Status: Haitus For Probably A Month--Sorry Guys!

Speechless.

Remembrance.

Amelia pushed open the bus door, determined to make amends with the singer from her past. Her feet did not take her far, Alex Gaskarth stood up against the bus, his foot digging an angry size 11 hole in the dirt ground.

“Alex I-“ she half expected him to interrupt her and go off on an angry tangent again. She bit her lip, watching the hole become bigger and bigger. Like the problems she was causing in everyone’s lives, issues getting bigger and bigger. ”I’m sorry I never sent you a beer when Logan died.”

His foot paused, his gazes turning to her quizzically. “a beer?”

“Flowers and cards don’t help nurse the pain do they?” She countered. He considered that and nodded. “I’m sure you had no trouble getting your hands on it though…”She mumbled in an afterthought. “Look, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to come back, I did. I just---I had other things that, well, that left me in a bind.”

“What the hell kind of ‘bind’ could keep you from my brother’s funeral?” He questioned in annoyance. “For that matter how did you even find out he died?”

“The kind of bind that results in being locked in a room, half conscious for trying leave.” Surprise and shock washed over his face and Amelia glanced away cursing herself. It was silent, Alex didn’t know what to say and Amelia didn’t want to say more on the matter. “I knew because my Aunt told me. I gave her the number for a PO Box over a pay phone. I did actually spend time with my Aunt,” Amelia went on. “I know Matt probably thinks our parents lied but they didn’t. I spent two weeks with her—drove me up the wall. I took off after that and I would have stayed gone but Matt had been sending me letters and even if I could never reply, I read each and every one.”

“He wrote to you?” Alex was only mildly surprised. Matt had never mentioned writing to Amelia after it had become evident that she had disappeared but Alex shouldn’t have been surprised. Matt had ways of taking things into his own hands and being subtle about it all the while.

“Yeah he did,” Amelia nodded. “He wrote to me for months. I guess when he never received a response he just figured that I really was gone. The last letter actually was him telling me know Logan had died.”

Silence fell amongst the two. Alex had so many questioned whirling around in his head that he wished she’d answer. In that moment Amelia probably would have answered any number of them if it meant that in some small way she could make everything up to the singer.

“Mia,” he hesitated, lost in the memories trapped in his mind. “Logan he,” Alex fell silent, his eyes scanning the parking lot for some way to convey what he wished to say.

“What?” She took a step closer, studying the planes of Alex’s face cast in moonlight. He looked older under the luminescent moon. It was like the moon could peel away all the make up, the walls, the fronts, and strip people down to who they really were at their core; Amelia wondered what people saw in her under the light of the moon. Amelia could see the pain, the loss, the heart ache. But she could also see his strength, his ability to push through the bad scenarios life placed him in. “Logan was afraid for you the most. He never spoke a whole lot about it but I could always see it in his face. Anytime Matt would come over or we would speak openly about you. He worried for you,” Alex nodded softly. “Not over your whereabouts but just, I don’t know…” He trailed off.

“Like he knew something you didn’t?” Amelia wondered feeling suddenly sick.

“Yeah.”

“He saw me,” Realization hit Amelia and left her breathless. She could remember the day clearly now. She had stepped out into the light of D.C and had seen a young man starring at her from across the street. She remembered distantly thinking that it looked like Alex—no, Logan. But before she could react in anyway he had disappeared into the foot traffic and she never saw him again. In fact until now she had never been sure she had seen him at all. Maybe he had just been a figment of her imagination, yearning go home and return to the people she loved, the faces she remembered.

“What?”

Amelia closed her eyes slowly, she owed Alex this much. “I was in D.C the whole time. Logan he…I was leaving the place I was staying at and he saw me.”

“What?" he repeated.

"I remember now..."

In a forgotten nook of D.C dwelled people who were just as forgotten to society. Some pedestrians wondered about the vacant eyed people, who in habited the nooks and crannies of the city but most looked away, not wanting to know and not wanting to get involved. But Amelia had preferred it this way. All she wanted was to be left alone. In the city with dark allies and even darker people, Amelia could handle life. But if anyone, even one pair of curious eyes tried to pry, everything that hung so precariously in the balance would falter. So Amelia hung her head, never meeting anyone’s gaze as she tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while she went about her day.

Amelia had good days and bad days but right now, as the world was still waking it was to early to tell. She'd been awake for hours, staring at the cement arch ceiling, counting cracks and creating images inside them while she listened to the quiet lulling sound of shallow calm breathing that only came with sleep. Several of the bodies cocooned in the sleeping bags began to stir slowly waking with the dawn. Amelia was always the last to sleep and the first to wake. She was always varying levels of cold and varying levels of uncomfortable. Amelia liked to think that after all this time she had gotten accustomed to the cold concrete floor but she knew she was kidding herself. She'd chosen a cement floor with a wad of rags for pillows over a twin size bed with four fluffy pillows and most days Amelia didn't know why.

The small body beside her began to stir and Amelia's eyes fell from the celing to the small form. It was like this every day like clockwork; Amelia would wake before the sun and just as the sky turned a reddish orange hue the body beside her would stir then the man covered in tattoos who always slept against the wall would wake, then the woman on the opposite side of Amelia would wake. It would continue in the same chain it always had and it was this consistency that kept Amelia sane and comfortable, it assured that in her small private world everything was okay and right. And just like every morning the small body emerged beneath the subtle warmth of the sleeping bag, bleary emerald eyes peered up at her.

"Mornin' Mia," the high voice murmured quietly afraid to disrupt the hushed atmosphere. Amelia peered down at the girl before she opened her mouth, a yawn forcing it's way through her lips.

"Good Morning Micky." Amelia replied just as quietly before she held her hands over her head, knitting her hands together, and stretching like a cat, her neck and back arching. "C'mon," Amelia remarked her arms falling into her lap as she finally shed away her sleeping bag. "let's get you breakfast before the Morningers get to them."

The small girl called Mickey nodded mutely, her small hand fisting at the sleep in her eye before she kicked off the sleeping bag and rose to her feet. She wore an oversize t-shirt, her favorite one, though it fell to nearly her knees. Mickey didn't understand the meaning of the shirt but she loved it all the same, it had been Amelia's or more exact had belonged to Amelia's brother. It was a simple shirt, black in color and read New Found Glory across it. It belonged to a band the five year old had never heard of but was a dedicated fan all the same.

"Mia,"

"Yeah babe?" Amelia asked as they climbed the cement steps up into the morning light where the city was just waking.

"Mama didn't come home last night," she remarked quietly, a worried edge to her tone. Amelia peered down at the girl, her lips slightly pursed. The comment made by the little girl bothered Amelia for any number of reasons. The fact that this little girl saw that hole in the ground as her home was just one of them.

"She'll come back," Amelia assured confidently. She had become an expert liar and even Amelia could believe them if she tried hard enough.

"How do you know?" Mickey questioned timidly as they stepped up to the Frank's Hotdog stand.

"Hi Bobby, one please." Amelia stated absently to the familiar man before she continued her talk with Mickey. "The ones who love us most will always come back to us. Even if you get lost they'll find you." she explained. Mickey pursed her lips and sighed, choosing to accept Amelia's explanation. Amelia herself sighed tiredly as her eyes wondered aimlessly, her eyes hardly seeing the pedestrians that began to congest the streets, but then her eyes landed on something she had not expected. A man, only a few years older than herself was staring boldly at her, his eyes unwavering as she met his dark brown orbs through the morning crowd across the street in the square. Her eyes drank in his image, a dozen different faces of those she loved conjured up in her mind at the sight of him. Her mind associated two people with the one she saw now. Two words coming to mind at the idea of them, Gaskarth Brothers.

"Logan," his name ghosted across her lips.

"What?" Mickey demanded in confusion and Amelia peered down at her startled, she hadn't expected the young girl to hear.

"Uhh," Amelia was at a loss of words but when she glanced up into the crowd searching for the shocking familiarity of his face she couldn't find it. Logan was gone and Amelia couldn’t be sure she'd even seen him at all. "Nothing," Amelia murmured. "Nothing at all."
♠ ♠ ♠
Stuck in my house, it's snowing like crazy. In the middle of a white out and a state of emergency. It's so pretty in my woods though I love it.

So what do you think of this chapter? You get a taste of where Amelia came from.

Comments?

Also I wrote my first poem inspired by today's snow day. Let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate the feedback. Snow Day

Tumblrrd.
Formsprung.