Sonata

Go back to the beginning of time where the clock of history hasn't been conceived to tick yet. It's a long distance; too much for one human being to recount and had to be collected as a combined effort. The only metaphor to put this into perspective for you is to say that the birth of existence is the very line creating the horizon: so far away to imagine, but can be seen clearly. Too bold to be ignored.

Can you see it?

With the immaturity of that long period ago, savagery and vicious desperation were main characteristics of every breathing organism. This is where "Survival of the Fittest" came about- it stemmed from the precise moment creation did.
Competition at its finest.

It is still very much alive and breathing, both however mostly reserved for the animal kingdom. Humans have come a long way by simply encompassing a frontal lobe; for possessing the ability to think and feel. It was trial and error from the start though; free thinking could be regarded as a super power that had to be used wisely, but since when have humans been wise? An entire duplicate of Mt. Everest could be constructed with evidence to support this.

Behind the facade that is only upheld by a handful of wealthy countries is a very dirty history that cannot be swept up so easily. Everyone is eventually informed through the books that the people before themselves were ruthless enough to burn innocent women at the stake or work anyone with the Star of David to death. With evolution of rationale, logic would imply that such behavior is no longer in action except scarcely in third-world countries.

That's what Evelyn thought until she read the paper a week after Oli's arrest.

Her immune system had exponentially weakened due to stress over the fate of her courageous boyfriend; she had cut back on eating, being productive, without the real urge to fulfill her days. She had completed a revolution, or 180, back to where her conscience was months before, when she hadn't met the boys.

Even now, with Oli gone, it was as though they had never acknowledged her existence. Not one of them had attempted a phone call or visit, only adding to Evelyn's depression. The only contact she had with anyone was with the detestable Carolyne who's snide remarks and impatient demands reminded the 24-yr-old that it was not missed in the moments she were truly happy. Lying in a queen sized bed, while comfortable, still couldn't relax her with a fire breathing bitch dragon heaving its hot steam down her neck and not friends to retrieve her from Hell.

She was being cooped up in a hospital in a coma; being cared and cleaned after, but wanting more than anything to get out and live freely again and possibly forget the past.
At least the last horrid bit.

She'd cut off her nose and breathe through her mouth for the rest of her life just to have this granted.

For the time being, she could only try to enjoy stale, daytime television or acquire a new hobby like suffocation or cutting.
Alcoholism if she wanted periodic warnings via death.

A cynical attitude like that had no choice but to form, if you still wanted to add onto her shit list. When bad things happen to people, bad things come out of their mouth. They are sucked dry by misfortune and left sour; intolerant of any more bullshit or positivity others feed them. It's almost permanently paralyzing, or being stuck in a maze by unintentionally taking the same directions, repeating circles. The victim either had no control over their condition or didn't know how to look beyond the box by harvesting the power to new ideas.

Evelyn was more on the side of the second one to an even worse degree because she had ultimately become lazy. Cutting her slack for her boyfriend's imprisonment and total abandonment from her friends, a week of moping about it should have been long enough to figure out ways to continue progressing. An outsider's perspective would most-likely drag this 24-yr-old out of bed and force her back outside to do something with her limited, youthful life.

Right now, however, you might want to stop and cut her another slice of slack; lay a hand on her shoulder; embrace her as she sobs, for the headline on the paper she was holding read: "Oliver Scott Sykes Execution Date Set!

Evelyn blinked; hands dropping the paper at her feet.
A lump in her throat was growing, and at full size, spewed dull claws and used the esophagus it lived in as a rock-climbing wall, then her eyes melted a little more as tears squirted out, and her frame turned feeble once she collapsed.
All in the span of three seconds.

A cliche is one for a reason, because it holds truth and satisfies the need to explain what it covers. "Things could always get worse" qualifies here. She thought she had hit rock bottom, only for the floor to be made of leaves that led to a sharp trap that meant instant death.

She felt like she died in that moment.

In hysteria, she roared her cries without the discretion to stay quiet. It wasn't a concern to her; she couldn't care if everyone on the planet heard the echo, because this pain was reserved for Oli. It was reserved for her. To lose someone is like a tree losing its leaves: a small part of you falls off and floats to the ground, and you are a little bit lighter; a little more empty. It will grow back as a new leaf someday, but it will take time and won't ever be the same.

This would affect her immediately and forever.

How this could happen was what she was dying to figure out, although she had a strong and reasonable feeling that her father had a sure part in it. Her hate had escalated, and in a fit of fury, grabbed the remote on her bedside table and chucked it at the wall.

Still crying she yelled,
"I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

A sharp knock on the door, and Carolyne allowed herself inside; slithering unwelcome into Evelyn's presence with an evil smirk on her face. The broken girl stared at the maid, eye-to-eye with Lucifer, and as the witch walked further, the floorboards shrieked in agony; stuck in hell with its maker. She licked her plump lips to smack, grabbed Evelyn's tray of breakfast that she hadn't touched, and returned to the doorway sporting a hand on her hip with a touch of diva-esque.

Being confronted by the woman who had intimidated her since she was a child, the governor's daughter swallowed back the fear to instantly set in and wiped up her tears.

"I-I wasn't finished eating that."

"You would have never started."
Carolyne retorted as he eyes narrowed in on the young woman she cared for but never cared about.

She knew what sadness obviously had the girl in a total low, and frankly, she felt nothing towards. The death of that little punk was a benefit for everyone including the tragic-stricken lover. In her mind, Evelyn was naive and fooled by a degenerate into thinking that she was in love and loved in return. They had only known each other for barely half a year, there was no way it was possible.
The boys also convinced Evelyn to sneak out and break the law with her, how could something positive sprout from that?

Carolyne, once again, knew that it could not exist.

An outlaw being executed was just something that Evelyn would have to get over, and since it was merely lust, she would. Honestly though, it gave the house worker a small smile to see the boss' daughter's world shatter, which was why she had entered the room in the first place.

Like she gave two shits about the breakfast; she wanted a first-hand account of the misery she helped along.

"I heard about your boyfriend...sorry. I thought you'd like to know as well."

Her voice was so cold and dejected that sincerity couldn't even be kind enough to fake. Evelyn would never hear kindness come out of the mouth of Carolyne, and she had accepted that years before. All she would ever donate would be sarcasm and scoffs, which is why she'd rather be alone and depressed than with such cruel company. Without replying, she communicated non-verbally that she was already too drained to defend herself, and to continue would be like kicking a dead puppy, so the dragon let out one last hot breath and retreated to its dungeon: anywhere outside of that precise room. Once the door clicked shut, Evelyn fell back into her pillows and sobbed.

This was the end.
She was doomed for eternity.
...and then the phone rang.

It was the first time in so long that she had heard that ring tone; she knew it very well. It was the Sykes' residence. This confused her greatly, and the poor girl had actually thought she had gone clinically insane because of the sudden news that her beloved was scheduled to die. Was this his parents (or better Carol) calling to share the misfortune of this shock? Was it Nicholls or Kean or Lee or Curtis or Tom to inform her of a vigil newly planned out for their greatest, heroic friend?

She couldn't picture any of them calling from the other line, and yet the number was blaring on the screen. She held the impossibility in her palm, and trying to figure it out almost missed the call before she realized what was happening and saved it by unnatural instinct. Unnatural in the sense that she was so desperate for human contact from the outside world that her body wouldn't allow her to miss its chance.

It had to be informed, and it had to be communicated with.

The most important block of metal was moved to her ear, only able to hear silence. It was unnerving, for the mystery to identify the caller was furiously snowballing and about to roll over her. She didn't want to be the first one to speak, and since contemplating that thought should have been a massive flashing arrow above the shy one's head. He cleared his throat and it was easy to notice that the boy had been crying before, so he must have already known about Oli.

Just his breathing traveled through the sound waves, and it was a waiting game; they were both waiting for the other to start the conversation, and finally, the Sykes' phone sent the message across first.

"...'e's gonna die."
Tom said in a gloomy whisper.

Evelyn placed the degree of weakness in his tone and it probably still wasn't enough; that was her boyfriend he was referring to, but that was his own brother, the only friend that he's known his entire life. Since birth, that was 19 years, and only one more away from two decades. How much sadness a being would feel after finding out that that best friend was sentenced to leave the planet to an oasis or pit of flames will forever remain undetermined until you yourself become that being. Both her and Tom could feel it, and it damn near ripped them to shreds.

She nodded though he couldn't see and said back in the same voice,
"I know. I just saw the paper this morning."

He scoffed bitterly.

"Aye, so did I; vultures could smell 'is carcass alredeh-"

Stopping himself from what would likely ensue into a rant, Tom's voice became distant (guessing he pulled the phone away) and his halfway attempt to hide his frustrated profanities failed. Evelyn gave him credit for trying to keep himself under control even as one of his new sobs erupted. Her eyes softened, and she realized it was like being on the phone with a heartbroken child doing the best he could to grow up in that moment even though he should just let that maturity go and weep.
Tom had to stop being a big boy and just cry.

"C-can I jus'...come ova o' some'fing? My mum an' dad are a mess."

She wanted to add that he was too, and maybe he should be spending time with them on this day where they needed at least one of their sons in their arms, but it wasn't her place to tell him what to do. If the roles were reversed she too would want to get out of a house full of melancholy, so Evelyn said it was alright with her, acknowledged his thanks, and clicked the end button on her cell phone.

As she got out of bed, totally destroyed mentally and physically, she thought deeper about the house that held all her friends; the borderline family. Why did Tom really want to come over if his better acquainted friends were with him? Were they even there?

This spun her mind into larger and more intricate webs of questioning, theories, and worries about the younger Sykes and his environment. He implied that it was only him and his parents at the house, which must have meant that the other boys took off. Something told her that they abandoned the flat maybe even the same night that Oli turned himself in so they wouldn't be dragged along for the roller coaster that is capital punishment. She wouldn't blame them if that happened, but it was an empty and numbing reminder of reality that it was every man for himself; survival of the fittest, and in this situation mankind had de-evolutionized itself back to more barbaric times (in the most modest sense of the term).

This showed that every one of Tom's most trusted friends would split when he needed them most and now he was left with mourning and desperate parents. He needed stability and support in the form of peers but now he had to visit me to get the dosage; she was the last resort.

There erupted a pang in her barely beating heart from the fact, and the part of her that could still think, function properly, and look past the newest tragedy wanted it to bring them together so that hopefully she wouldn't be the last choice from then on because she was the only choice.

Evelyn found her grey hoodie on the doorknob of her closet and pulled it over he head, then proceeded to depart from the chamber that had held her voluntary prisoner for so long. The hallway was vacant of Carolyne or any other worker of the house; a rarity that she took as a minuscule offering from God to ask for her forgiveness for preparing to take Oli away.
She still couldn't fully accept.

Devoid of any expression, she continued until she reached the grand staircase where half a dozen old maids and butlers scattered about the foyer and living room dusting away at particles that didn't exist or rearranging furniture that was still recuperating from yesterday's daily mash up. Lucky for Evelyn, Carolyn was still out of sight in all the chaos and traffic, thus ensuring a clean getaway from the mansion. She sure as hell could do without the dragon's permission because of her own clear adult age, but there would forever be a stigma of cowardice towards the aging Godzilla and she didn't want to experience another instance right then and there.

Just in case she appeared out of nowhere, Evelyn pulled up the hood of her jacket and snuck past; weaving in an ocean of business to get to the double-door entrance, or in this case, exit. This was like many times before when she snuck out in the dark as everyone was dead for 8 hours and having very-possible erotic dreams in such a boner kill of a town.

It was the same thing but with lighting because none of the other hired help could give two shits about the life of a 24-yr-old. She took pride in not getting to know any of them, they would only try to hold her back like Carolyne.

She had taken on the role of stepmother, and she didn't need another, so when she opened the door to the outside and looked back to see no one return the eye contact, she knew for sure that she wouldn't make relations with any one of those people.

Their drones of chores they had rehearsed became the dullest of roars once Evelyn shut the door completely, a tiny euphoric feeling taking over while still close to losing it. It was difficult not to think about Oli and how he was just sitting in a cell not doing any better; at least she had other things to try to distract her from the inevitable, but all he could do was lay on an uncomfortable cot and contemplate if it would hurt, if it would end quickly or slowly, if he would go to Heaven or Hell, what would his parents, what would his brother do...what would Evelyn do.

Would they miss him?
Would he be forgotten?

His girlfriend herself couldn't imagine being faced with such questions, and she knew that Oli wanted her to be happy and not weep, but she also knew that he would want her to think of him. It was that gleam of his semi-egotistical character that put a lighter mood on things, and she tried to keep it alive as long as she could.

He wasn't 6 feet under yet.

She took a seat on the concrete of her horseshoe driveway, waiting for his brother to arrive. It was a sure thing that they would only discuss their dear loved one, and she wouldn't mind if Tom was too somber about it, but if he were like her and only reminisced about the great times then everything would be a whole lot easier.
Maybe she could discover the whereabouts of the majority of the band while she was at it.

Where the fuck were they and had they heard the news?

The growl of an engine was steadily approaching; catching her attention while she was pondering over the crack that was developing beside her. Someone would soon be summoned to fix that.

It wasn't the van that she had been accustomed to and expected to see, but an average compact black vehicle that could only be recognized driver who barely had dominance over the wheel. Tom almost ran a path through a flowerbed on Evelyn's property, but turned sharply to the right; making a messy entrance into the driveway. He left behind a couple of tire marks and screeched his way to a halt, but for someone going through a life-changing dilemma it could be considered "exemplary".

She rose from her place and strolled over to the car with hesitance in her step, not knowing if he was going to grab onto her and release his emotions or pull a pistol from the glove box and eat some lead. People that have been hit so hard are forces to be reckoned with; silent waves beneath the surface that grow to entire tsunamis.
Ticking time bombs.

He stared ahead at the continued path with no face. It may as well have been smacked off by the devil who had his cousin Grim knocking on Oli's door. His hands were at his side and he didn't even glance over at the girl he called to ask to visit with. She figured he needed more time to be alone (a drive over was not long enough) and stood her place patiently. She would give him as long as necessary to help cure the pain, although she knew it wouldn't help in the long run, and barely the short one.

From this point on, they would have to help each other into intervals of content mindsets and then deal with the depression to follow. One would say sweet things to make the other smile or give space when it was needed. This relationship would no longer be a friendship, it was a lifeline.

Tom took the key out of the ignition, the car going silent, and looked at Evelyn. His eyes had already been established as bright blue, but due to crying, had a red ring around the iris; accentuating the beautiful color. The small patches beneath his sockets glowed while under the sun, his face was irritated, and his hair looked greasy; nothing less of a mess.

He opened his mouth to speak, and Evelyn interrupted.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. We can just walk."

Tom gave her a grateful nod, and only said 'excuse me' so she could move away from the door to get out. He wore a baggy pair of skinny jeans that were loose because they had been worn daily for a week without a wash and a Thirty Days of Night white tee. Not much different apparel from what he always wore -he just looked dirtier this time around. She had a feeling that she was the same and maybe he was judging her, but Tom mostly kept his eyes to himself with exception to the sky, ground, or cell phone. He never really looked at his brother's girlfriend and it wouldn't start there.

He led the way, which was one of the few times he had been the dominant decision maker, but it must have been the torn down mood taking control and not giving a shit anymore. Evelyn followed accordingly and soon was in step with her companion; setting their journey down the road to the left of her house that would eventually lead into the heart of Wilcom.

She hoped they wouldn't go that far.

That was the last thing either of them needed: a trip into town. She hadn't been there in so long, and Tom had probably only drove through it a couple of times with the boys and never treaded on foot in such a shit hole. That's all it was to Evelyn now, especially compared to the bigger city that she had spent so much time in. She couldn't even remember when she last went to Wilcom in the daylight hours, and frankly, she didn't want to. Everyone knew she didn't fit the mold of governor's daughter and had no problem reminding her with odd stares and glares from the older citizens.
She wanted them to choke on their prunes already.
Be stabbed in the neck with their knitting needles.
Die in their sterile bed at the Wilcom Resting Home.

Go away.

He didn't seem to know where they were headed, but if they came too close to the undesirable territory, Evelyn would steer them away to walking back home or something. She didn't think they would be hanging out together for too long; he was a wreck and she was a mess and he seemed to only want to say a few sentences before he hopped back in his car and left.

"What happened to the van?"
She asked.

Tom's eyes widened, but quickly softened to a look of normalcy, and she knew there was an explanation in order. He shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his jean pockets; appearing uncomfortable yet safe to do what he pleased.

"Mates took it."

"Took it?"

"Aye."

She shouldn't have expected him to reveal much. Tom was a closed off person where interrogation would repeatedly hit a brick wall when questioning him. She didn't want to go down that path, but it just sort of happened. She was curious about the other boys and what Tom was actually doing there walking next to her when he should have been crying in bed or his parents' arms.

Evelyn didn't want this simple line of non-revealing communication to become an altercation, so she just nodded and continued to walk with him.

The sun was blaring down on them, but it was windy enough to keep the sweat from birthing on their faces. Nice weather, and yet on such a tragic day. It's not like the movies when trouble is known to be approaching or already here when hails of rain pour down on the setting. In reality, you could go to a funeral with a rainbow above your head, birds chirping, all while someone is throwing that ripe dirt on your lover's coffin. Then green grass will grow over it, along with daisies, like God is covering up the casualties of his planet.

"Where'd they take it to?"

"...Dunno."
Tom muttered.

"They didn't tell you or anything?"

He shook his head.

Evelyn cocked an eyebrow at the indecisive 19-yr-old, but took up her promise for real this time of not questioning him anymore. They were together to, what she thought, to talk about the best memories of his brother, her lover. Not make petty suspicions over the location of the van. They walked over a stray branch on the sidewalk, and Tom after Evelyn stepped carefully over it. They were right next to about an acre or so of heavy brush; a lot that no one in town had bought to build their new home and no business could profit from, so it remained empty of human habitat and only various animals and tall trees.

"Yeh know, Olleh gave me a scar once wiff a branch."

She glanced at the side of his face on her left, and there was still no expression.

"Really?"

"Aye. I stole 'is toy truck an' wouldn' give it back, so 'e tore a stick from our tree an' hit me wiff it on meh arm."

He stopped to twist and contort his right arm and pointed to a long line traveling down from the start of his shoulder to a couple inches above his elbow. Evelyn cringed, not believing she hadn't seen it before. It had definitely been from a long time ago, when they were little, for it looked as though it had belonged there.
That scar was a part of him.

She noticed him staring over the deformity longer than her; reminiscing over its meaning and a time when nothing mattered except retrieving your own toys and hitting your brother to get them returned. His eyes suddenly gained a light glow of admiration, then he turned away violently and took off away from Evelyn.

A burst of sadness had overtaken him, and she didn't know whether she should follow or not. If it was her, she wouldn't want to be comforted, she would want to be alone to deal with it on her own and then return with a more composed aura around her. She hated being vulnerable in front of people, so they'd just have to wait until she would fix herself, then come back as the friend they loved.
She wondered if Tom was the same way.

He ran to a tree stump not much farther away, brought his knees up, and layed his forehead on them; shielding his face from her eyes and any possible others that would pass by. This was his moat around his delicate castle. This was his security.

She opted to walk over cautiously until he would bark at her to go away, and even getting to 3 feet of standing in front of him, maybe he wouldn't push her away. Desperate times make desperate people, and these people that you've known as once-guarded might surprise you and open up. After a few more minutes, Tom finally lifted his eyes up to meet his friend's; tear-stained and helpless. His cheeks were slippery with his misery, and his nose was runny.
He wiped the snot away with the sleeve of his shirt.

"The guys are...gone."

"What do you mean?"

His sight grew angry towards her.

"They left, alrigh'? Feckin' left wiff'out meh when Olleh left! Been gone fer a week an' they ain' comin' back!"
He snapped.

The silence that ensued after that was intolerable, and Tom got up after he had just sat down and turned around towards where they started once again. He was so confused and sad and fragile towards everything that he had to leave it all behind. He had no idea why he came over to see Evelyn; he didn't want to be alone in this, and wanted to be assured that he wasn't. His best friends leaving without a trace took a large chunk from his personality, and he knew from then that he couldn't trust anyone.
Not one soul.

He reached into his back pocket and took out the one thing that had Evelyn in a shock once she saw it, then he grabbed one out of the box and put it between his lips. His lighter was in the front right pocket, cell phone in the front left, and he was prepared for this to happen ever since he drove over to her house. The cigarette in his mouth was lit immediately, and taking a large puff, he coughed.

"Where'd you get those?"
She asked in a daze.

"Corner store 'fore I got 'ere."

It seems that Tom ignored his brother's request to start drinking and took up smoking instead. Watching in amazement, Tom tried his best at obtaining nicotine without choking to death. His brother was already dying, surely his parents wouldn't take the death of their last son too harshly, he thought. Venomous and hurtful whispers like this pin balled in his mind but it barely affected him.
He just wanted to relax, and he figured Marlboro was the answer.

"Are you going to go to the execution?"
She was at a loss for anything else to say.

He nodded.
"Meh folks won't, but I'll try."

That was all she could ask. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in that place that was once heaven and would soon transform into hell. If no one else went, then neither would she, even though she wanted to be present. She didn't want to go just to witness the actual death of Oli, but more so he might see her and know that he wasn't just surrounded by strangers in his last moments. The possibility of Tom going made it so much easier on her, and hoped to God that he would pull through.

It was his last chance to see his brother.
There was no way he could miss that.