Tuesday, December Twenty Fifth, 12:34 P.M…

When Austin had asked me about my favorite song, I had smiled. How could I possibly choose? They were all so good! Identity Disorder really was one of my favorites, but so was The Depths, and Bones Exposed was just fantastic as well… I had to think it over a moment before answering. To be honest, even Zack and Ricky hadn’t thought to ask me these questions. It almost felt like I was…normal.

But as soon as I slipped into my bunk, I fell back into the hole that was my mind. The boys didn’t bother me and I didn’t mind the lack of attention. Instead, I changed shirts and into some shorts that Mary-Ann had been kind enough to give me. I lay back on my pillow, closing my eyes and starting to drift off, although I made sure I was awake.

My dreams were a dangerous place. I couldn’t go there. I’ll stay away from them as long as I could. The more I dreamed, the more I hurt. I can’t hurt anymore.

After a while of just letting my thoughts drift, I decided if I stayed here any longer, I would fall asleep. Swinging my legs over the cold edge of the bunk, I slowly stood up. My joints were sore and my muscles ached but I stood up and stretched lightly. Moving towards the front lounge, I saw only Aaron was out here. Tino and Phil were lounging up by the driver’s cab, talking quietly. Phil drove slowly while Tino talked with him. Austin and Alan were nowhere to be seen, but by the flashing lights coming from the dark back lounge, I assume that the two were playing video games back there.

“Hello, Orion.” Aaron looked up from his book to smile at me. I returned the gesture, waving slightly.

“Hello.” I responded quietly. He gestured to the seat next to him on the couch.

“Please, come sit with me.” He asked. I nodded and shuffled forward, sitting next to him but giving a space between us. He looked over at me and I ducked my head to look at my hands.

“So how are you today, Rory?” He asked softly. I passed a quick sideways glance before taking an interest in my shoes again. I fidgeted nervously.

“Good. You?” I asked him. It was only polite.

“Pretty well.” He nodded and went back to his book. I looked at the spine, where the name was written. The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe was on the front cover. Wait, Aaron liked to read poetry? I couldn’t help but stare for a moment before I noticed Aaron was looking at me.

“Do you read?” He asked me. I nodded, eyes flickering to his face. He was smiling softly. His round face shone in brilliance. “I have a whole stack of books in my bunk. Feel free to read some if you want.” He offered to me. I nodded, actually smiling in excitement. It was a real, a true smile. He turned back to the book, leaning back on the couch. He let me sit with him in silence, not bothering to try and make a lot of conversation. It felt…nice. Aaron just let me sit there and he didn’t bother me. I felt at peace.

I took a better look around the front lounge. It was open, or as open as it could be for a thin bus. There were two couches, a TV hanging above each of them, a little sink/kitchen area, and some cabinets overhead.

“Hey, you’re Rory, right?” A redhead bounced into full view. I snapped my head up to look at him. Alan’s amber eyes happily assessed me, studying my face. I nodded slowly.

“Alan, stop bothering Rory.” Austin grumbled from the back lounge. The redhead with excitable energy that made me nervous came and sat down next to me. He was a little taller than me, maybe about five foot seven, or five foot eight. I was only five foot five, so he had a good couple of inches over me.

“Aw come on, I just love meeting new people.” Alan whined. When there was a small pause, he promptly yawned, stretched out on the couch, and curled up his head on my legs. I froze, eyes wide. I searched around for someone to help me.

“Meow, I’m a cat.” He purred. Aaron reached over and ruffled the ginger’s hair.

“Okay then, cat.” He chuckled. Alan’s eyes fluttered closed as his breathing steadied. Austin turned the corner, putting his hand over his face in disapproval.

“I’m allergic to cats.” I confessed. Alan turned around to look up at me.

“I’m hypoallergenic.” He grinned happily. Well, at least he got me to stop fidgeting. I sat there awkwardly as he turned back around and started to fall asleep. I looked around, helpless at what had happened. A headache started as my mind started to go through every possible thing that could go wrong.

“I can take him.” Austin offered.

“He’s fine.” I mumbled, not wanting have Alan moved again. Well, I wanted some quiet, alone time, even though Aaron was sitting next to me, but it looks like I wouldn’t have it. If I get stuck with Alan, well, fine. I just wanted him to let me be.

“Okay. Just tell me if you need me to move him.” He offered. I nodded as the tall one walked out. I already had a feeling that this would be an interesting few weeks.


Austin’s POV

“Aaron.” I whispered to him. It was eight at night. Phil and Tino were in the back lounge, Alan was up front driving, and Aaron and I were in our bunks.

“Yes, Aus?”

“She was sitting by you earlier today. What happened?” I asked him, leaning up on his bunk. He set down his book for a moment.

“Well, I asked her to come sit with me and then she was staring at my book. I guess that’s all.” He murmured, tossing a glance at Rory’s bunk. Her curtains were closed. I didn’t know if she was awake or sleeping. I didn’t really want to disturb her either.

“Really? A book? She liked your book?” I asked curiously. Aaron turned around, pulling out his Edgar Allan Poe collection book. He handed it to me.

“This was the one I was reading. I asked her if she read and she said yes.” I thumbed through it quietly. He watched me silently. It was dark in the bus except for Aaron’s bunk light.

“I think I found her niche.” I said triumphantly. She liked books, or even more, she liked poetry. Was this her little crack? Would this be the thing to help her? Everyone had something that got them through a tough time. Mine was music. Was hers poetry and music? I already knew she liked our band, but could poetry be the thing that got her through this?

“You think this could help her?” Aaron whispered. I nodded. All the other four boys had read through her folder. They all respected her boundaries. Well, all except Alan who in general just didn’t have a sense of personal space… But she didn’t seem to mind Alan too much earlier today. She had shook and looked frightened, yes, but she hadn’t appeared otherwise anxious.

“Can I borrow it?”

“Yeah, of course.” Aaron murmured before turning back to the next book in his collection that stacked up next to him. He loved reading classics. He had a few poetry books, a couple of fiction, and some historical fiction novellas. I clutched the book close to my chest, walking out to the front lounge. Only Alan was up in the front, grumbling at the radio station as he drove. Slipknot played softly in the background. I lay the book down discretely in the corner. Maybe this would be the thing to lure her out into the open…

Rory’s POV

There was soft murmuring and footsteps near my bunks but I didn’t pay attention to those. I was rooting through my backpack, assessing what I had. There was the two pieces of paper with Zack and Ricky’s phone numbers on it, a couple extra shirts, my sweatshirt, another pair of shorts, the pocket knives, two lighters, and about two hundred dollars from the boy’s wallets.

I saw Austin’s foot appear as he hauled himself up into the bunk above me. It had to be about eight or so, but Austin said he liked to read at night, so he might be up late reading for a while. I smiled to myself.

My sister liked to read. She would gladly have loved to talk about books with either Austin or Aaron.

A tear pricked at my eye thinking about my sister. I wondered if my parents were still fighting, or if they were trying to hold the family together for her sake. For all they knew, I was dead. They would be spending today with only one child instead of both.

Wiping away the stray tear, I curled my toes, shivering. It was cold in my bunk. I should really ask Austin or someone else for a blanket, but I didn’t want to face them. Austin is still scary.

Wait, I know! The front lounge is warmer! I’ll just go sit out there for a while. Sliding my feet over the side of the bunk, I felt my bare skin brush against the soft carpet of the small isle.

I crept sneakily to the front lounge. It was completely dark outside. Alan was driving along some busy road to who-knows-where. I didn’t really care where we were going. All I knew is I wanted to sit down and be warm. The ginger was complaining that the radio wasn’t playing any good songs, so he flicked to a different station.

I quickly sat back down on a couch. My eyes scanned every nook and cranny for certain people hiding. Anyone could jump out and attack me…but no one was here. Good. My eyes landed on a rectangle on the other couch. I slid over to the other plush seating. The book was the one that Aaron had been reading. Perhaps he had left it out?

My hand reached forwards to touch it. It was so tantalizing. The book rested right in front of my fingertips that brushed the smooth cover of the book, skimming over the golden lettering of the title.

NO! I scolded myself. No, it was Aaron’s property. Last time I had touched something that wasn’t mine, I had been whipped! I don’t want to be whipped! I don’t want any conflict. I can resist, can’t I?

But the words called to me. To me, the poetry was like blood to a vampire, like oxygen to humans, like the moon to the Earth. I needed it. I craved it. It kept me sane (for the most part) during the three months with BMTH, MIW, and SWS. That one poem, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, was what my mother would recite to me, what I would recite to myself, what I had painted on the bus’ sides. I craved those words, despite what might happen to me.

So I let my hands smoothly pick up the large book. In the dark, I let my fingertips slide over the spine and sides of the pages, caressing the book as if it was a young child who was crying. I slid the paper cover off so I wouldn’t damage it, setting it on the tabletop to my left. Looking over my shoulder, I brushed back a piece of hair, flicking on an overhead light. The dim LED rays made me blink, adjusting to the new brightness. Crossing my legs, I slowly started to fall into the pages.

My mind was immersed in the beautiful darkness of Poe’s creative mind. I started off with The Black Cat. I couldn’t help but cringe at each descriptive part. The cat, the poor cat, and all the poor souls. A spark popped in my head. Oh! As much as I loved The Raven, The Pit and the Pendulum, and Annabel Lee, I do enjoy one lesser known poem. It was about a little jester boy who was locked inside a prison in the castle. He devised a plan to escape and make a fool of the king and his court. I found that I could relate to the jester boy nowadays.

I turned to the story, Hop-Frog. I felt bad for Hop-Frog as I read through it, but as it came to the tarring and feathering part, I couldn’t help but laugh. That’s right! I laughed! And it felt good. I smiled and giggled as Hop-Frog ran away with the princess, for he had gotten the last laugh in the end.

By the time I had read half way through the thick book, I was now laying down, stretched out on the couch with a pillow beneath my head. My eyes were starting to droop. It was late, maybe ten at night. I had read and reread through so many poems and stories, I had lost count. The book rested on my chest as I struggled to hold it up and read through The Raven for the fourth time. I could never get enough of this poem.

I must’ve passed out for a moment because when I started to return for temporary blackness, I had the book closed next to me, hugging it tightly to my chest as if it was my anchor to the world, and I was lying on my left side, eyes closed.

There were footsteps.

As soon as I heard them, I kept my eyes shut, trying to hold my breathing at an even pace. The light shone through my eyelids, but only the shadows seemed lighter. I couldn’t tell who was approaching without giving away that I was awake.

A voice chuckled softly. Whatever man it was took a blanket, carefully laying it over me and tucked it around my rigid body. He patted my shoulder lovingly. I continued to feign my sleep, all the while, studying what this man was doing.

“Goodnight, Rory.” The familiar voice whispered as he leaned down, a hand resting on my shoulder. I recognized that voice. I knew it from when he entered the bar.

It was Austin.

His fingers pushed back a piece of hair from my forehead before he gently placed his lips on my temple, kissing me lightly. The light clicked out, bringing me further back into darkness. The footsteps receded as the screamer left me alone in the front lounge.

I fell asleep smiling.

Notes