the Reckless and the Brave (Sequel to Scream, to be Heard)

Memories that Fade Like Photographs

I woke up at about midnight to the sounds of the bus rolling over hills, and unwound Alex's arm from around my waist. He then woke up and snaked it back around, murmuring that I needed to sleep some more. "But I'm hungry," I said. He nodded.

"It's been over ten hours since the operation, so you can eat now," he said. I got up and fixed myself a bagel with cream cheese, ate, and went back to my bunk to check Facebook and Twitter. Alex joined me, drinking a half-empty can of Red Bull. For some reason, Red Bull never worked for either of us. It had a good taste but it never gave me any energy, just a million or two calories.

"I can't believe this but I'm still tired," I said, putting the paper plate in the trash can and flopping back on my bunk.

"Well you wanna sleep some more?" He asked. I nodded.

"I guess so. But you're putting a shirt on before you're going anywhere," I replied, slapping the skin that went over his skinny jeans. He grabbed a random JAGK shirt and pulled it over his head.

"I did it, Mother," he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes before getting back in the bunk and curling up next to him.

"Alex?" I asked. He looked down at me. "Was I dead?" He swallowed and nodded.

"They told me you were dead for two minutes. Then they shocked you back, just before it would have been too late," he said, pain in his voice. "But yeah. You were dead." I nodded.

"Oh. Because I talked to Tom," I said. He looked at me, a rush of pain going through his eyes.

"What did he say?" My eyes started filling with tears, and the tears overflowed as I gathered my courage to repeat the conversation to him.

"He told me he missed me and asked me to stay. I told him that I couldn't and that I had to go back with you. He asked me why I wanted to go back with you and I told him that I loved you and that even though he did what he did I still loved him as much as I loved you, and he called me a liar. I asked him if he would come back if he could. Then he said that if he could take back what he did he wouldn't because we deserved what we got and that our lives were so much better without him. He looked the same, Alex. He even had a bullet hole where he shot himself," I said. Tears were flowing down my cheeks, and I could taste the salty tears on my lips, but I continued. "I asked him why we deserved it, and he said because we didn't love him. I tried to tell him it wasn't true, but he wouldn't listen. Then he told me to go home because I wasn't wanted there. And I did." I tried to stop crying, but the images of our imaginary conversation just kept running into my mind.

"Well he hasn't changed," he said. "Even almost eight years after he died." I nodded.

"He was the same. He looked the same and he sounded the same. It just reminded me how much I miss him," I replied. He pulled the blanket over me and kissed my forehead, pulling me closer.

"I miss him too," he said quietly. "A lot."

"Will you sing me Lullabies? I want to hear it again. The old version. It reminds me of him," I said. He nodded and took a breath, starting the song in a soft voice.

"Maybe I should say my last goodbyes.

It could be for the last time,

And it's not right.

"Don't let yourself get in over your head," he said.

Alone and far from home, I'll find you.

Dead, like a candle you burned out.

Spill the wax over the spaces

Left in place of angry words.

Scream to be heard!