Sunflowers (Not Edited)

Chapter One

"Jon's dead."

"Who? Walker?"

"Yeah. Him."

Ryan, his feet crossed with the right over the left, hummed after the statement was made. He said things as they were; honest and to the point, something Brendon particularly liked about him.

"That's bad." Was all Brendon could think to say. As usual, he was at a loss for words. He enjoyed Walker's company as he did the other's whose lives were lost, but he couldn't really say much to express that.

The ticking of the clock filled the silence between them. The silence, which was usually filled by the voices of more than two. Brendon couldn't exactly recall the proper amount, but knew for certain there had been more than them. The ticks agreed, as they were followed by a loud chime. It always chimed when Brendon was right about things.

"What time do you suppose it is?" Brendon asked, kicking his legs up and down. The mattress squeaked from the constant movement, protesting against his kicking. He apologized quietly so Ryan wouldn't hear.

"Nine, I think."

"In the afternoon?"

"It's always afternoon here." Ryan pointed out, gesturing towards the clock with a shoulder. Brendon followed the gesture with his eyes, paying close attention to the short hand which pointed to the number nine. It was upside-down; Brendon found it odd how time went upside-down in the room.

"Do you think ten will come?"

Ryan sat still; his eyes too, drawn to the large clock. He had a serious expression on his face, his eyes squinted slightly as if he were trying to hide whatever feelings that threatened to show.

Ryan's eyes always revealed his inner thoughts, which was why he tried to keep them hidden when thinking. Normally, he'd allow his hair to fall into his face but now, after cutting it to a shorter length, he couldn't do much to hide them.

"No." He said after a long period of listening and watching the ticking clock. "Not yet." Brendon stopped kicking his feet and instead tucked them beneath him, tilting his head in that way he always seemed to do when he was paying close attention.

"I don't think it ever will. At least, not anytime soon."

Brendon didn't believe that, but figured Ryan was right; his words were followed by a chime. Ryan's chimes were different than Brendon's. His chimes were loud, confident, sure of themselves. Brendon's, meanwhile, were slightly muted and sounded like they were underwater.

"Should we go? The clock sounds impatient." Brendon asked, realizing that the clock was, indeed, impatient. The ticks were being quite obnoxious; overlapping and drowning out the sound of his voice.

Ryan glanced at the window, humming. The song in his head, Brendon figured, was a nice one. All nice songs settled the dying flowers in the vases. Brendon couldn't keep his eyes off the sunflowers that leaned towards Ryan; as if his voice was the sun they needed all along.

He quit his humming the moment a petal touched his shoulder, staring sorrowfully at the withering plants. "Why'd you stop? They like you." Ryan sighed and lent a hand out to stroke the petal. It fell from the flower and slowly landed in a heap of dust on the floor. "If I keep humming, then they'll keep growing. Eventually I'll have to stop humming and they'll have to die over again. It's better to save all that time and let them go now."

Brendon disagreed. He thought Ryan should hum forever if it kept the flowers happy. He also thought they should stay in the room, but the clock seemed to hate that idea. Its ticking and constant chiming gave off angry messages.