Speechless

Chapter four

I just explained my dream to Jason, "Are you alright?" He asks me with that concerned but sympathetic smile. I nod my head yes and rest my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me, one around my back so his palm reaches up to the bottom of my neck and the other around my lower back by my waist. I can't help but wrap my arms around his neck and cry into his shoulder. He buries his chin into where my shoulder and neck meet and we just sit there for a while.

"Thank you," I say to him.

"For what?" He asks me. His speech is muffled because he doesn't dare remove his chin from my shoulder. And I don't dare either.

"For being there. You're a great friend, Jason. Really, you are," I say. He then pulls away and looks me in the eyes with what I sense is a sad look. "Why are you angry?" I ask him.

"Angry?" He repeats.

"I don't believe in sadness. When you're sad, something went wrong. When something went wrong you get mad. Being sad or saying you're sad is a nicer way of being angry. So, why are you angry?" I ask again.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," he assures me. I don't believe him but I go with it. "The sun's about to come up, we should get some rest before it does," he tells me.

"Alright," I say as I slump back over and rest on my side, not facing Jason.

"You know what I'm going to call you?" He says before slumping back over to sleep as well.

"What's that?" I ask, intrigued. Some people called me Abby or Bre, but that was it. My parents did call me Re Re when I was little, though. Before they ended it for themselves. Jason pauses before he tells me exactly what I don't want to hear,

"Beautiful. Because you are, Aubrey. No matter how much you deny it," he tells me. I have to close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from crying. Now, whenever I see Jason, I'll see a little piece of Jim. That might get me before The Gone.

"I can't get you to call me any different, can I?" I ask with a chuckle to keep from sobbing.

"Nope," he replies.

"Well then goodnight, Jason," I say as I drift off to sleep.

"Goodnight, Beautiful," he tells me. That's the last thing I hear before morning.

When I wake I notice it's not sunrise, it's much past that. By the looks of the sun's position, I would guess it's about nine in the morning. "Jason," I start as I roll over to face him. But I see an empty space next to me where I expected Jason to lie, asleep. I sit up, "Jason?" I say. Then I see him right outside the den. I walk outside and see him sitting by the edge of the cave with his knees tucked up by his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees to secure them there. "Hi," I say to get Jason's attention. He looks up at me,

"Oh, hello beautiful. How'd you sleep?" Asks Jason. I blush, again embarrassed. But I never know why, why am I so embarrassed around him every time he complements me? Why don't I compliment him back?

"Fine," I reply. "How about you?" I ask.

"Pretty well. I didn't want to wake you after your nightmare last night, you deserved a goodnights rest," he tells me.

"Thank you," I say in return. I go and sit next to him and pull my knees to my chest just like he has, and we sit in silence for a little while. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I ask him. He nods. "The sun and the clouds seem to be in the perfect position. Today may be the last beautiful day we see," I say.

"I remember what you told me. What was in your dream. What Jim said," he says to me.

"Alright," I start.

"I remember what Jim said in your dream, about the moon. Everything isn't always what it seems," he starts, not looking at me, but at the beautiful sky and grass right in front of us.

"So," I add, urging him to go on.

"This day, you would never suspect that the dead have taken over this world. It seems so perfect, but it's far from that, now. This isn't what it seems, it looks perfect out here, but maybe with less than fifteen minutes if walking you would see the dead walking and how this world has tricked us. Tricked us into thinking this world is okay once again, but it's not," he says.

"Or maybe it's giving us hope," I start. "The world, showing some life is still going on. Don't let go of hope, Jason, there's almost nothing to hold onto after you've let go of hope,"

"What's left?" He asks, looking over at me. But I don't look at him, I look at the beautiful scenery.

"Few things, Jason. Mostly one thing though. That thing would be love. We need hope and love because it's the only things left," I say, feeling the tears creep from behind my eyes where I can't see them coming, but I feel them.

"But you don't love me, do you?" He asks. I look up at the clouds, seeing a few birds fly past us.

"I don't know," I say. I now look at him, he's staring right at me. Right into me. I feel like he's able to read my thoughts, capture my soul. "I mean, we went to the same school and we are both fifteen. We were friends before this, but little did we know about each other. Love is something stronger, love takes time, and promise," I managed to barely choke that out. I look right into his gleaming green eyes, "and I can't promise," I start, stuttering. "I can't promise you I will always be there. One second, I may be there next to your side. The next second, I could be gone. I could be one of The Gone. I can't do that to you, Jason," I explain. I feel the tears coming, and I must satisfy them. I let a single tear roll down my cheek, as if a silent raindrop streaming down the glass of a window. One tear, that's all I give myself. That's all I need.

"Oh, Aubrey," Jason starts. Then he looks back up at the sky, "little do you know of my feeling for you, no matter how much you don't want them to be there, my feeling are there. You can't protect me from them, I just want you to know," he says.

"But I don't know where my feelings are. I don't even know what they are," I explain, looking at the ground. Our heads are in opposite directions, and we just enjoy it. The scenery. Either the tricks the world is playing or the hope the world is giving. I'm not sure which is so. "We should start hunting," I say as I get up. He does the same and off we went, like nothing happened.

Like he didn't just tell me he loved me.