Rebel Red Hope

*10

     Alex wakes up a few hours later out the corner of my eye, but my gaze is focused on the flower, studying all of its color, shading, the small bits of wilting crust along some of the edges of the pedals, my mind still clinging onto the memories of the world outside the perimeter. After a bit, my eyes shift over to Alex who is looking around my room before their eyes land on my wall of drawings in front of the bed and, for a split moment, their eyes fill with the same warm fire Clancy's, Josh's, and Tyler's eyes all shown before Alex speaks quietly, 

     "Get me out," they mutter almost in the same 3-toned voice the shadow spoke to me in, causing me to snap my head around to see their face already facing me,

     "What did you say?" I ask trying to suppress the panic in my tone as something starts to leak behind my eyes. Memories start to leak out, but they stop as quickly as they start,

     "I-" Alex pauses for a moment as if to rethink what had happened, "Did I say something?" they ask, their eyebrows slightly pulling together,

     "Yeah, you did," the concern in my tone is showing for sure, "You said 'Get me out'," I repeat 

     "No, I didn't," Alex's tone riddled with defense as their eyebrows furrow even 

     "Alex," I sigh as they sit up to face me more,

     "Sometimes I say things I don't mean and do things without knowing," they explain before pausing for a moment, almost reluctant to say whatever was coming next, "I'm ill,"

     Something in me can't help but throw my head back in a small chuckle. I've heard that before more times than I seem to have memories for,

     "Ill. Is that what they call it?" I half-joke, a small chuckle escaping my lips. I know the answer, it's just odd to me that that phrase was something every Bishop seems to use for that glint of hope they snuff out.

     Alex gives a hefty sigh, one that is all too familiar to me. The sigh of that flame of hope being snuffed. My smile drops and, in an almost desperate attempt to keep that fire in their soul, I spin myself to fully face them, my elbows resting on my knees, flower extended out to them, twirling it,

     "Look at it," I challenge them in a lower tone, but they turn their head away, but not in a natural way. It's almost like someone is turning their head from the outside, so I pressure them a bit more, "Look!" my voice a bit louder, "Look at this color! This is what they've been hiding from you your entire life!" I'm yelling at this point almost like I'm yelling at myself. Something I wish someone had yelled at me before, "And you trust them? Don't you want to be out there again?" Stopping for a moment to gather myself, Alex speaks in a soft tone,

     "There's nothing for me there," they simply state, their tone timid and almost scared, "I belong here," That phrase. That is not what they wanted to say and I know it, so I push more,

     "There's everything out there!" I gesture out past the walls, "Life, friends, freedom, love, happiness, purpose," Taking a breath to allow myself to calm, I continue in a softer tone, "Don't you want that? Have you forgotten it all?"

     "It's just vast emptiness, nothing more. I'm in danger there, but I'm safe here." Alex tells me. The same sickening phrase that I used to say years ago when we learned about the Banditos in lesson when we are younger. Something sets my soul on fire in a last attempt to make them see, 

     "You're not safe here! You're dying!" I shout, and as I do, Alex explodes up from my bed, that fire in their eyes lit for a blazing second before the hopeful fire turns to a raging neon light behind their eyes,