Two Years Ago

They say that death is emotionless. It bares no color, it makes no sound, and it has no place. There's only peace and tranquility, as if you are curling beneath the white sheets on a bed that you never have to leave.You can rest forever and never have to worry about the constant complaints of the hellish living looming around you during all hours of the day.

Like flowers in bloom, the petals of my lashes slowly lift from the bottom lip of my eye, streaks of white combing through the small hairs and causing my small pupils to dilate. Staggered breaths deploy from my chest and take the escape route through the opening of my mouth. My mind is hazy. It's like looking through a dusty keyhole in order to visualize my thoughts and memories.

A hammer begins to bash into my skull, provoking small groans of pain as I shift my shoulders. There's suddenly a small tug of my wrist and I feel fingers rope themselves around my arm. An echo of a familiar voice rings out and I delicately crane my neck to the side. A foggy figure sits beside me, saying things that I can't quite make out. I can't make out his entire face either, but I don't need to to know who he is.

After blinking frantically, my vision finally contrasts and I'm able to see the face of my brother, Dylan. The words resonating from his mouth become more clear as well, and I realize that he's saying my name.

"Hey, sis," I hear him whisper, holding my hand to his chin. I don't get the chance to respond before a mannacing pain ignited in my upper torso. Dylan gently pushes me back down, taking care not to hurt me. "Woah, woah, take it easy, take it easy," he repeats himself.

After lying back down, my eyes unwillingly scan the walls of my surroundings, confusion running over me. I have no idea where I am or how I got here. All I know is that I'm here with my brother. The last thing I remember is being in the car, readying myself to take the Avaracil capsules in hopes of ending my pregnancy. But before I was able to, my mom showed up and stopped me before I made any rash decisions. After that, all is a clean slate.

"Where are we?" I ask. My voice is groggy and weak like it hasn't been used in days.

"At the hospital," Dylan answers.

I look down at my figure and notice that I'm dressed in a hospital gown and my body is sprawled out on a hospital bed. A plastic bracelet representing my information hangs loosely from my right wrist. Not only am I in the hospital, but I'm the patient.

Memories begin to flash in my eyes, none of which are exactly clear. They're more like images appearing on the face of a stream, each one distorted and warped. I begin to shutter as each vision washes through me. I see the black of the night sky smiling outside the window, Mom's eyes still foaming from the tears, and the subduing headlights of the other car before my whole world began to shake and tremor. And at an instant, everything goes away, and I'm met with the concerned gaze of Dylan.

What the hell happened to me?

All of the sudden, the door to the room flies open, revealing two other men. One of them is my dad, his cheeks seeming to be damp from tears, and Caleb comes running behind him.

"Rowen, thank god you're okay." Dad rushes toward me with a scampering breath.

"Dad?" I question as he heedfully takes my other hand in his and places a kiss on my forehead. Caleb remains by Dylan's side to my left, both carrying a burdensome expression. I begin to grow more nervous. If I'm okay, there shouldn't be any reason for them to fret anymore. I'm still having difficulties remembering just what happened before I blacked out, but if I'm awake now, doesn't that mean I'm okay?

"How are you feeling?" Dad asks.

"My head sort of hurts and so does my stomach, but okay, I guess." The three of them exchanged worried glances, as if they know something that I don't. "What happened to me?" I ask immediately after, loose hair falling into my face from my collapsed ponytail.

"You don't remember?" Caleb asks.

"Not really. I mean, the last thing that I remember is... driving somewhere." I look towards Dad who now has fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Then, like a blast of lightning, my mind ignites in fire.

Details from before the blackout begin to insert themselves into my damaged memory. I can now remember being in the car, but I wasn't the one driving. Someone else was driving and I was in the passenger's seat. After replaying the scene about a dozen times and placing myself in the car, I see that it was my mom behind the wheel and not me. We were talking about the baby and what exactly we were going to do. She said that Noah had claimed the baby to be his instead of Darian. I wanted to tell her the truth but before I could, something happened; something that caused the rest of the conversation to slip away, and everything after that runs dry.

Dylan looks to Dad, and I manage to detect the redness of his skin as well. He too has been crying. "Do you want to tell her?"

"Tell me what?" I turn my head. "Dad, what's going on?"

He's viciously biting down on his bottom lip, still clutching my palm. Words are trying to make it out of his mouth but they fall short in the midst of low sighs. Whatever is trying to make way into the open, he doesn't want to say it. He's in pain and I'm afraid to ask why. Every emotion transmitting on his face is cold and heavy, his head tilted down just to keep the weight of the impending darkness from dragging him down. I don't notice it at first, but my brother's are carrying it too.

After clearing his throat, Dad disembarks from our eye contact, his saddened eyes now drooping.

"Rowen," he starts. His whole body begins to faintly shake. "You were in a car accident, sweetie, and apparently, it was really bad."

I gasp under my breath, trying to contain the shock storming through me, and the rest of the pieces begin to fall into place. The beaming headlights, the broken glass, the wind being knocked out of me, and the rush of pain that emitted in my gut. It's all there, weaved together like the canvas of a painting, the final result being a devastating picture.

My mom looked away from the road for just a few seconds, not realizing that her actions caused the car to swerve to much to the left. It wasn't until the lights of the approaching car caught my attention that it was too late. She tried to turn the car away, but an angled force that strong and quick had caused the car the flip. We tried to brace ourselves but the impact was too powerful, our heads bobbing around like a fishing hook in the water. I don't know how many times we capsized, but by the time the car had finally taken its damage, the two of us were hardly conscious. My head was pounding as all of my blood was making its way to my skull, the darkness threatening and scheming to overtake me. I had no choice but to let it.

"Where's Mom?" I ask all of them. If she was in the accident with me and I'm alright, she has to be okay too. There's no reason why she wouldn't be.

The distress written on their faces only seems to grow, but before any of my family members can answer my question, the door opens a second time. This time, a man with white hair and an aged complexion walks in with a clipboard in hand. He spots me quickly and puts on a slight grin, and I think him to be my doctor.

"Rowen, my name's Doctor Hamill. I'm just here to check up on you and make sure everything is working properly," he says, walking towards my hospital bed and the machines that surround me.

"But where's my mom?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My mom. She was in the accident with me, right? She was the one driving. Where is she? I need to see her." None of them say a word and I start to grow more irritated and worried by the second. Even the doctor gives me a look that's both strange and sadening. "Will someone just please tell me what's going on!" I cry out, my voice bouncing from wall to wall, sending alarm through everyone's faces. I just want to know where my mom is so I can clear this up once and for all. I need to make sure that she's okay and that she hasn't sustained any server or long-lasting injuries.

She has to be okay. She just has to.

Caleb instantaneously breaks down in tears behind Dylan, quickly turning towards the door and walking out before tears become too heavy to hide. Dylan's eyes also glow underneath the layer of water, though he tries harder to hold them back.

I turn back to my dad to see even more fatigue carved into his face. "Dad," I say. Lengthy and horrifying scenarios begin to write up themselves in my thoughts, all of which I can't even bare to think about. My mother is fine. She's just resting in another part of the hospital or she's too tired to come and see me. She's only here because she received minor injuries and the doctors wanted to check and be certain that she's fine, much to her detestation considering how stubborn she is. That's the only scenario that makes sense. It's the only one that can be true. "Where is Mom?"

"I'll give you folks a moment," Dr. Hamill says before exiting the room.

Dad warms his trembling hands in mine, the coldness beseeching his fingers abnormal and isolated. Sorrow now fully governs him, and no longer can I pinpoint the light in his smile or the joy in his eyes. Everything about him is now overtaken with a profound grief. It's like he is withholding a wounded soul inside of a hollow corpse, and it becomes soreing just to look upon him.

Disintegrating in the ocean of ears drowning away his skin, I can barely understand the words coming out of his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he begins, and my heart drops. "You're mother... she- she didn't make it."

Abruptly, my world comes crashing down around me, obliterating everything in my wake. It's like thousands and thousands of shards of broken glass are being forcefully wedged into my flesh, about to cut into the riveting tides of my bloodstream. The pain now feels like a breathing entity, beating its fists down upon my hollowing body, its screams blowing out my sobs like a candle.

She can't be gone. She can't be gone, I keep thinking to myself, promising to myself that this is all just a nightmare, and I'm about to wake up any second to find my mom cooking pancakes, french toast, and bacon in the kitchen. Then, I'm going to run into her arms and tell her that I love her, no matter who's watching or questioning my motives. The pain that I'm feeling now is only a figment of my imagination, an emotion created by my most harbored fears and darkest thoughts. But after a few seconds, I don't wake up.

This is the truth. This is my reality.

My mom is gone.

~~~~~

Over the course of these last few days, I've been doing my best to get to know Carly. Now that the two of us are temporarily sharing a roof, conversing with one another is strictly unavoidable. We have friendly conversations during meals and when we're confined to the same rooms, no topics rise any deep or impassioned connections that Dylan wants badly for us to have. It's difficult keeping up with someone whose personality is on a pedestal that is two hundred feet higher than your own. She seems to find the bright side in every problem or obstacle. She's also one of those people that believes the grass is always greener on the other side. It's like the more we talk, the more our personalities seem to contrast.

When Dad came home from his job search that day, we was almost as shocked as I was to hear the news that Dylan was engaged. Upon the announcement, he congratulated Dylan and wished him luck and happiness, although his tone was registered with sadness. It was like he knew that he wouldn't be invited to the wedding, and everyone knew it.

Despite their differences, things between them have been better lately. They can now have civilized conversations without arguing and possibly share a few laughs every now and then. I think that what Dylan is starting to see is his father trying to be a better man for his kids. He sees the effort and determination in him that the rest of us now do. Dad no longer buys beer and we don't see the empty cans and bottles lying about the house. He talks to each of us more often, asks us about our days, and he doesn't zone out once. He's truly becoming a better father, and I'm especially grateful that Dylan can now see that.

And because of this, Dylan has made it official that Dad is invited to the wedding.

Once again, I have the house to myself today. Dylan and Carly went out on a date, Caleb went to work, and Dad went out to find a new job again. As for me, I'm both dateless and jobless today.

Over the sound of the television, I hear the doorbell chime gallop about the house, and I get to my feet to answer it. After opening the door, I'm surprised to see Silas standing in front of me.

"Hey," I say excitedly . I soon take notice to his solemn posture, and my smile is toned down a few notches. His hands are slid into the pocket of his jeans and his eyes are tapered towards the face of the ground. "Is something wrong?" I ask.

He looks up slowly at the sound of my voice. "Can we talk for a second?"

"Yeah, of course. Come in." I make way for him to walk into the house, feeling the uneasiness prowl into my thoughts. Normally, when someone says this, it means that something bad is about to happen, but I try not to think about the worst case scenario. "Is everything okay?" I ask, shutting the door behind me.

"Yes and no. Something happened today, and I wanted to tell you before I made any decisions."

"Okay."

Pulling out his hands from his pockets, he also pulls out a folded piece of paper. Because the paper is translucent, I'm able to see the printed words on the other side. It looks like some type of document.

Silas unfolds the paper and hands it to me, my eyes already reading its contents. I was right. It is a document, but it's also more than that. It's an acceptance letter.

I read over the entire letter, making sure not to skip over or miss a single word. My eyebrows furrow as the questions start to spill into my mind. This is an acceptance letter to Quilton Academy for the Arts in Florida, a college that specializes in the arts and music, and Silas' name is written on it.

"You applied to college?" I ask after reading it.

"A few months ago. I applied to handful of them."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to, I just... I didn't know how."

A couple of months ago was around the time he and I first met. By then, we were not included in one another's lives. Our futures were open roads and our presents had no room for love. But since then, we helped one another to grow, to be better than we were before. And with this acceptance letter here, what exactly will become of us.

I fold the paper along the creases and hand it back to him, slightly annoyed that I haven't heard about this before now. Not that long ago, I found out that his ambition was directed towards music. He played the guitar with so much passion and his voice sounded so lively as he strummed and sung the different notes. That was the moment I realized just how much I cared about him, or maybe the moment that I decided I loved him, and he never one thought of sharing this crucial piece of information with me.

"What are you gonna do?" I ask him, seating myself on the couch.

He shakes his head, stuffing the paper back into one of the pockets of his jeans and sitting beside me. "I don't know yet. I mean, I've been wanting to go to this school since my first talent show, so passing off the opportunity would be like throwing away a life-long dream." Silas pauses, his elbows resting on his lap. "But there's still one thing that's holding me back."

"What is it?"

He turns and falls deeply into my gaze, the silver of his eyes hypnotizing. "What do you think it is?"

I turn away as my cheeks begin to heat up. I don't want to say it, but I imagine that he's talking about me. Though it's sweet that I would be the reason for him not going to the college of his dreams, I don't want him to throw away that kind of opportunity, especially if it's because of me. There are still so many things about me that he doesn't know, things that I'm too afraid to tell him because I'm afraid of losing him. Now, if I do try to push him away, I'd be losing him either way.

"Silas, you can't just throw away your dreams like they mean nothing. I won't let you stay here if that's not what you really want," I exclaim.

"But that's the thing, Hewitt, I don't know what I want. All I know is that I want to have both, and I can't. I mean, I physically can't." He leans forward and takes a hold of my grasp, dispute glowing vividly on both his face and words.

My mind takes me to a few months from now when college semesters are at their commencement. College doesn't seem to be in the cards for me, so I'd be left alone while all of my friends go off to start the next portions of their educations. Dylan will be gone, my Dad will be back at work, but god knows what Caleb is going to do with his life.

And then there's Silas. He'll be gone and I'll still be here. We've only known one another for a few months, but in that time, no has ever been on my mind so much. No one has ever broken through my walls in such a short amount of time, using so little effort. And all I can think about now is how much I'll miss him when he leaves me.

"What if you could have both?" I ask quietly.

"Rowen, the long-distance thing never works out."

"We can at least try. We can Skype and visit one another on holidays and vacations. People do it all the time," I explain, trying to savor every last piece of optimism.

Silas drops his gaze and breathes heavily, not liking the sound of the idea. "Look, you and I both know how this is going to play out. If I did go to Florida and we tried to keep up the relationship, it isn't gonna end well. Skyping isn't the same as talking to someone is person. We'd be talking to screens. And as far as visiting goes, how long do you think that's going to last? We're not made of money, Rowen, and it's not like you can drive all the way to Florida."

"Then what do you suggest? Because right now, I'm all ears."

"I don't know!" I'm taken back by Silas' sudden change in volume, and I turn away. He hasn't raised his voice at me in a while. By now, I should be used to it due to all the times we've fought in the past. However, it still manages to catch me off guard.

"I don't know," he suddenly repeats more calmly, regret in his eyes.

I don't turn my head to face him. Instead, I look down at my hands, my fingers in the clutch of my left hand. I focus on my tattoo of Sagittarius and the bracelet that Silas had given me for my birthday, the two complementing each other perfectly.

"What does your dad think about this?" I ask pensively, trying to draw away from arguing.

"He doesn't know yet. You're the only one I've told. I can imagine that he won't be happy about it, though."

"Silas, it isn't going to be as simple as a walk in the park. We knew that we'd eventually reach some sort of rift and that this wasn't going to be easy. We've faced worse than a long-distance relationship."

"You honestly think that that's gonna stick?"

"It couldn't hurt to try." Indecisively, I raise a hand to his cheek and faintly brush my fingertips against the surface. A sad but loving smirk tugs at the outermost regions of his pale lips. "I don't want to lose what we're building, but I also don't want you to give up your dream for me. If you stayed, you would eventually regret it and end up hating me, and I then I would hate myself for making you stay."

His smile collapses and so does the light that once crossed his eyes. "But if I went then you would hate me for leaving."

"No, I wouldn't. I would get over it because I would know that it's for the best," I answer.

Silas takes his hand and uses it to softly sweep mine away from his cheek, only to take it in his own and give it a delicate squeeze. "You say that now, Rowen, but if it ever came to it, you will find some way to be angry. I know you, probably better than you know yourself, so don't try to pretend that everything would be okay because it won't. Remember, I know how your mind works."

I smirk and gaze down at our intertwined hands. "Sometimes, it scares me how much you seem to know me."

We sit in the realm of silence for what seems like ages, wheels turning in both of our heads, trying to construct sentences. I can see in his eyes that he's nervous, and so am I. I'm fairly naive when it comes to relationships. The ones I've had in the past didn't end in the lightest of circumstances, and I realize that I'm actually terrified to pursue this kind of relationship because this is one that I don't intend on ending. I know that Silas is thinking the same as he gazes burrows in my own. I don't know much about his past, but what I do know is that he's lost people before too, and I do not want to be added to that list.

As I wait for him to say the first word, the light suddenly begins to fade away from his eyes, realization hammering through them like a sledgehammer breaking through brick walls. "I just... it's hard for me to see a light at the end of this tunnel for us. You watch movies and television shows, these things never play out the way we want them to."

I shrug, still unsure of exactly what to say. I've never had this kind of conversation before with anyone, so all of this is risky territory. One wrong word and it all could come tumbling down.

Splitting the slit between my lips, I release a sigh, the remnants of my breath falling on Silas' face. He must be as nervous as I am. "You're right. Things don't play out in the way that we expect them to. But for the record, I never intended on loving you either, but you see where that led us." His eyes look up to mine and I take the chance to lean forward and place a small, butterfly-like kiss on the very face of his lips. We remain touching for only a few seconds before I back away slightly, the invisible line connecting our gazes thin and short. "Silas, I don't care what other people think. If we want this to work, then we can make it work. We just have to want it."

"Rowen..." he breathes. I hold my breath. "It's too hard."

"Do you want us? Do you want me?"

Even though I don't want them to, tears begin to arrange in my eyes, awaiting Silas' response. The same war is brewing beneath his lashes as well. I didn't want to do this so soon in our relationship, but I couldn't hold back those words any longer. And now, I'm desperate to know if he feels the same way.

Carefully, he takes the temples of my head in his hands, holding it to his, a desperate look in his eye.

"Yes," he whispers, the syllables brushing against the bridge of my nose.

Relief takes a hold of me and our lips collapse into one another. His fingers ravel themselves in my hair as I tilt into him, taking in all that he is; his scent, his kiss, everything. There is something different this time, about the way he holds and kisses me. Suddenly, I feel something that I've never felt between us before, at least something that I didn't recognize. There's always been some kind of connection between us, a spark begging to become a flame. Now, that spark is burning more brightly than any star, and I realize the truth; the truth about how much I love him.