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Chapter 7

"Everything you can imagine is real."

- Pablo Picasso

"Scarlett."

They lowered it into the ground.

"Scarlett."

I watched the wooden box go down…. Down…

"Scarlett."

….until I could see it no longer.

"Scarlett!"

My body lurched forward, like when you throw up. I felt like I was about to, as I tried to catch my hard breath and focus my blurry eyes on my surroundings.

My heart was jumping out from under my tee shirt, and my whole body shook as I looked around. I was sitting up in a large bed, still fully dressed in clothes I recognised from the day before. I'm in a hotel, I thought.

It was all a dream…..

"Hey."

I turned around to the timid voice,

"Hey." I replied, putting the clothes I had been folding down on my bed.

"What's up?" I asked, when Tom hadn't said anything.

He was standing across the room, his hands in his pockets, looking everywhere but my face. I had replayed over last night a million times in my head since waking up. Tom didn't agree with my decision to not contact my father, and he was obviously going to hang it over my head.

"Bill's getting ready, and Georg and Gustav have gone out shopping, so I….."

Thought I'd come see you.

I nodded, "Oh… cool. Well, um…" I frowned, not knowing what to say. I hated this awkward 'I can't finish a sentence' thing.

"I actually wanted to talk to you." I concluded, hoping to sound confident.

Tom snapped his head up, looking at me for the first time,

"About what?"

You know what.

"Last night."

His eyes dropped back down to the floor, and he pretended to be examining his shoe. What was the matter with him? He was never like this with me.

"Oh."

I sighed, turning to shove all my folded clothes into my suitcase,

"It's not a big deal, Tom!" I called out, keeping my back turned, "It's what I want to do, okay? Can't you just grin and bear it? The last thing I want out of all this is for you to be awkward with me."

I spun around, planning on looking him straight in the eye, only to see his broad chest. I looked up to his face, he standing just inches away from me, looking down with an expression I couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry." His brows were furrowed, his voice was sincere and apologetic. Almost……sad.

"I promised myself I would be there for you, no matter what. I would do anything you wanted, help in any way I could. All I've done is made things worse…"

I stared, dumbfounded, as Tom's speech hung in the air. His head lowered in shame, I wanted to hug him tight and tell him it was okay.

"You haven't." I finally replied, my voice sounding small.

He looked up at my face.

"You've been there for me since he showed up," I tried a small smile, "I don't want you to worry about me, Tom. I'll be fine."

"I don't want you to worry about me, Tom…."

If only she knew that were impossible.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The girl on the in the movie screamed higher and louder than Bill. Which is saying something. Scar, who was curled up in a ball beside me, gave a weak yelp from the blanket she hid behind.

"I can't believe you're making me watch this!" Her small voice scolded me.

I turned to look at her, and laughed. Her long legs were pulled up against her chest, covered in a thin blanket, and she held a pillow up in front of her face.

"You're not even watching it! I laughed.

She turned to glare at me. It was visible, even in the dark room.

"She's being dragged by a demon into hell." She hissed through gritted teeth.

"That's what's so good about it!" I said in a 'duh' tone.

Scarlett rolled her green eyes, and returned to watching her pillow.

I turned back to the screen, but I couldn't pay attention any more. I was too aware of Scarlett, how her button nose crinkled when a horrible noise came from the movie, how every time she peaked around the pillow, she winced, and instantly regretted it. How her legs were leaning against mine, her left arm stuck to my side.

I was too aware of how much I wanted her……needed her.

I was too aware I was going crazy.

Scarlett

"Tom. Em…can I talk to you?"

Tom turned around,

"Of course. What's up?" He asked, setting his guitar down.

When he did that, he knew it was serious. I bit my lip,

"I had a dream." I felt stupid before I'd even started….

Tom frowned, "About what?"

I pushed my hair out of my eyes,

"My mom." My voice was quiet. I couldn't will it to be stronger.

Tom stayed quiet, waiting for me to go on. I relayed the dream back in my head, as clear as the night I'd had it.

"She was dead." I stared down at my hands. "It was her funeral."

Silent seconds ticked by into minutes. I raised my head to look at Tom,

"What if it was real?" I asked, my voice still weak. I hated that.

"What do you mean?" Tom asked.

I shook my head, "What if she's really dead? What if it's already happened?"

I'm not sure why, but this thought scared me. As much as I hated my mother, I couldn't imagine her dead. I couldn't imagine not being at her funeral.

"Scarlett." Tom's husky voice snapped me out of my thoughts,

"If you want to find out, you know how to."

And I did……oh I did.

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Katie