Speechless.

Amelia had spent the last four days locked away in All Time Lows bus like some forgotten Disney damsel waiting for someone to rescue her. But Amelia didn’t want rescuing, she didn’t think it was right to be saved from a situation she rightfully deserved to be in, and she sure as hell didn’t need some Prince Charming to burst through the front door and mix up her life even more.

Amelia had seen the damage her actions had caused, she'd seen how it had hurt Matt, scared Alex, and even Jack was now keeping a less than discrete eye on her in the aftermath of her short-lived disappearance. She had lost whatever trust the band had had in her but Amelia was trying her hardest to redeem herself in their eyes. So if that meant confining herself to a tour bus Amelia told herself she would do it. But Amelia had never been good at being confined to one area, which had been part of the problem in the first place.

Amelia stared out of the bus window, reveling in the unusual silence. All Time Low was hitching a ride with Boys Like Girls giving Amelia the gift of silence. Of course she was not completely alone; Matt was on the bus with her. Ever since Amelia had turned up after spending the night in John's bus, Matt had kept his distance from her. And if his sister knew any better Amelia would swear he was giving her the cold shoulder.

She could hear Jerry, the bus driver, humming a tune Amelia couldn’t decipher and she could hear Matt somewhere in the back rummaging around in the bunks. A sinking feeling began to grow in Amelia’s stomach as nostalgia of sorts took over. The more she thought about it the more it pained Amelia to realize that she herself was no where near the girl her brother remembered her to be and Matt wasn’t even in the vicinity of someone Amelia knew anymore. She hated knowing that she was the cause of that.

There was a time when two siblings had never been closer than Amelia and Matt. You never saw one without the other; they had the same friends, liked the same music, and went to the same parties. Amelia could always finish Matt’s sentences if she tried, Matt could always find the words when she couldn’t find her voice. Amelia found it ironic that now when she literally barely had a speaking voice, Matt was not finding her words, deciphering her meanings. Matt cared less about what happened to her, only trudging through the wreck of it all to try to get Amelia back to the sister he remembered. But Amelia would never be that way again—she just didn’t know how to tell Matt that.

Amelia reached for the notebook she had secretly hidden between the bus wall and the couch she perched on now. She pulled the charcoal pencil from the binding and flipped to the page her fingers itched to sketch at.
Her large innocent brown almond shaped eyes, her soft shiny hair…

Ever since Amelia had recalled the incident where Logan had spotted her in D.C, Mickey plagued her mind night and day. Mickey who had forever embedded herself in Amelia’s heart. It was then that Amelia was able to make sense of the feeling buried deep in her gut since that night with Alex and large luminescent moon: Guilt.

Amelia sketched her small mouth, which spoke endless words of innocence and dreams. “Mia?”

“Yeah babe?”

“One day we’re going to have a fireplace.”

“A fireplace?” Amelia echoed with a small smile. “Just a fireplace?”

“Yup! Then we can be toasty warm and make s’mores at the same time. I love s’mores!”

She sketched the hair Mickey always let her do.

”Make it like Cinderella’s, Mia! Make it like hers.”

She sketched the shells on her shirt, the last thing Amelia had seen her wear.

”Mia!”

“Run Mickey! Run and never look back.”

“Come with me Mia! Come too!”

“Run McKenna Bell!” Amelia shouted her voice hard. “Don’t be stupid, RUN!”

Liquid suddenly hit the sketch and a black dot suddenly inked the page.

“Dammit,” Amelia cursed wiping away her tears hurriedly with a sniff. She tried to dot at the mark but it only smeared, making it worst. “Dammit,” She cried helplessly. “Damn it all to hell!” She threw the notebook angrily, it hit the cabinet across the bus and fell with a ’thunk’

Amelia pulled her knees up tight to her chest and cried. Hard sobs wracked her form as guilt and anguish washed over her, engulfing her in emotions she’d suppressed for so long.

Arms were suddenly around her but Amelia was too lost in herself to care anymore. The arms pulled her close to their warm body and Amelia’s head fell against their chest. Distantly Amelia knew it was Matt but she couldn’t rope in her emotions, she couldn’t get a grip on herself this time. The sobs that attacked Amelia mercilessly rocked both herself and her silent brother as she cried.

Amelia cried for Mickey, she cried for the others. Amelia cried for the pain she’d caused Matt and the band. She cried for Logan, the one who understood Amelia, who had known why she’d left and had even kept her whereabouts secret, taking it all to his grave. She cried from the nightmares that haunted her night after night; tormenting her with the faces that had harmed her both emotionally and physically. She cried out of guilt, she who had escaped while they did not.

Amelia cried until exhaustion took her body and soul and all she could do was sniffle and lay weak against her brother who suddenly seemed so much stronger than she had ever been. Amelia tried to tell herself to move, to get up and leave before Matt started asking questions but her body was numb and cold against him.

“Mia,” The one word held so much pain that it brought silent tears to Amelia’s eyes. Alex hadn’t been the only one deserving of an explanation.

“Why?” She chocked, a lump forming in her throat. “Why me? Why did I get away? Why was I the one, out of all of them, able to break away and go to a place where people love and care for you so much you can hardly stand it?” Matt was silent, knowing she wasn’t looking for a response, instead he handed her a notebook. The one she’d carelessly tossed across the bus. Mickey’s roughly drawn face peering back at her innocently, the smile that always adorned her lips still present. “Why not her?” Amelia cried. “She didn’t do anything, she didn’t choose that life.” Anger welled in Amelia. “She was born into it. Her irresponsible drug addict mother brought her into it.” Amelia touched the page, wishing she could touch Mickey again. “Her mother who never knew how blessed she really was.” Matt leaned over her and flipped the book back a page. The left page had carefully drawn faces, capturing their essence perfectly. Matt was sure he could know exactly the kind of people they had been from the drawing, though he knew he never would. The opposite page had crudely drawn faces, dark angrily marks made up the outlines of faces, scares, tattoos. Amelia froze, drinking in the images she had created. Then softly, hesitatingly, Amelia touched each of the five faces in turn on the left hand page. “Bryant, Ellie, Omar, Jessica, Adam.” Tears fell from her eyes helplessly. It had not just been the faces of those who had harmed her she dreamed of but also the ones she hadn’t been able to help. Matt stared at the faces, into the eyes of those Amelia had put so much care into, and in that moment became truly scared for his sister. It went beyond worrying over her self harm and her lack of speaking. It went so much farther than that now. “Bryant was stabbed.” All traces of emotion where now gone from Amelia. “He refused to give up his earnings. Ellie fell, or was pushed, I don’t know for sure. Omar had leukemia; he didn’t have money for treatment. He wanted to be left alone; he was already there when I showed up. Jessica caught pneumonia but she refused to go to the hospital. Adam was shot for protecting the others.” Amelia’s hand hardly brushed the right hand page before she recoiled as though burned. Wordlessly she flipped the page back to Mickey. “This is Mickey,” She stated. “She’s five years old, she loves 711 slurpees even in the dead of winter. Her favorite color is purple, she loves Cinderella and Ariel but things Belle was crazy for falling in love with the Beast so she’s annoyed at her mother for deeming her middle name after Belle. She swears to find Neverland where we will all live, fairies will protect us, and no one ever dies. Her favorite shirt…” Amelia trailed off before she peered up at Matt. “Her favorite shirt is the New Found Glory one I stole from you before I left—sorry about that.”

Matt stared at her wordlessly before his eyes flickered down to the sketch once more. “Where is she now?” Amelia shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know,” She whimpered. “I don’t know where any of them are.”
Matt hugged her tightly as he read the two words beneath Mickey’s portrait.

“Disney Damsel,” He read aloud. “They’re always rescued you know.” It was silent, Amelia still broken against Matt and Matt still trying to put her back together. “I’ll help you find her.” He decided quietly.

“Promise?”

“Pinkie promise.” He held out his pinkie and Amelia took. It was the simple act of a pinkie promise that brought Amelia and Matt that much closer to who they used to be.