| LUCID |

Chapter | Fifteen

Alex

Tuesday evening

I heard Ryan rummaging around in the living room. All of his noise woke me from my nap. I opened my eyes to be met with complete darkness. I must have slept for hours. I stepped out of bed instantly feeling a chill, only having on bed shorts and a big T-shirt. I grabbed my phone and checked the time, it read 9:58 pm. Why is he being so loud at almost 10 o'clock on a school night? I walked downstairs slowly peeking at him. There were pictures scattered all over the floor and Ryan was studying one in his hand and began laughing to himself.

"What are you doing?" I asked coming down the last step. 

"Oh, nothing, just looking at childhood pictures," Ryan responded, holding one up of him shoveling cake in his mouth at 3 years old. I giggled at the picture and took a seat next to him to dive into nostalgia.  

-

We've been sitting here for almost an hour laughing at each other's stupidity at a young age. "Oh my god look at this one of you with his finger up your nose!" I began laughing loudly and showing it to Ryan. Ryan snatched it from my hand and his face turned red with embarrassment. 

"That one is going in the trash." He responded with a head shake. 

I looked at a bag of pictures no one has opened yet. I picked it up and started going through it while Ryan was focused on something else. It was a bag full of us and my mom. I instantly felt my chest tighten. I went through them until around the 7th picture and saw a picture of a man holding me when I was firstborn. I didn't know who he was, but familiarity rushed through me.

I wanted to stick the picture in my pocket, in case Mom comes home anytime soon so that I could ask her about it. Then I thought about it, Mom. Was she ever going to come home? I looked at Ryan at the same time he looked at me and his eyes went wide.

"Ryan, why did she leave?" I asked with pain in my voice. She left about a year ago, a day before my birthday. Ryan never talks about it. He always changes the subject when she comes up. I've respected the silence out of sympathy for his pain, but I can't keep wondering. 

"Can we not talk about this?" He said letting out a breath and taking the pictures out of my hand.

"No. I'm sick of you dodging it. Tell me, please." I pleaded, "You have to know why Ry, I know you do." I continued looking at him. He ran his hand down his face in a frustrated manner before standing abruptly. 

"No, I don't, just drop it!" He raised his voice at me. 

"Why can't you just tell me!" I yelled back at him. My voice was strained; exhausted. 

"Because when we talked, she told me not to Alex!" He yelled, throwing the pictures back on the table. Once he realized what he omitted, his face softened, realizing he screwed up.

"Wait, you- you talked to her?" I asked, shifting my head to the side. I am so confused. The amount of guilt on his face is telling me everything. 

"Yeah, I did." He responded hesitantly, rubbing his head. 

"When Ryan?" I asked, clenching my jaw. 

"A few times after she left." He spoke quietly.

"A few times!" I yelled back at him in shock. "Why wouldn't you tell me? Why wouldn't you at least tell me she was alright?" I questioned, pushing my hair out of my face. He stood there in silence, staring at the floor.  "Where is she?" I asked impatiently after his lack of response.