ACT II: Finding Hope

Not knowing what else to do, Adius closes his laptop. This is it, that was the last of everything that he could recall from his time with Corrina. He had spent days, weeks even, trying to find the right words to describe their relationship. He doesn't know what to do now that he's reached the end, if you can even call it that.

Adius liked to write. Before everything happened, he reveled in his ability to put words to the unthinkable, but now after the last sentence of their story had stared at him for days, he knows that that would be the last word he ever wrote. He doesn't have it in him anymore. Not when everything is starting to feel like fiction.

The boy is sitting at his desk, staring at his fingers when his dad walks into his room.

He doesn't even bother to cry about the fact that the man didn't knock. He had lost his fight months ago. "Come on, get up, we're going out." Adius opens his mouth to protest, but his dad raises his hand firmly. "No. I'm tired of seeing you sulking around in your room all day. I swear if I ever find the girl that did this to you..."

Adius had tired of trying to explain to his dad that he had met that girl and loved her. He also tired of trying to remind people of who she was. Her face was plastered everywhere in town, yet no one could recall who she was or how long she'd been here. It was terrifying, and it made him question everything that he knew. If he were to die tomorrow, would he be forgotten next?

Instead of dwelling, he rises from his desk and puts on his shoes. "Where are we going?" He asks his dad as they exit his room. He doesn't really care. When Adius talks now-a-days, it's mostly just to appear normal. He has nothing of substance to say anymore.

His dad tosses his keys in the air, catching them with a conspirator's smile growing on his face. "We're going to Dahlia's." Adius holds in his sigh. His dad had been trying to set him up with his friend's daughter for years. They had met when they were children due to the fact that their parents are drinking buddies, but they didn't really hang out unless forced to.

They lived in different neighborhoods, went to different schools, and overall had totally different interests. There was absolutely no chemistry and they were barely acquaintances as it was. But there was no use arguing with his dad when he had been a little bastard for the better part of two months.

His father didn't understand what was going on with him, but from what Adius can tell, it isn't really his fault. At times like this, he begins to wonder if he had imagined it all. Had he made the girl and her friends up? Is he crazy?

No, he can't be. No one can come up with a story that feels so real, not even him.

The drive is long, tense, and filled with the sound of the car's wheels turning over uneven roads.

When they arrive, Dahlia is already waiting in the front of the house. She's in a white tank top, white cardigan, and black shorts. Her wavy black hair is pulled into a bun and her lips are pulled into a small polite smile. "Hey. Long time no see little dude." Dahlia is nearly Adius' height. She's also two months older than him, and she never lets him forget it.

As he wraps an arm around her waist, he whispers, "Good to see you." A frown mares the girl's features at the lackluster response. Adius was usually always ready to argue with her. He would say something about her needing heels to be taller than him or he would point out that she was a centimeter away from failing the school year and was about to be left behind. Then she would punch his arm and huff as she spun away, and he would chase after her with a smug smile on his face.

His expression was off-putting as well. "My dad's in the back Mr Al," She states as she continues to look at the boy's distressed face. As his dad leaves, she asks him, "Okay, what's up? What's wrong with you?" He wasn't going to say anything. Really, he had resolved to live the rest of his days in somber silence. But then he sees himself reflected in Dahlia's nearly black eyes.

He sees the bags under his eyes and the permanent frown in his brows. And he breaks.

In all the time that had passed, Adius had managed to keep his tears to himself. He had managed to keep it together. But he can't anymore. His mouth opens and everything just spills out. "She's gone." He cries. "Dahlia, she's gone and no one cares." A tightness builds in his chest and a ball forms in his throat. He's suddenly finding it very hard to breathe.

The girl steps forward and wraps her arm around him, pulling his head to her shoulder. She licks her lips, uncertain as she rubs his back. Adius lets himself shudder and shake on her shoulder, tears slipping down his cheeks and burying themselves in between the fabric of her knitted cardigan.

He can see the blood and the glass from the SUV's windshield. He can see her twitching fingers and her matted hair embedded in the truck's grill. But he can't see her face, not anymore. Dahlia begins to move them into the house.

She somehow gets them to her room and she somehow gets him settled on her bed. She then gets him to open up. He tells her everything. He tells her how they met, how she made him feel, how beautiful he thought she was, how tragically she died. And she sits there and she listens, giving her shoulder and her acknowledgement at the right times.

By the end of his story, his eyes have dried and his head has gained a steady pulsing pain. Dahlia sits, thinking. "There's one thing I don't get," She starts, turning back to face him. "Why haven't you opened her package?" He shrugs.

Rubbing at his nose, he responds, "Out of fear I guess. I don't want to ruin what's in it, and I also don't want to acknowledge what it means." Her eyebrows scrunch up, so he elaborates. "She sent the package before she died, wouldn't that mean that she had been planning to kill herself? I don't want to think about the fact that she had been suicidal and I hadn't even noticed."

He also doesn't want to accept what he might have seen that night.

He rises, wiping at his eyes. "I'm going to go fix my face before they call us down to eat." He leaves before she can say anything else. Entering the bathroom, he turns on the faucet and starts to rinse his face. He sighs, the cool water feels refreshing against his hot skin.

Eyes closed, he lifts his head.

"Adonis?"

His eyes snap open.

"Adonis?" He turns as his eyes meet hers through the mirror. "What the hell?" He asks himself.

"I missed you," The girl says, her brown eyes murky with tears. She looks just like she did the first day he met her. Her curls are as wild as ever and interwoven is a string of yellow flowers. She wears a maxi skirt and a loose blouse. Her feet are bare, her toes painted white. She stands right in front of him.

Turning, Adius walks to her, hand out as if to touch her face. "Hope?" The word sounds broken as it slips off of his tongue. She nods her head, tears springing loose. When his hand almost makes it to her cheek, she pulls away.

"I need your help, Adonis." He can't control his body as his head nods.

"Anything," He voices. He would do anything for her, even ignore the rational.

"It's time to bring me back..." She leans forward again. Her plush lips are painted red, and they're the only thing he can stare at. "You can bring me back, Adonis... Open the package... Bring me back." His eyes close as her lips brush his, but suddenly the sensation is gone and a banging on the door is all he can hear.

When his eyes open, she's gone, but she left with him the blossoming feeling of Hope.