bad about making her think everything is okay and giving her false hope but it is better for her this way. I know how desperate she is to have me happy like I used to be but I just don't know how to get back to that.

"Oh, is that the time? I have to go meet Caitlyn in five minutes." I fake, watching my mom lap it up. I grab my bag, going to leave and wanting to get out of here as fast as possible so I can just stop feeling guilty.

"Oh don't let me keep you. Remember to call if you need anything. OK? And say hi to Caitlyn for me," She gushes happily.

"I will!" I chirp whilst rushing out the door, knowing I wouldn't call. What ever happened I wouldn't call; I would just deal with it myself, pretending like everything's fine, just like always.

When I'm outside and a little way down the road I pull my phone out of my bag, grateful that I had remembered to bring it. I dial Caitlyn's number nervously, half hoping that she picks up and half hoping that she doesn't because I have no idea what to say to her. It's not like I can just say Hi, I know I haven't really called or talked to you much but why don't you randomly come with me to your most hated place on the planet now with no warning? Not exactly the most appealing invitation.

"Hello? Mitchie?" I hear Caitlyn ask uncertainly as she answers her phone.

"How… how are you?" she asks nervously and I can't blame her; I have been kind of reclusive and an emotional wreck.

"Hi, yeah, it's me. I'm okay, you know. I was just wondering if you wanted to do something?" I ask.

"I was thinking maybe we could go to the mall," I add, hoping this works as I really do want to see Caitlyn.

"Um, OK," She answers, still sounding like she has no idea what's happening. Well. if the suddenness of all this hadn't caught her off guard she probably would have protested about the mall…it used to take me hours to get her to agree to go shopping, well unless we were going to get waffles.

"Cool. I'll meet you at your house in ten?" I ask more concordantly as the familiarity takes over and I remember all the times we've had conversations almost identical to this. Only with way more complaining from Caitlyn.

"Sound good, I'll see you then," She replies, still a little wary but sounding happy about the idea.

POV Caitlyn

"Cool. I'll meet you at your house in ten?" Mitchie says, sounding almost normal, almost like her old self. No,I catch my thoughts; I don't want to get my hopes up. I sigh, wishing for the billionth time that I have the old Mitchie back.

I groan at the thought of the mall but if it means spending time with Mitchie then I guess I can put up with it. I remember it would normally take hours of Mitchie nagging, pleading, ordering and even sometimes beggingto get me to go to the mall. It isn't really as bad as all that. I mean I don't like the mall, but I always have fun there with Mitchie. Mostly I would complain so much because it was fun. It was almost a ritual back in the old days but Mitchie hasn't asked me to go the mall or called me at all for that matter in a long time.

I shake my head, trying to rid my head of sad thoughts. Mitchie is calling me now, that has to mean she's getting a little better. Doesn't it? Well, whatever means I guess I don't really have a choice but to go along with whatever she has planned as she is on her way.

I look at my phone, realising she will be here in a minute. I pull on a jacket and grab my things together, just managing to find my wallet in the bathroom cupboard as the door bell rings.

"Where is that bag?" I muse as I race down the stairs to the door. Puffing and slightly out of breath. My mum is actually right; I doneed more exercise. I open the door to find a very amused Mitchie.

"Hi," I say, a tad unsure of what to do next. Do I invite her in or what?

"Hey, so I was thinking that we maybe head over now? Is that OK?" Mitchie suggests, obviously as confused as I am about how we go about this. I almost let out a sigh. How is it that after years of practically living at each others houses we are now acting as awkward as strangers?

When I look into your eyes
I see that you're no longer there
My best friend gone with out a trace
I wonder if you even care

Where's that girl I know and love
The one who drags me to the mall
The one who dries up all my tears
Now who'll catch me when I fall?

Every now and then you glimmer
Just like you did before
But in a blink it's gone
And I'm left wanting more

"That sounds good. Just let me get my bag, I know I left it somewhere. Do you want to come in and wait?" I ask carefully, suddenly aware of the fact that she hasn't been to my house since that horrible night six months ago. The night that she got the phone call, the one that said Shane was in hospital. The night I watched my best friend break.

"That would be…good." she agrees, but I can see her cringe and hesitate, balking slightly at the thought as if I had asked her to walk over hot coals not spend five minutes in my house. She is probably remembering that horrible night as well.

"You can just wait here; I'll just be a minute," I say, noticing her relief at not having to go into my room. But I can't blame her. It must be tainted so strongly in her eyes by the memories of that night. I couldn't sleep in there for weeks as at night all I could hear was the memory of her, of her cries.

I race up the stairs, trying to wrack my brains as to where that bag could be. I know it is in my room but that really isn't much help as my room could probably house a cow and I wouldn't know, let alone be able to find it.

Think, think;if I were a bag where would I be? Well, if I were a bag I would stay the hell away from Caitlyn Gellar aka bag loser slash destroyer. This happens to be my sixth bag in the past year.

"Ahhh! I have it," I exclaim with a yell after finally finding it under a bunch of new sound equipment. I give my room one last glance, promising myself for the trillionth time that I would clean it. I head down the stairs again with my stuff, almost tripping.

I'm about to tell Mitchie we could go when I see her looking at some pictures on the wall. One picture in particular. The one taken just before winter formal. The picture is of me, Mitchie, Mitchie's boyfriend Shane and Nate. We were all dressed up, girls in dresses and boys in tuxes. Mitchie picked my dress. I hated it. I thought it was way too frilly but Mitchie had insisted as in she had forcedme into it by holding scissors against my new MIK(Mixed In Key) software. I had to admit we looked good.

I had begged Mom not to put that picture up after what happened. It was too painful to walk past every day and remember all that we lost. But now days I don't really notice it much. But looking at it and seeing how happy we all were it is impossible to imagine that in less than a week one of us would be lost forever and the rest of us would be left with a scar that never really goes away.

"Nice picture," Mitchie murmurs as she sees me, her voice filled with pain. I could see her eyes watering.

"Yeah it was a good night even if you did make me wear that train wreck you called a dress." I say, hoping to bring some humour into the conversation.

" It was a nice dress, everyone said so. There were also quite a few boys who couldn't keep their eyes off you even Na…." she trailed off as her teasing rounded the conversation back to uncomfortable silence.

"Well, we should probably get going if we want to make it to the mall for lunch before the teenybopper rush," I say, cringing, "If I have to hear another screaming thirteen year old yell about how she wants to marry Robert Pattinson I think I will puke."

"Good point," Mitchie says, laughing.

"So what do you want to eat?" I ask casually, hoping she will remember our tradition of going out for waffles as I really want some.

"Hmmm, ummm, let me see," she ponders, irritatingly dragging it out, "what about we go to Wally's Waffles?"

"That sounds perfect," I say, grinning back as she knows very well waffles are my favourites. OK, yes, my love of waffles may have started because I had a crush on one of the guys that worked at the waffle shack. But after going there every chance I could I really started liking waffles.

"Well stop standing there like an idiot and let's go," Mitchie teases, snapping me out of my day dream about….um, waffles.

AN hey well I hope you like it and I really hope you review (yep I know it can get old people always asking reviews) but it would mean heaps to me.

Anyway have a good day and stay safe. Oh and read chapter two if you want to know how it ends.