Gone

He couldn't scream. He couldn't shout. He couldn't use his voice at all. The sight of what he had seen had done that to him. Oh sure, he was physically able to speak. But psychologically, Brendon Boyd Urie was damaged.

Everybody tried what they could.

Pete tried yelling at him to pull himself together.

Spencer tried gentle persuasion.

Ryan and Jon, his old band mates, thought that forcing him to talk about it would make Brendon snap out of it.

None of it worked, of course.

3 months later, he was still carrying a notebook and a few pens around with him. Spencer had moved in and set up two single beds in Brendon's room as a precaution when Brendon had the nightmares.

The nightmares. They were the same every time. Brendon would be walking along, singing to himself as he loved to. Music was his life.

He'd shiver and then out of the corner of his eye, see it. This was when the tears started. Brendon would wake up, sobbing with no sound. He'd also be kicking his legs around and thrashing about, waking Spencer up in the process.

That morning was the same as the rest. Brendon woke up from the nightmare, Spencer calmed him and then he went to have breakfast. After he finished, he tapped the table to get Spencer's attention.

I feel like going for a walk. I'll be back in a bit. he wrote.

"Oh, I'll ready in a few, Bren."

Brendon shook his head.

It's alright, you finish your breakfast. I...feel like being alone. he scribbled. Spencer nodded.

"Text me if you need anything, OK?"

Brendon waved on his way out.

Once he was outside, he didn't know where he was going. He wandered round the city aimlessly. He looked at his phone. It had been half an hour since he had left and a good time to be getting back if he didn't want Spencer to be worried.

Brendon was half of the way home when dejavu crept over him. This place looked so familiar...

"Snap out of it, Brendon!" he thought to himself.

His breathing quickened as he made his way up the road. He stopped to compose himself when he saw it.

The alleyway looked different without all the blood. He immediately started walking towards it. He noticed that the big dumpster had been removed aswell. Brendon gasped as the memory of his discovery overpowered him.

Flashback

He was walking home from a date. The food was OK, but the girl was sub-standard. Brendon hummed any old tune that came into his head. He knew that it wasn't really safe to be wandering around any city at night, but he didn't think that anything would happen to him.

He shivered as the cold weather took its toll. As he began walking again, he could have sworn he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He walked back to the alleyway and scrunched up his nose. The smell was horrendous.

The first thing he noticed was the pools of blood around the dumpster. It was enough to send alarm bells ringing in his head, but curiosity made him edge nearer.

The smell seemed to be coming from the dumpster. He opened it gingerly and saw the mutilated body. He opened his mouth to shout.

Nothing happened.

End Flashback

"Snap out of it, Brendon."

At first, he didn't recognise the voice and looked around for the source.

"That was me."

Brendan clutched his throat. His voice was weak from the lack of use but it was there. He felt like laughing. A small giggle erupted. He grabbed his phone and called Spencer.

"Hello? Brendon?"

"Spencer."

"Holy flying mackerel! Brendon, is that you?" Spencer asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." he replied, smiling like an idiot.

"How did you-"

"I-I went to the place, by accident."

Spencer's tone changed to that of worry.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine. I'm on way back."

"OK, I need to call everybody anyway! I can't believe your voice is back!"

"It's not just my voice that's back. I'm back."