SAM

Scene #5

"Who's that lady?" Mr Osbourne questions Alex as he flips through the photographs of Sam from the day before. He spoke with a throaty voice that was unfamiliar to Alex's ears, it seemed that his medical condition was worsening. Or it was only Alex and his way of darkening everything he sees these days.

"Just a beautiful lady that was sitting there, Sir." Alex replied. As much as he wanted to tell him about Sam, he felt that he would be revealing his little source of light in the dark room he'd locked himself in. He preferred to stay silent.

"Does she know you took that picture of her?" He asked Alex as he admired the scenery, eyes scanning each and every detail

"No, I don't think so."

"Then keep this one, it's truly beautiful but we can't display it in the gallery without her permission." Mr. Osbourne sorrowfully handed it to Alex. Alex tried not to smile, he really wanted to keep that photograph.

"Okay, I'll do th-"

Mr. Osbourne cut his reply and interrupted with his criticism. "The pictures are all so good yet so dark. What happened to you, Alex?"

Alex took a deep breath. He had already felt his heartbeats racing, in a bad way. Every single time he thought of her, the only thing he'd want is to disappear from the whole world, or cut out his heart and live without feelings.

"Angela and I broke up, this time forever." His voice was thick with pain.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mr Osbourne started, giving Alex a few pats on the shoulder. "But people come and go, that's how life works. This isn't the old strong Alex, you have to recover."

"It's hard, I still feel her fingers ghosting over my hands and it gets so hard to tell myself that she's never going to come back." His voice broke by the end. Don't cry. Please don't cry. Alex told himself.

"It takes time boy. You know, you'll always be that little impatient kid that chased me with his photographs of flowers all around the neighborhood. Look where you are now, you're great. Don't let that downfall drag you down." True as his words were, Alex couldn't think of letting this misery go. He wanted to dive deep into these feelings and cry until his eyes are completely dry. He honestly didn't think the world might open its arms for him again.

He had to change the subject. "Anyway, which photos do you think are the best?"

"Apart from the fact that they're not as cheery as usual, they're really deep and I love them. Would you mind if I put them all up? I'll pay you extra money."

"That would be a great honor." Alex whispered as he watched Mr. Osbourne spread out the photographs on his office desk and group them. "Can I ask about something though?"

"Sure."

"I know you knew the poet & his wife very well, is she still alive?"

Mr. Osbourne raised his head to look at Alex and froze, knitted eyebrows-almost angry ones-dominating his features. "I don't know, what for?"

"I n-need to talk to her about him." Alex said in a low voice, dressed in fear.

"What are you trying to reach?" Mr. Osbourne asked, taking off his glasses. Whenever he took off his glasses, it meant that he was interested.

"What if the folders didn't exist? After deep thinking with a colleague of mine we both just came to the conclusion that they almost don't exist." Alex talked, watching Mr. Osbourne search through the drawers of his desk. He held a photograph and placed it in front of Alex.

"Mrs Kelly McMillan, she was a very pretty lady." It was true, Alex admired her features in the photograph. "We worked on the same floor in the factory so I knew her pretty well, I had her address written in the back." He said, flipping the image and pointing at said address to Alex.

"Do you think I'm going to end up looking like an idiot though? Aren't you mad at me?"

"I adore your potential Alex, I can't be mad at you. Do you think any discovered was supported instantly? Never. They all get mocked and were claimed to being insane, until they proved people wrong."

"So should I-"

Mr. Osbourne had a hobby called interrupting people which would always bothering Alex.

"Here," He handed Alex a wrapped paper. When he opened it, it showed a map, titled The Factories. "I found this one day between the old equipment in the East factory, fifteen years ago, even before the poet showed up. It has a location for Downhill but it's, unfortunately, not clear at all."

"Well, Thank you so much. I promise I won't let you down." Alex said as he wrapped the map into it's original form and held onto it tightly, along with the photograph of Sam and the poet's wife. He made sure Sam's photograph was on top though.

"So...You like her?" Mr. Osbourne asked. Alex, on the other hand, laughed it off, shaking his head.

But, did he like Sam?