Sunflowers (Not Edited)

Chapter Seven

Dallon glanced up from his book, then looked up again after seeing the object in Ryan's hands. The expression on his face wasn't easy to read, but Brendon could tell that he was obviously surprised. He said nothing but bent a page in his book and placed it on his lap.

"We stole a guitar." Brendon announced. His words were followed by a loud chime. It startled Dallon as it normally did and the man sent the clock a dirty look. He and the clock didn't get along well, though the clock couldn't do much about it since it was the room that allowed Dallon in.

"Where?"

"In a house. The paintings stared at me funny." Brendon said, thinking back to the broken down house and the squeaky door. Dallon stared at Ryan questionably, probably hoping for a more specific answer. "They were crooked, too."

"Right."

Ryan smiled and opened the guitar case, not caring much about the bed which opposed to having something placed on it. "Woah." "Yeah 'whoah.' Isn't it beautiful?" Brendon nodded his head, transfixed on the instrument.

"I'm going to play it. Move the flowers."

"The what?"

"The sunflowers."

"Uh, why?"

"They like music." Brendon said to save Ryan's breath. He was hoping if Ryan played the guitar then he'd sing too.

"Um, okay, but, they don't like me."

"They like me." Brendon piped up.

There was a short period of silence where he felt the gaze of both men land on him. "What?"

"Aren't you going to move them?"

"No."

Dallon opened his mouth, probably to object, then glanced at the guitar in a longing way. "Fine. I'll do it." Brendon shrugged and swung his feet back and forth while the man fought with the sunflowers.

"What song are you going to play?" Brendon asked. He didn't know much music himself; Ryan and the others refused to let him listen to whatever played over the radio and even his TV wouldn't let him watch music channels. Most of what Brendon heard was street music; mainly the marching band since that was all that played or the occasional humming of Ryan.

"Something I wrote myself."

"I didn't know you could write music. I also didn't know sunflowers could bite," Dallon muttered the second part, wiping a few bloody scratches on his pants. "They don't bite. They nibble." "Yeah, whatever. Are you going to play that or did I almost get strangled by plants for nothing?"

Instead of answering, Ryan strummed the guitar, humming and picking at each string individually. He didn't stop until he was satisfied with how they sounded.

He opened his mouth to say something, then froze up completely. At first Brendon thought he was too scared to sing in front of them, then, when he followed Ryan's gaze, he knew exactly what had stopped him.

The large clock; golden and much bigger than him, had changed its time. Not a small change, like the one earlier where the second hand had moved. No, this time an entire hour had passed without their knowing.

Brendon had to turn towards Ryan, then Dallon, to see if what he saw was actually real. The look of despair on Ryan's face and confusion on Dallon's was enough to assure him that this was indeed real.

"It's ten." Ryan choked out; his voice sounded hoarse. Dallon; who had been in the room before them, mumbled something about time and not knowing it had changed. He sounded more confused than Brendon felt.