"Yo, the entire summer?" he widened his Texas sky eyes and motioned his hands exaggeratedly. "Ya've gotta be kiddin' me, ma!"

"Alfred, I told you," his mother stressed. "I thought it'd be fun to actually do something this summer vacation. And besides," her identical blue eyes glared up at her towering son, "we need to get out more."

Alfred puffed his cheeks in frustration, "I did go outside last summer, for your information."

She posed her hands on her hips, "To go over to a friend's house and play more video games."

"I'm sorry, but she's the love of my life," Alfred cheesily argued, referring to his video game console. "I couldn't just up and leave her like that!"

His mother scoffed with a smile, "You're such a nerd."

Al exhaled, "I mean, I'm excited we're goin', but I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Just do what you do here over there," his mother suggested, motioning her mildly aging hands.

"Then that means I could take the PlayStation while we're there?" Alfred compromised. Mom shook her head in denial, and he huffed, "Well, that's about all I do. What else is there?"

"Make new friends," she waltzed back to the kitchen counter to finish dinner. "It's not like you'll be the only teenager there, honey."

Alfred took a seat by the island, holding his chin in his hand, and accidently let by, "I wouldn't be if she were still here."

A boisterous clang rang out as his mother dropped the metal lid to the steaming pot on the tiled floor. She defended in a whimper, "It wasn't anyone's fault, Alfie. You remember how sick she was, don't you?"

"She was beyond the point of help, it was too late," he exaggerated in a higher pitched voice parodying his mother's previous words. He slammed his hands on the countertop and stressed,"Yes, I remember! Do you think I would forget something like that overnight?"

She whipped around, "And you also know it would've been cruel to make her continue like that!"

"I said I know!" Alfred tried to get her off his back, finally done with the argument. She respired and bent to the ground, retrieving the lid and setting it back on the countertop. He sensed the tension still lingering around like a dead body, and decided his absence would help clear the air.

He sprouted from the stool and marched from there up to his bedroom. Alfred F. Jones teetered onto his mattress, staring up at his superhero posters that plastered the walls and ceilings. He suspired heavily, "Maybe I should get out more this summer."

"So, you have to leave all summer long?" Gilbert Beilschmidt reared his white haired head to look up at Alfred. The teenaged heartthrob nodded, and the smaller of the two pouted his upper lip as he muttered, "Son of a bitch."

"Well, it's not like I'm your only source of entertainment, am I?" Al chuckled.

Gilbert flashed his red eyes and sassed, "Does it look like I have any other friends?"

The American raised his hands in innocence, "You've got me, there."

The pair reluctantly strode into their next period classroom and took a seat in the very back row. The bell rang on cue as the instructor marched in with the usual group of late students, beginning class.

"Guys, I know you're pretty much done for the year, but we still have one final big project to do." Half of the class groaned as she continued, "So, you know what to do. Just get to work."

Alfred slipped a brawny hand in his hoodie pocket and nonchalantly recruited his cell phone, Gilbert doing the same. They scrolled through their various social media accounts, barely saying anything to each other, until the teacher caught them red handed. After a supposedly humiliating public scolding, they sluggishly put their phones back and started a verbal conversation, instead.

"So," Alfred blew his shaggy golden locks out from behind his thin rimmed glasses. "Excited for graduation?"

"I guess so," Gilbert roughly slammed his cheek in his palm, his elbow widely extended on the desk. "But I have no idea what I'm gonna do after high school, now."

"Well," Alfred tried his best not to hurt his feelings. "Maybe you'll meet someone else?" He glared his crimson garnets up at the athletically built student and reassured warily, "There're plenty of fish in the sea?"

Gilbert rested his head on his crossed arms and mumbled depressingly, "Nice try, Alfred."

"I tried not to offend you, but you've become a pretty sensitive guy over the past few months. It's kinda hard to avoid doin' that."

"That stands to reason," Gilbert yawned like a roaring lion. "Goddammit, and it seems like I haven't been able to sleep since then, either."

Alfred laid on his desk, as well, "You and me both, buddy."

Red eye rapped his fingertips on the table top to disturb the silence, and came out with, "Do you think they'll say anything about her during the ceremony?"

"I don't really know," Alfred sighed. "I mean, she was so close to graduating, I think it's only common courtesy."

"It just stresses me out that I had to bury my baby. It feels wrong."

Alfred related, "Yeah. It's really weird not havin' her around the house anymore, after all those years."

"I try not to think about it. I thought I'd forget about her just for a little while," Gilbert repositioned his chin on his intermingled limbs. "But she seems to be the only thing on my mind these days."

"Mom's just now starting to take her pictures off the wall," the blond elaborated. "Really hits home for me. That she's actually gone."

"I still think that she'll come through my front door like she used to, like, 'I'm back! Did you miss me, Gillie?'"

"We're not allowed to say her name at my house, anymore," Al revealed. He laid on the side of his head. "Dad locked her bedroom door and put away the key, so we're not supposed to go in her room, either."

"Most of his things were moved out, right? I mean, she gave me most of her clothes and stuff before she passed."

"Yeah, but she's the reason why we're goin' away for summer vacation," Alfred sat back up and leaned in his chair. "My parents must feel like it's all their fault, so getting away from it all might help them feel less guilty."

Gilbert grabbed at his red hoodie sleeves and slipped his equally pale hands underneath them, "I just hope everything will be alright."

"Yeah," Alfred agreed as he lowered his eyelids slightly. "Everything will be alright."

Alfred ran his fingers through his golden locks, unable to tame his returning cowlick, and placed his black cap over it. His eyes scanned the crowd and he waved when he eventually found his parents. They appeared exhausted and a bit depressed, just what he had expected.

The speaker called Alfred's presence to the stage, and he mustered every ounce of confidence and coordination in him. The principal handed him a diploma and a hearty handshake before he staggered down the line of other graduates. Beilschmidt shifted from his section of the alphabetical line to Alfred's.

"So, how's it goin'?" he asked rhetorically.

Al smiled, blinding the audience with his pearly whites, and corrected, "Whad'ya mean! We're finally gettin' outta here! 'Course I'm doin' awesome!"

"You know, the more I think about it, the more I believe I might actually miss this place," Gilbert grinned as he glanced about the ceremony commotion offstage.

The jock snorted, the smile still alive on his face, "What! Ya've gotta be shittin' me, right!"

"Well, think of all the good times we had here," he explained. "All the trouble we got into, those funny memories. This is probably going to be the best time of my life, and it's gone just like that."

Al shook his head in agreeance, almost saying something before he was cut off by the speaker. "That's all, so say congrats to our graduating class, and wish them the best of luck!"

The audience roared with delight and the senior class began to descend the stadium proudly. Alfred frantically darted his head behind him to make sure that it was definitely over, but was pushed by people behind Gil and him.

Once rudely escorted off the stage, Al and Gil stood under an oak tree and waited for their parents to get them. The American felt the strong urge to start bawling, but denied it. Instead, he defended, "I can't believe they did that."

"I can't, either," Gilbert muttered, shuffling his feet from side to side.

He continued his rant, "To not at least mention her in the ceremony is like spitting on her grave. It makes me sick."

"They don't care," the German pulled out a cigarette he somehow managed to smuggle on school property from the folds of his ceremonial robes. He lit it, and proceeded, "Do you know how many other students that went here have died? It must get old, time and time, again. They feel sorry, but not empathetic."

Alfred felt on the verge of tears, a few seeing the light of day as he mumbled, "Is that what you really think?"

"Yes," he answered in a rare occurrence of solidity in his tone. "Those people have seen a lot of kids commit suicide during their time. Madeline's no exception."

The athlete hung his head low as Gilbert's words rang through his ears. "You make a good point."

"The way she left is a reminder of how she really felt," Gilbert exhaled. "But it makes me think that she wasn't happy with me, or that I didn't make an impact on her life."

"Kinda makes me feel like it's my fault."

"It's not like it was the first time she thought of it," the foreigner explained his theory. "She was feeling this for a long time, we just didn't notice. And that's where it's our fault."

Alfred threw his head back and respired, "It's gettin' harder, isn't it, Gil?"

Said "Prussian" robbed a final breath from the poison, and flicked it in disgust for the grass. "Every damn day."

"Do you think there'll be a day we'll get over it?"

"Yeah." The mature looking teenager respired a cloud of smoke, "The day I drop dead."

"Alfred! Do you have your bags packed!" Mrs. Jones screeched from the cracked open front door. Her son arrived moments later with his things in tow and she added, "Jeez, finally!"

"I hafta make sure I packed all of my important stuff!" Al yelled back.

He dropped two large suitcases with forgetful intentions and rushed back up to his bedroom in pursuit of anything he might've missed earlier. He scours his dresser and desk for anything he could possibly find to take with him.

He approached the dresser again and pawed at the backside of it until he caught on a pointy metal hook, piercing his index finger. He sucked his teeth, but retrieved the key dangling off it. Alfred pressed his thumb on his wound to clot the bleeding, and he tiptoed off to the hallway. Upon arriving to his destination, he jammed the weathered key in the lock, and forced the door open with careful mindedness.

Alfie scanned his ocean look alike eyes around the forgotten bedroom, and he made his move for the dusty wardrobe. He tested every drawer until he identified his objective, his uninjured hand salvaged an antique gold heart shaped locket.

Alfred ran the chain through his fingers with the pendant in his palm. He examined the design engraved on the front, and the tiny garnet gem implanted in the middle of it. The American and his sister shared the same birth month as their beloved grandmother, the locket being a family heirloom passed down to the only granddaughter their parents had.

Although Alfred had despised it growing up, believing it to be a bit creepy, he couldn't help but to cherish it now. The thought of what his parents would say if they saw the necklace worn by anyone other than its late owner worried him dreadfully, but he made the final decision to keep it with him.

Once everything was secured, the necklace safe in his pocket, Alfred scurried back downstairs and reappeared. "I'm ready! Let's get goin'!"

The Jones family stumbled their way through the airport terminal, Alfred sickened from having thrown up numerous times throughout the flight, and his parents exhausted from tending to his ailment. Alfie turned to his mother and asked, "Ar-Are we going to the house now?"

"Yes," she sighed. "We'll grab the rental car and drive straight there."

Everyone grunted in compliance of one another and made their way to the parking lot, where Mr. Jones drove his family off towards the coastline, Alfred knocked out after approximately five minutes in the car.

For the rest of the day, Alfred slumped around the vacation home. He did not even tempt to go outside, as if he thought of the sun as a threat to be feared. He felt groggy and fatigued throughout the night, black spots in his memory as he recalled events that took place earlier and not quite remembering complex tasks.

During his restless night, Alfred decided that the locket haunted him too much to get adequate sleep. He tiptoed to the stand in dresser and quietly rummaged through the newly packed drawers. There, he retrieved the accessory and sat at the edge of the bed to analyze it.

His thumb ran over the engravings that surrounded the gem, which were as red as his best friend's eyes. Christ, he didn't need to think of Gilbert now. Since whenever he thought of the white haired albino, he thought of his absent sister. He didn't need to be mourning at this time.

Yet, as Al let his mind dictate, mental pictures of the soft spoken teen popped up at every corner. Her sweet aura and kind nature was enough to make her seem like a ghost; as if she was foreordained to become nothing but a memory.

Alfred held his breath as he shook the locket, to see if they were still inside. Granted, the capsules rattled from under the gold. He was tempted to open it, but knew it would only bring back memories of that night. Perhaps, that night was the reason he could no longer feel safe to go to sleep.

"Alfie! Hurry up!" a wheat blonde girl called. Alfred flew down the staircase and met side by side with the other teenager. She had the most vibrant violet eyes and such a young, ghostly complexion, leaving many to wonder if the girl was even real.

"Geez, what took you so long? We would've been late if you were hogging that bathroom a minute longer!" she exclaimed, the toned adolescent took light hearted offense.

"I was not, Maddie!" he fought for his case in unrighteous innocence.

The other blonde rolled her eyes and headed out the Jones-Williams' home front door, walking briskly towards the bus stop. Then, over the horizon, an almost white-haired teen with blazing red eyes waved animatedly at the pair. The softer one of the twins ran up to him where they shared a long embrace.

"What took you guys so long?" the albino, Gilbert, teased.

With Gilbert's arm still hanging on the doe eyed girl's hip, she answered, "Ask Mr. America over here. It was like he was gettin' ready for a whole damn pageant show, I swear!"

"Yeah, well…" Alfred struggled to find the correct words and their usage. "At least I'm cute enough to be Mr. America."

Madeline Williams smiled affectionately, the self proclaimed Prussian staring at her the entire time. Alfred couldn't help but to feel ecstatic for the couple; they were very compatible, and treated each other sweetly. It was like they were an old married couple, just, still in highschool. Jones liked to taunt them by addressing them as, "Mr and Mrs. Beilschmidt". They never seemed to mind.

"So, do you guys wanna see a movie after school, or something?" Maddie suggested. The trio exchanged a few glances, finalizing their decision.

"Eh," Gilbert shrugged. He leaned his face in closer to his partner's and recommended, "But what I would like to do more than that is a little 'Maddie-Gillie' time, if you catch my drift."

The Canadian took the German's hand off her side and held it in her own. "Alfie doesn't have any plans, so whatever 'Maddie-Gillie' time you have planned will have to include him."

He turned his head and playfully scoffed, "Fine, we do what you want."

Alfred smirked; although he did not have somebody by his side, it was still pleasing to see how happy his sister was. In fact, he had not seen his sibling this energized and satisfied in a very long time, considering Madeline's past endeavours.

"Gillie" wrapped his arms all over Maddie's shoulders, his fingers toying with the gold locket she always wore around her neck. "Do you wanna cuddle on the bus, babe?"

"Aren't we cuddling right now?" she rhetorically giggled. The pale boy snorted air instead of laughing.

Alfred remained silent, using his senses for observation. He analyzed the mild bags under his sister's eyes, her hair a little messier than usual. Maddie's overall appearance deemed fatigue, but nothing much more. At least, nothing more Alfred could pick up on.

Maddie cocked her head, "Is something bothering you, Al? You've barely said anything all morning."

"I, I'm… I'm just tired."

"Oh, okay, then."

AN: I've had this story for quite a while now and thought I'd finally post it. It isn't going to be very long, I hope. But thank you for reading!