A/N- okay so I'm just tellin you guys this might be super sad. I don't know yet, I write it as I type it. But it is based on exit wounds by the Script so go listen. And this is all Austin's POV. Gang is around 20-23 range.

Disclaimer: Do not own Austin or Ally or Dez or Trish. Do not own Exit wounds by The Script either.

The day it begins

I hear the doorbell ringing. When I answer it I see it's my girlfriend Ally Dawson. She looks like she's been crying and I really want to know why. "Hey Als. Are you okay?" "Can I come in? We have to talk." After that it all goes downhill. She tells me she's breaking up with me. We weren't meant to be together and she's been seeing some guy for the last three months. I can barely see her with all the tears in my eyes, and she looks like she's been through the wringer. "I'm so sorry, Austin." I love her. I was going to propose sometime next week and now everything is over. We're not us anymore, she's her and I'm me.

3 months after the breakup

Dez visits me every once in a while but after she left everything went… wrong. I became addicted to drugs and alcohol. They numb the pain and make me a walking zombie. I'm living, but I'm not even trying. I'm always crying about how unfair it is that good people have to while fighting for their lives but I'm not even trying and I can't just die already. I've tried multiple times to kill myself but I can't. I'm not strong enough for it. I used to be a hopeless romantic and I used to always believe that there was someone out there me. And then I met Ally at 15. She was so gorgeous working at her father's store, behind the counter. A year later we became a couple and were never happier. Yeah well love sucks. She'll always be the one I'll love and I can't have her.

6 months after the breakup

No one every visits me. Every night I cry myself to sleep. There's nothing for me to live for. And then one day, I go and buy a gun. It's a handgun and perfect for what I'm planning. I start preparing writing my will and suicide note. I explain how she left me and now she's gone, I'm going to be too. I tell her that I'll see her again someday. I leave everything to her. I try to clean my house up so she won't have to do much work, because no offense to her, she's kinda delicate and can't handle dirty jobs. I mop the floors and shine the windows, mow the lawn, and clean all the sinks/toilets in the house. For once in the last half year, I don't think of her once, even though I'm doing this for her. That night I don't cry or use drugs or drink. Something has changed and I'm so exhausted that I don't think of anything. I just fall asleep.

8 months after the breakup

I never thought about suicide again after that day. I joined groups to help others like the earthquake victims in Haiti. Then I get the invitation. It's a simple white card with gold lettering and even without opening it, I know what it is. It feels like fates giving me two middle fingers and telling me to go to hell. That's when it happens again. I relapse and become a recluse. The drug use gets heavier and by now all the druggies in town know me. My alcohol use is strictly vodka because it helps fight off the bad memories. In my head the old me is in a tiny box and the booze helps me forget. Forget the old memories, the old me, and her wedding. Even though I tell myself I don't care, I know I do and I always will. The big day arrives and I don't waste any time getting drunk. I go even though the urge to kill him and myself is stronger than the venom trying to push down all my thoughts. I sit quietly in the back pew because of course she's getting married at a church. I'm in the house of God and I'm wasted. The thought is so funny to me I laugh. My laughter has good timing because he's now kissing her and everyone's laughing and crying and clapping. I debate getting high or going to the dinner party but in the end I go, just because it's probably the last time I'll ever see her and that's better than any buzz I'll ever get. I see her smiling, laughing, kissing him and posing for pictures. I try pushing through the crowd to get out, but apparently they know almost everyone in Miami because the place is packed and I can't leave. I promise myself I'll do it tonight, with her happy face a fresh memory in my mind.

1 year after the breakup

I don't do anything today. I just lie under the blankets and try to get lost in my thoughts. After a while I know she's not going to give up the fight to be in my head, so I scream. I scream, and yell and I cry and it hurts so bad. I get out a bat and start swinging at everything and anything. Fancy antique vase, Bam! 10,000 dollar television, Crack! All her pictures,… I just stop and stare. Then I crumple into my mess and hope to die.

1 year, 2 months after the breakup

Again I set out to make my preparation's, rewriting a few things, crossing out some lines here and there. I change leaving all her photos from her, to her husband. He deserves them, and I don't. It's as simple as that. All my money goes to their family because I hear that they're having some hard times. The house I leave to the state, everything else to her. In my suicide note I tell her it wasn't her fault. I tell him I hope he loves her because if he doesn't I did this for nothing. I tell their children that their mommy is a great woman, and daddy is a hardworking man. I tell them not to hate their daddy because of this. And to tell their mommy that I love her one last time. And then I sit back and wait for the bad feelings, because they bring strength. And once they do, I pull the trigger once, twice and sink into the black hole that calls to me.

1 year, 3 months after the breakup

Today I'm in the news. They make it like I was a believer in God and that it was a noble sacrifice to die for one you love. They don't talk about how they find the drugs and alcohol stashed in the closet or the gun in my cold hands. They interview Ally, the only person who ever knew me. She's crying but stays mostly composed. Then there's a light. I get onto my knees and crawl towards the light that's calling to me. 'Hey God. I'm sorry for not being a good human being and I'm hoping to get a second chance at learning to love you. Thank you for letting me into heaven.' And then everything sinks away and I walk into heaven with a jump in my step and humming a tune written by Ally Dawson.

A/N: well that was sad. I'm bawling right now and my brothers looking at me worried. If you guys read this story most of the one-shots will be sad except for one or two. Review.