Okay, so I had this posted on my dA, and even though I never thought I would, I decided to post this up here. Originally called "Broken Melody" over there, but I decided to just leave it at "Broken" over here.

Guys, you're gonna kill me for writing this.

I'm not gonna spoil too much, except that it's a little angsty, but I'm pretty happy with how it came out. It's not what I'm used to writing, so I'm sorry if it's kind of bad.

So anyways, hope you enjoy! (:

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TDI.

--

"You can't hide in there forever." Her pulse raced in an almost dead motion as she continued to push herself against the door, weak enough as she was. The other side was winning, and that was as obvious as it got; two against one, strong against frail. Why wasn't she giving up? It was pointless to try; reckless to even bother.

They kept knocking, pounding, their fists with deep sighs following. Why wasn't she opening up? They were trying to help her.

They just don't understand, she told herself.

She's going insane, they thought at the same time.

Minutes past until either made a significant motion. There was tension between the walls, and it made everything seem darker. Not that it wasn't getting pretty dark already-the sky was a weird charchoal-blue shade and it was roughly half past nine. She was trapped between four walls that seemed to catch up with her wherever on the rare event she left her apartment. There was no way out.

A thin shadow cast upon the open window. Cold air seeped through, and the old curtains blew along with it. There was, she reminded herself, a temporary way out.

"Open up, already!" The woman's voice, familiar yet somewhat cold to her, seemed desperate. But it was more like an irritating type of desperate, more so to an ultimately desperate type of desperate.

Gwen was experiencing an ultimately desperate type of desperate.

A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she grabbed her coat and walked over to the window and stared twenty-three stories down. And jumped.

--

She was more surprised than relieved to find herself at the bottom of twenty-three stories down, and not dead. Dazed, it took her a few minutes to process a few things-who she was (Gwendolyn Rimando; the one person she did not want to be at that very moment), where she was (somewhere in New Brunswick, cheek-down to the coarse pavement, with her view at people's feet, walking the other direction), and what exactly she was doing-oh yeah-running away. From her own apartment.

It sounded crazy when the statement was left just like that, but once the fact that she was also running away from say, people trying to help her-was added, it made sense.

Or made her seem…like she had no clue what she was thinking.

Bird-brained. Slow. Drugged. Insane.

By then the temperature had dropped to below '0', and it was chilly even beneath her coat. She couldn't feel her limbs, she couldn't feel her heart. It was as if it had been ripped out a thousand times, yet never put back. Her tears had frozen, and it was so cold her toes could've fallen off right there, on the spot.

Then she noticed she wasn't breathing.

Well, she was, technically. But barely. Gwen wasn't breathing enough to stop her from knocking into mostly-unconsciousness, and falling to the ground with a loud thud.

It was strange though, because she was also dreaming. In her dream she saw many clouds, and then the sun, brighter than before-

Her dreams shifted, and this one seemed very real.

A second-hand civic drove over to where she was; a woman, light blonde, at the wheel, and a man, also blonde, by her side. The woman shrieked when she saw Gwen's body lying limply on the ground.

"Geoff, Geoff! Hurry, quick! Before-"

The man quickly exited the vehicle, picked her up, and dashed into the backseat so they could drive away.

--

"We're here."

She was awake. She hadn't slept at all since he left her.

"Do you," the woman asked, "want to see him?"

Gwen noticed she was still in Geoff's arms. He and the lady up front had matching rings.

She spun to her feet until she was able to sit up, and stared. How long was she unconscious? It was still dark out, and she could've sworn she hadn't been awake for at least a few days. Or at least that was how it felt.

After about a minute she peered out the window, the glass cool against her face, her fingertips. "Yeah, that'd be nice," she finally answered.

The man nodded, and all three of them stepped out.

She'd gotten very skinny. You could see her cheekbones, and her eyes were dead; lost. She decided to walk ahead.

Geoff turned to the light blonde, who walked beside him as they intertwined fingers. No words, just looks, that meant the words.

What are we supposed to do with her?

Her name was Bridgette, and she bit her lip as she sighed. I don't know.

Gwen trudged up the hill and bent down at his stone. She read his name again, just to make sure that it wasn't just a dream. Maybe it's someone else. Maybe-

It wasn't.

The wind blew in a harsh sort of way, her hair floating with it.

If only I-

"Are you alright?" She felt a tap on her shoulder. It felt warm.

She didn't answer. She didn't have one, and she doubted she ever would.

Over by his grave she spotted a marigold. In the middle of the snow, in the middle of the winter, but still there. Not wilted; alive, glowing. She plucked it and set it by the stone.

"He'd always get me marigolds," she explained, almost reluctantly. "It'd be…nice to have a part of me up there…with him."

The other two just nodded, and they stayed there for another half hour for a silent prayer.

"Are you ready to go?" Bridgette asked, already starting her way back.

Where? He'd want her to go, wherever it was, she liked to think. He'd like to see her happy.

The three headed to the civic, and in what seemed just a moment, they were gone.

--

"Do you remember that one time we stared at the stars, the whole night, back when we were still on the island?" He yawned as he pulled her close, and she put her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I remember."

He smiled. "Seems so long ago, huh?"

"Mhmm."

They watched the sky that night, just like they had three years ago on the exact same day, at the exact same hour, the same minute and number of seconds. A shooting star flew down, glowing as fast as it descended.

--

I hope you guys liked it. (:

And, umm, for all his fans (me included) I'm so sorry. But it was an idea that wouldn't go away!

So...click the purple button for me? C: