I rushed down the street, glancing around alleyways and sidewalks, trying to find John- somewhere, somehow.

As much as I had a dislike for Julia, he needed to make up with her. It was for both their own good- who knew when she would take her final breath?

The worst that could happen to them was ending on bad terms. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone- no one at all. To know that as you yell and shout at your mother- within hours, she'll be dead.

Prickles ran down my spine as the thought passed. I had to do this for John.

A few minutes of me running through the streets before I saw a broad figure walking down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. "Hey!" I called after him, and he turned.

John, hunched over with a measly cigarette hanging from his lips, his eyes sagging. "I've gone and fucked it all up, haven't I?"

"It's okay, John. I know Julia loves you boundlessly and that she would spend every last second she could with you if she could. Remember that." I ran a hand down his cheek, and felt a small tear roll onto the back of my knuckles.

"You needn't cry. She'll never stop loving you." I patted his back, watching the cig fall from his mouth to simply smoulder on the sidewalk as he let out quiet sobs, latching himself around my neck.

A small prick reminded me of Mum. Then, another for Dad, then Alice, then just about everyone else I'd done wrong in my life, before I realized it was raining, which was typical for the season but added a sort of mood- one that showered down on the two of us from above.

John was still clutching onto me, letting the last of his cries out before just standing there, his head buried in my shoulder.

"It's never too late to get her back." I muttered, not knowing what else to say. "Even though you haven't even lost her."

He would never know the loss I felt. Julia- and Alf, as far as we knew, were still alive. There was still some chance he could see them again.

Me?

For me; every day was a repeat of the same nightmare. Not the frightening, exhilarating nightmare where you're, say, chased by something. No. Mine was the terrifying thought of being alone. Being along forever, stuck in an empty room with no light and no love.

I would never see Mum or Dad again. They were faint whispers in the constant murmur that was my consciousness, always buzzing in my ear, a reminder of who I was and all that is missing in my life.

A faint sigh let out my frustrations as I grasped onto John. "You can still go find her, John. It's not like she would leave your party. She had done that for you."

His head lifted from my shoulder. It felt a tad damp. "You're right, Roxanne," He whispered. "Thank you. I- I have to go. I'm sorry."

He ran off, back towards Julia's home to solve his own problems, leaving me alone under the beaming streetlight. My inner sorrows and demons swirled around in my head, a sick concoction of all that had gone wrong in my life, threatening to boil over. That was my problem.

Ever since I had met John, a monologue carried on inside my head, a reminder that I would never see Mum or Dad- or Alice, now, ever again. I was truly alone in this world.

My throat clogged for a moment before I let out a sob, backing against the brick wall and sliding to the pavement as I cried softly.

"Erm- Heather? Are you okay?" George's voice rang out from farther down the street.

I looked up to see him rushing over to me. "What're you doing here?"

He scratched the back of his head, smiling nervously as he crouched down to my level. His teeth were glinting in the yellow light. "Oh, I- I decided to follow you, I thought you were going home, so then I could find my way back to mine."

His hand reached out for my arm. I slung it away, wiping my eye, which most likely had smeared my makeup. "Why the hell would you follow me? Bloody little wanker."

George froze, and I covered my mouth. "George- I'm sorry- I didn't mean to-" I stammered, grabbing his forearm.

"It's okay." He muttered, shaking off my grasp getting up. "I- I knew I was too young. I don't know why I bothered..." He backed away, turning and running off.

I scrambled up, brushing dust off my skirt. "Where do you think you're going? That's not the way back to Julia's!" I yelled after him, chasing the stupid, naïve boy.

He wasn't easy to catch up to, but I had done it pretty quickly either way. "Wait," I snatched his sleeve again. "George, I'm sorry- I've been fed up recently."

The boy spun around his hair whipping around in the wind. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay!" He cried.

"I- I'm alright. Just calm down, will you?" I awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes darted down to it.

"I didn't mean to make you mad," He replied softly after a short hesitation. "I was concerned."

I took a short breath. "Fine. Great. Wait here. I'll get you home, alright?"

George gazed at me sadly. "What about John?"

"He's got his own problems. Come along, you can call your parents at my house." I tugged him along, not knowing why I called it 'my house'.

~ ~ ~

"They said they'd send Peter to come get me." George reported, setting down the receiver. Elaine was in the front room, smoking with Mimi.

"Peter?" I asked.

"My brother." He murmured, staring at the floor.

I stood for a second, glancing to where Mimi was. That would be rather uncomfortable sitting there with George- besides, Mimi would be asking me where John was. I knew she still didn't trust Julia completely- even though they were sisters. I didn't want to get that way with Alice. "Fancy seeing my room?"

George nodded quickly, following me up the stairs.

"This is it, I suppose." I murmured, opening the door. He stepped in, glancing around. He had this wide grin on his face- it was classic.

"Nice place," He nodded slowly, trying to act casual. He wasn't a very good actor.

And within a few minutes, he was flipping through one of my sketchbooks, and I was sitting on my windowsill and staring out at the sky.

"So, how do you know Elaine?" George asked me after awhile.

I stopped for a second, glanced at him, then smiled. "That's too long of a story. Your brother will be here soon."

He returned my smile. "You don't talk much about yourself, do you?" The sketchbook was closed gingerly. "I wish you would, Heather. I wish you wouldn't hide yourself as much."

We held eye contact for a minute or two; before the doorbell rang. "That must be Peter," He concluded, sliding off my bed. "Thank you."

I followed him downstairs to find a boy who looked somewhat like George, but was a little stockier and taller at the door. So this was Peter. "Cheers," He grinned as George slipped his shoes on. "So you're Paul's cousin?" I nodded. "I can see the resemblance."

George stepped outside, giving me a short wave. "Bye, Heather."

I smiled, waited for them to get out the gate, then closed the door.

"He seemed like a well behaved lad," Mimi commented.

A large crashing noise came from next door.

"Bloody hell, that must be John." Mimi sighed then got up, rushing towards the door. "I tell him every time, Julia's only going to hurt him, and look what happens when he doesn't listen to me."

Elaine got me to follow her, and we had reached the inside to find John sitting in front of an upturned table, crying.

I felt awful for telling him to go back to Julia- this was all my fault.

It was an awful sight, seeing him sitting there so sadly, the most despair I had seen in recent times.

John was so much like me.

"John- are you alright?" Mimi placed a hand on his shoulder.

I was expecting a 'does it look like I am?' Or a 'what do you think?' But all he gave Mimi was a slow, sad, shake of his head. My stomach melted and my heart surged with an empathetic sorrow. I sat down beside him, pulling him into a hug.

"I'm sorry." I murmured, stroking his head. "I wanted to give you a good birthday. I could've helped you, but I just hurt you more."

He gasped between sobs, holding onto my hand.

Mimi leant over worriedly. I waved her off, mouthing 'I've got this'. If anyone could comfort John, it was me. If anyone had to, it especially was me. This was all my doing.

She and Elaine backed off, heading to the kitchen.

"I just want a mum who loves me," John sniffled. "It's all I've ever needed."

"What about Mimi?"

He paused, then whispered. "She's not a mum."

I nodded softly, pulling him closer to me. "Aunts.. Grandmums.. They're not mums, are they?"

John sighed softly, his hysterics slowing down. "I'm sorry, Roxanne."

"Don't be." I patted his back. "Come on, let's get this table back.

He sniffled then let go of me, and together we pulled the table back up.

Just then, the front door opened. Who the fuck could it be now?

John wiped his face then froze immediately, and I stepped to the side to see who it was. Julia, with her little purse and tearful expression.

There was a split second before John ran away and up the stairs, shouting something I couldn't make out. "For fuck's sake!" I yelled at her. "I had just gotten him to stop crying, and you come over here? Piss off, you've done enough!"

Elaine and Mimi had come over to the door. "Julia!" Mimi hissed. "Just why have you felt the need to show up at my home?"

I glared at Julia for another moment before heading up the stairs, just as John slammed the door to his room.

I tried the knob to find he had locked it typical.

"Come on, John. Open it up." I eased, knocking lightly.

Silence.

My feet slowly gave out and I slid to the floor, sighing. "John, it's me."

"I don't care." His voice came from fairly close to the door- I supposed he was sitting in front of it.

A loud burst of shouting came from downstairs- Mimi and Julia- though I couldn't make out what was being said.

"God damnit, this is all my fault!" John exclaimed and got up.

He flipped another thing over. I groaned and stood, fiddling with the doorknob again. "Hey- it's not- let me in!" I pulled two pins out of my hair, jamming them into the lock. Alice had taught me this. I fiddled with them until I heard a click, then opened the door to find John smashing his guitar.

"For fuck's sake!" I pulled the remains from his hands and slapped him. "Calm down, will you?"

He gazed at me for a moment then stared down at the pieces of wood chips littering his floor. "Wh- what have I done?"

"You broke your fucking guitar. Great job, John. You let your emotions get the better of you." I was seething. "Go. Sit on your bed and don't move."

John complied, sitting cross-legged, repeatedly running his hands through his hair, murmuring under his breath and only pausing to watch me pick up the shards of his instrument.

"We'll go get a new one." I told him. Finally, my money from Jack was finally getting put into use. "I can take you tomorrow."

He jumped up, pulling me into a tight hug. "Oh, Roxanne, thank you! Thank you so much. I thought I was done there- there was no way Mimi would buy me another guitar." His arms were wrapped tightly around my back, squeezing me.

"Your birthday was ruined because of me- it's the best I can do." I reassured him, thought it was mostly me reassuring myself.

Another burst of yelling came from downstairs.

I felt his fingers digging into my spine and sighed, patting his head.

~ ~ ~

I clutched the two hundred-pound notes in my pocket nervously as John darted all over the music shop, plucking every guitar and running his fingers along it.

"Which one d'you think I should get, Roxanne?" He asked, looking at me.

Shrugging, I glanced around the shop. "I don't know. Make your own decision."

We spent awhile in there- maybe an hour, maybe more. I was patient.

"I really fancy this one," John said, studying a red acoustic.

"Then get it," I murmured, sitting down on a seat near the door.

He gazed around the store again. "I don't know... What if I've missed one?"

"I doubt you have, you've scaled the whole place three times over."

John pressed his lips together before pulling the acoustic down. "This one okay with you, love?"

I shrugged. I hadn't the slightest idea about nearly anything with guitars.

"Alright. Gear. Cool." He carried it to the counter and placed it down gingerly. I handed him the cash and we quickly paid for it. I had about £90 in change.

"Is that it?" I asked.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Let's get home, I want to try this thing out."

~ ~ ~

"Pass me a pen, will you?"

I stared out the window, watching the trees shudder along with the wind- something was blowing in. Something unpleasant, I supposed. That wasn't exactly the best, seeing as how close to Christmas it was. Meanwhile, at home in Bristol, Grandmother would be toting her little 'Happy Christmas' jumpers like she was a regular citizen, like she had nothing to hide, no runaway granddaughter. No, she had never failed to raise anyone improperly.

"A pen, Roxanne."

"O-oh. Sorry." I gave John a ballpoint that had been sitting on his desk.

"You've been really out of it again," He pointed out. "Something the matter?"

I shook my head, deciding not to confide in him. Thankfully, I hadn't slipped up to George as I had as much with John, he didn't know the slightest. Unless Paul told him.

"You haven't been speaking much."

"Have I?" I asked. I didn't really notice. "I couldn't tell."

He grunted, placing the ballpoint back on the table beside me. "Is it something with Bristol? ... Your parents?"

I sighed. "You needn't play some guessing game, John. It's just my grandmother. And my sister. Oh God, I haven't spoken to her in months." I exclaimed, coming to the sudden realization.

"So?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "So- I promised I'd telephone her every day!"

"You should phone her."

John was staring at me, shifting a little. I groaned and got up, dialling Alice's number on his telephone.

It rang.

Then rang twice more.

The fourth ring passed with no answer, leaving me to listen to the empty tone of the telephone.

I dropped the receiver. "She won't pick up. She always did back in July."

He rolled his eyes, making me feel a tad self conscious. "Try again."

Four more rings passed and I sighed, placing the phone back on its base lightly.

John pressed his lips together, glancing at me. "Maybe she's at work?"

"It's Saturday, John." I snapped, making the words come out harsher than I had intended. Or, maybe I had. I didn't even know anymore. These angry outbursts kept getting more and more frequent. And I had no idea what would keep me in check.

"Well, excuse me." He shot back, closing the library book he had been writing in. "I'm sorry that I was trying to help."

He stood up, brushing off his trousers before walking out.

I groaned and threw a paper to the floor. It's not like he was going anywhere, though- this was his house.

Rain pattered on the windowsill, and I sighed, watching a car pass by again.

Within a few minutes, there was a light knock on the door. John, holding two plates. "Erm, hi." He set one down in front of me. There was a sandwich and some kind of pastry. "I, ah, brought you food."

"I can see." I droned, then forced a smile, as to not make him- or me- mad again.

He took a bite of his own sandwich, grinning at me.

"Thanks." Picking up the pastry, I finally figured out it was some kind tart that Elaine had been making the day beforehand.

She'd been coming home from work later, I had noticed. Probably even two or three hours later than usual. I hadn't any clue why, and it stressed me out, as I can't stand not knowing why something is happening. Or has happened, like my parents dying.

I shuddered. It kept coming to mind- I had no way to forget it.

"I'm just thinking-" John muttered after a little bit. "What exactly are we?"

Glancing at him, confused, I shrugged. Since he was making no sense, I didn't speak.

He sighed a little and clasped his hands together. "Like- us, together. What are we?"

I stared at the floor. "Uh.. I don't know, John." Nervously, I spun the ballpoint pen around in my hands. "...What do you think?"

"I think we're an item, y' get what I'm saying?" He half asked, bobbling his head around.

I nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right."

His grin grew a little bit larger. "I'm glad. 'Cause honestly Roxanne- we really do make a great pair, y'know?" John stepped over and hugged me tightly.

I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around his back as the trees continued swaying outside.