Hey this is my new story!! I just finished Love is Blind, but this isn't a sequal. It's just a seperate story. So, here it is.

DISCLAIMER: Miley: Blue-eyedchick doesn't own Hannah Montana. Or does she?

Lilly: Wow, you are good.

CHAPTER ONE: My Fault

Miley's POV:

I'm going to begin this... "story" with this completely true statement: What I'm going to tell you is totally and undeniabley my fault. Mine. Miley Anne Stewart is responsible for the death of my best friend. But then, again, maybe I shouldn't start there. I'll start from the beginning.

"Lilly, you have to come here on the double! Hannah just got back her photo-shoot pictures!" I squealed, delightfully into my cell phone.

"Awesome!" Lilly sounded just as excited as I was. "I'll be over in a minute!"

She hung up, and I jumped on the couch to look through my beloved photos again. I looked at the door, ready to see Lilly bursting in on her skateboard. Okay, maybe Lilly was busy when I called her. I'm sure she'll be over soon. I thought to myself as I turned on Celebrity Watch. Guess who was the latest talk--you got it--Hannah Montana. So, I was totally fascinated, okay, obsessed, with myself for the next half hour.

But, once the show was over, my thoughts turned back to Lilly. She still wasn't here yet? That wasn't very normal of her. Then, when I got to thinking she hadn't been acting all that normal lately, I think she was a little jealous of Hannah Montana. Maybe she stood me up, at my own house! I decided to call Oliver. No offense to Lilly, or anything, but besides me, Oliver's her only other friend. So if she's not with him, then I don't know where else she could possibly be.

"Oliver?" I asked after the usual, "hello?"

"No, it's Orlando Bloom. Of course it's me." That was Oliver's idea as a joke. "And you guys call me a donut." I heard him mutter.

I decided to play innocent and replied to play innocent and replied with: "What did you say?"

"Never mind, what do you want?"

"Is Lilly with you?"

"No, I thought for sure you two would be together, especially since you've been talking about that Hannah photo-shoot, thingy." He ended in a "y" to make it sound like he didn't care.

"She's not here. But she said she was coming..." I thought to myself: Where is she?

"You could call her." Oliver came up with a non-donut idea.

"Great idea!" I expressed my thanks and called Lilly.

Her phone rang and rang and rang and rang, until I finally heard my own voice say: "This is Lilly's phone, she can't talk right now, so puh-leeze leave a message. Thank yuh!" It was followed by a cut off giggle of Lilly and me, and then came the, beep!

That struck me as very strange that she didn't answer her phone. Next to family and friends, her cell-phone came in as third on her priority list. Mostly because her mom strongly opposed technical objects, and teenagers with phones.

Her dad had gotten Lilly her cell phone for her thirteenth birthday, and it was the only piece of technology Lilly owned, except for a small shower radio, and a twelve inch "family" television that didn't even have cable. So, when Lilly got her phone, me and her swapped to do our answering machines for each other.

I left a message saying:"Where are you? Call me back when you here this. TTYL!"

I sat there, mystified. Where could she have gone? To the beach? Alone? That's unlikely. With her mom? That's even more unlikely. To the mall? She's totally broke. I couldn't come up with a good excuse for the life of me. I just hoped she had a pretty good excuse for the life of me. I just hoped she had a pretty good one.

Then, I decided to do something I hadn't done since Lilly got her phone, call the home number. All I got there was: ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, "This is the Truscott residence we're not here now, so leave a message!" I hung up, I was starting to worry. It was Saturday, and neither of Lilly's parents worked on weekends. Then, something happened that relieved my worries. My phone rang. The collar id said: Lilly.

"Hi!" I said cheerfully. Instead of hearing Lilly's peppy, cheer-leading voice I heard someone else.

"Hello, Miley." It was Mrs. Truscott. She sounded terribly upset. "Lilly's in the hospital. She got hit by a car."

My head was spinning. Lilly, in the hospital?

"Is she hurt?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so. You might want to come, oh and can you break the news to Oliver?" She sounded so weary, so broken, I agreed.

Dad drove me to the hospital, I burst in there, trying to find my way through my blury tears. Finally, I found Lilly's parents and a sober-looking doctor.

"I'm sorry." He said. "Yourr daughter's gone. She was DOA--Dead On Arrivle. There was nothing we could do."

The off-white walls started pulling together, by knees were buckling. Not Lilly! No! I collapsed on the hard tile floor, but I remember the last thought I had before everything went black was:

She was on her way to see me. It was my fault.

I'm sorry, I didn't finish that chapter before I posted it. My bad. Sorry!

Blue-eyedchick