[Songs for the chapter:
- Mayday Parade // The Memory
- Strays Don't Sleep - For Blue Skies]

It was getting bad - really, really bad.

Last night I woke up shrieking for my father, tearing at my throat and clawing at my skin, trying my absolute hardest to get my voice to him but the flames got there before I did. They devoured him, licking his skin before taking mammoth bites out of his flesh, leaving smouldering black holes where they had taken hungry mouthfuls.

But there was something far worse about that particular nightmare. Another voice was screaming too. She had a high-pitched, soul-racking scream that was heavily coated with sheer terror and even though it took me a while to locate the source of the voice, I found her.

Albeit it was too late.

An ashen mess remained of her blonde hair and her dewy, tanned skin was pocketed with gaping holes that were a mixture of oozing flesh, blood and bone. One particular hole in her cheek revealed her immaculate set of teeth, except now they were blackened from the smouldering fire that had victimised her. Retching violently, my stomach projectile vomited my dinner before I collapsed beside her, stroking the brittle hairs that crumbled into fine ash beneath my fingertips.

I hadn't realised how loud my cries were until I was being brutally shaken awake. Fingernails dug into my shoulders as they were jerked me back and forth so viciously I thought my head was going to detach itself and roll onto the floor.

"Wake up! Ashley!" Mom yelled, aggressively yanking me into a sitting position.

My eyes flung open and suddenly the vivid, fiery light was replaced with the darkness of my room. An aching throb in my chest chased away the terror whilst an overwhelming dizziness crept up on me.

"M-Mom?" I choked, failing to swallow back down the acidic bile that rapidly raced up my oesophagus.

"Sweetheart, don't you ever scare me like that again!" She whispered fiercely, pulling me into a tight hug as convulsive sobs racked through me.

The bile was in my mouth and suddenly my stomach churned harshly. Feeling disorientated, I tried to feebly push myself away from my mom's chest but her hold only tightened.

"M-mom, I'm gonna be-" I was cut off when my body jerked forward and I hacked up my dinner for the second time tonight, except this time it was in reality.

She let out a shriek and clasped her hand over her mouth before looking at me with a sympathetic expression. Wisps of blonde hair fell into her face as she shook her head sadly. As much as she was grossed out, her hands remained tangled in my curls as she stroked my hair and rubbed my shoulders whilst I whimpered into her chest.

It felt like there was a boulder lodged inside my chest and was being forced to rise up my throat. Excruciating terror emitted from each and every sob whilst I clung to her gown and clawed at her shoulders, trying my hardest to keep my lids open. I knew that if I shut them I would see my best friend's ashen blonde hair again and that gaping burn hole in her face.

After five minutes, my eyes were stinging and my throat felt like sandpaper. We just sat there in each other's arm for a couple more moments before I pulled away.

Mom lifted a hand to my cheek and forced me to face her. Blue eyes searched mine in the dim light that was pouring in from the ajar bedroom door that she had slammed open earlier.

"Was it that bad?" Her voice was hesitant as if she thought it was too soon for her to start bombarding me with questions.

Catching on what she was talking about, I briefly nodded and swiped my sleeve over my mouth when she cautiously stood up, trying not to get my puke all over the carpet.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Taking one look at the orange-brown chunks that were dripping down from her gown, I felt more bile rise up my throat but this time I had the strength to force it down. Trying to lighten the mood, I let out a humourless bark.

"I think you need a shower more than I do right now."

Instantly, I regretted opening my mouth when she gave me a stern grimace as if to say 'you're not getting out of this one, we've got a lot to talk about!'

Hanging my head low, I trudged after her whilst she grumbled under her breath how I should have run to the toilet before letting digested pasta loose onto her favourite dressing gown. When we huddled inside the bathroom, she peeled off the dressing gown and tossed it into the laundry basket and watched me splashed cold water on my face. The icy refresher was enough to chase away my flushed cheeks, red nose and puffy lips but there was nothing I could do about my bloodshot eyes - they made my stark hazel eyes look like molten honey. It was sickening and made me shudder at how panicked my father's were in my dream. Mine just looked drained and exhausted but his reflected the incoming flames.

Tearing my gaze away from my own reflection, I spun around and met Mom's sypathetic, sad eyes. Biting my lip, I couldn't push back the painful sting in my eyes and bowed my head low.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement. I pursed my lips and fumbled with my tangled curly tips, looking around the room, anywhere but at her.

"There's nothing to talk about. I had a bad dream."

She was having none of it. Blue eyes scanned my tear rimmed eyes before she strode over to me and pulled me into another crushing hug. Instantly, I melted into her embrace and felt the huge boulder return in my throat, restricting me from choking a coherent sentence. All that came out was a hoarse name.

"T-Taylor."

Mom pulled away and held me at arms length, her arms laden on my shoulders whilst a look of horror fleeted across her face.

"You dreamt of Taylor?"

Before I could manage a nod, I was crushed into her body again and this time her laboured breaths were followed by warm tears that tickled my neck when she unleashed a waterfall from her eyelids. Wrapped up in each other's arms, we comforted each other for what seemed like forever.

After my sobs slowed into small whimpers, I finally cleared my throat and placed all my weight into our embrace, feeling too weak to support myself alone.

"It's t-two years today Mommy," I sniffled into her arms.

The prospect of having to remember that exactly two years today, my best took her final agonising breath was too hard to bear.

"I know dear, I know." She choked, swiping a shaking hand over her cheeks as she pulled away.

Now that both of our eyes were equally bloodshot, we stood there for a moment trying to recompose ourselves. Her grief-stricken face mirrored mine, except I didn't think she felt as horrific as I did. My entire rib cage felt like it was crushing my lungs and forcing the air out but refusing to let any air back in. This led me to wheeze and it didn't help that my heart was hammering painfully in my chest, oozing with sorrow and grief that made the rest of limbs feel heavy and numb.

"If you don't want to go to school today, you don't have to dear."

I scanned her worn-out features and shook my head. I had to go to school today. I had to make sure Tyler didn't do anything stupid like last year. I shook my head to decline the offer and just stared past her, trying to push away the anxiety settling inside me at the prospect of Tyler losing his shit today.

Mom reached up to retrieve shampoo, conditioner and body lotion from the shelf behind her and I stood frozen for a moment before I trudged out of the bathroom and left her to shower.

By the time I collapsed back into my bed, I pulled from phone out from underneath my pillow and squinted at the clock and sighed. There was half an hour left until my alarm was signalled to go off so there was no point in popping some sleeping pills and falling asleep - not that I wanted to sleep after seeing Taylor burn alive.

Tossing my phone onto my bedside table, I stared at my ceiling and heaved another sigh.

Over the past two weeks, I had been moping around dreading this day whilst steering clear of Taylor's brother who seemed as if he was a bomb threatening to explode. His skin seemed translucent and thin against his prominent cheekbones and jawline and the dark rings under his eyes made me worry but I didn't bring them up to anyone but Blake.

After Blake had advised me to give his former best friend space, I hadn't spoken to Tyler outside class and even when we were baking we barely exchanged anything more than the usual instructions and pointless questions. I couldn't tell if he appreciated my passive silence or not because his facial features were guarded and his eyes were just blank.

Occasionally I'd catch him staring at the floor with hard eyes and a tight-lipped frown but whenever I asked him if he was okay he just shrugged his shoulders and grunted in response. It was like conversing with a zombie.

When Mom knocked on my door to tell me she was finished, I grabbed a clean towel and went to enjoy a scalding hot shower. Afterwards, I threw on a clean burgundy sweater, black jeans and searched my room until I found clean socks. Leaving my hair to air dry, I joined Mom for breakfast and was quite impressed at how alert she looked. She was attired in her usual dress shirt and pencil skirt, and her light make-up did her face justice by concealing her dark rings but other than her bloodshot eyes and puffy lips, she looked beautiful as ever.

I didn't leave any space in my mind to ponder over my own appearance, I knew I looked like I had been slapped by an incoming train or worse, like a corpse.

"Pancakes or cereal?"

Knowing that we had plenty of time to spare, I opted for the first option and took a seat at the table whilst Mom shuffled around the kitchen, rounding up the ingredients.

"Are you going to visit Taylor after school?" She asked as she pulled the frying pan our of the cupboard beside the fridge.

"Yeah, I think her parents are going to pay their respects later on in the evening so I want to be out of their hair before then."

She nodded with understanding. We both knew that Mr Miller was strong like his son but Tyler's mother had the tendency to cry over the slightest memory of her daughter and her sobs were very, very loud. At the funeral she howled like a boar that had been stabbed in the belly as if she was dying a long and very painful death. The only thing that was more excruciating to witness was Tyler's speech.

I'll never forget how he broke down, convulsively sobbing into the microphone as we all averted our gazes.

"If you want, I can come with you," Mom offered, flipping the first pancake.

She turned around to offer me an empathetic smile but I just declined her offer. There was no way I wanted to go through Round Two of our crying session. I was already feeling exhausted from earlier.

When she had made enough pancakes, she split them onto two different plates and sat in front of me. I pulled my plate closer to me and drenched then in maple syrup before freezing when I felt the weight of my mother's eyes.

"What?" I looked at her.

"Why didn't you tell me that your dreams were getting really bad again?"

I stared at my plate, observing the growing pool of syrup before stabbing the pile with my fork.

"They're not that bad Mom. It was a one off."

She sighed and lowered her fork.

"You've had dark circles under your eyes for almost a month now. Don't think I haven't heard you showering during the night and you only do that to rid yourself of a nightmare."

Sheepishly, I met her eyes and shrugged my shoulders.

"It's not as bad as it seems Mom. I just have trouble sleeping, you know? The usual stuff."

With disbelief, she eyed me carefully before concentrating on cutting her pancakes.

"I think you should book an appointment Dr Jillian."

Again, her eyes scrutinised my every move as my lips tightened into a thin smile. Forcefully, I shook my head and took another bite.

"Oh come on Ashley, why won't you see Dr Jillian. She already told you to come back as soon as the dreams begin again."

"I don't want to go. I don't need therapy Mom. I'm perfectly fine!"

The edge in my voice was audible and it thickened the tension around us as Mom pushed the idea further.

"Listen dear, therapy helped you last time. I don't understand why you're so against it."

She didn't get it. I only pretended that therapy worked because it was getting tiresome spending an hour every week cooped up with Dr Jillian, watching her come up with useless suggestions that wouldn't help me get over the accident. Neither could she convince me that it wasn't my fault. She wasn't there that day, she didn't understand. After she coaxed me to recite every detail of the accident I had the most excruciating, soul-crushing nightmares that kept me awake and sobbing for weeks on end.

Sighing heavily, I didn't think anybody understood what I had been through. They just didn't get that if I had been just that little bit braver, I could've saved my father and he would've been alive today. But I was too feeble to pull him out. He could've been at the table with us today, cracking his humorous jokes whilst he shamelessly flirted with Mom and ruffled my hair much to my dismay.

We could've been a proper family.

But I wasn't brave that day on my tenth birthday. I was weak, feeble and pathetic. Nobody seemed to understand that; not Mom or Dr Jillian. Even Taylor thought I was crazy to think that but they just didn't understand.

Pursing my lips, I felt the muscles in my face tighten when I clenched my jaw.

"I don't need therapy Mom. I can handle a few dreams. Stop worrying so much."

She opened her mouth to protest but I just scraped my chair back and gave her a half smile. Eventually, she closed her mouth and nodded, agreeing to drop the matter for the time being. Neither of us could handle an argument today, especially when my eyes kept prickling, desperate to shed new tears every time I thought about Taylor.

Chucking the remaining pancakes on my plate in the trashcan, I washed my plate and waved goodbye to my mom after quickly running upstairs to grab my bag and phone. Hoisting my bike, I slipped my earbuds into my ears and switched on my iPod, zigzagging through the streets to school, ignoring the slight guilt building up inside me.

I didn't mean to be difficult but I knew that if I told Mom everything to the very detail she would box me up and ship me off to an institution that dealt with recurring nightmares or something along those lines. Even if I kept it to vague details, she'd find a way to force me to see Dr Jillian and that wasn't an option. Despite her defeated attitude right now, I knew that by tonight she would be shoving the phone down my throat to call my therapist.

However, my dreams were not up for discussion, no matter how nice my therapist was. Talking about them always made everything worse.

Mom should be grateful I didn't wake up trembling or thrashing about like I once did on my fourteenth birthday. That night, I slept over at Taylor's house for a surprise slumber party with about ten other girls from school - including Michelle and Mona - and I woke them all up screaming and thrashing about. Mona and three other girls burst out crying at my fit but Taylor wrapped an arms around me and rocked me back and forth whilst coaxing me to remember my breathing techniques.

She always knew how to calm me down after a bad dream.

Michelle just snapped about missing out on her beauty sleep but 'forgave' me when Tyler came pounding into our room shirtless, panting and frantically asking who was screaming. His eyes were glued to Taylor and I, as if his first instinct was to check that the both of us were safe and, I'll admit, I felt honoured to be categorised with his crazy, protective mode when it came to his sister.

He crouched beside us and I felt unnerved to have two pairs of identical sea-green orbs watching me as I managed to whimper that I was okay. When Taylor kicked him out of my room, he gave me a final lingering glance that was enough to chase away every terror inside me. I felt calm and managed to get into a dreamless sleep after that. Except in the morning Michelle kept giving me the stink eye and it was either due to the fact that Tyler kept fussing over me during breakfast or because she's just a bitter cow. I prefer the latter version.

By the time I reached school, my head was pounding from a lack of sleep and as I chained my bicycle inside the bike shed, I scanned the parking lot for the familiar red vehicle and felt my shoulders slump down when I couldn't find him anywhere.

**

A sharp object dug into my ribs.

"Psst Ash!"

Again, the object poked my side.

"Ash!"

The sharp whisper wasn't enough to make me lift my head off the cool table but it was a different matter when a warm breath was directed above my ear, whispering my name.

"Ashley!"

I bolted up into a sitting position, feeling disoriented and confused. Taking in the familiar surroundings of vibrant posters on projectile motion, wave properties and electromagnets, I groaned audibly. Lifting my gaze to the front of the class, I groaned inaudibly as Mr Davies continued to drone about the polarisation of light rays. My eyes flickered around the sleeping classroom, drinking in the deflated shoulders of the guy beside me who was staring at me intently with a pen in his hand, ready to prod me again.

"What do you want Blake?" I grumbled, rubbing my heavy lids before turning my body to the side so that I could glare at him.

Weary eyes met my exhausted ones and my deep frown dwindled but I still felt exasperated that he had interrupted my dreamless nap. It wasn't often that I managed to catch a wink of sleep after a bad dream so they were always welcome, but being woken up from one was just plain infuriating. Wiping my sleeve over my mouth in case I had drooled, I blinked wearily at him as he shifted closer to me.

"You haven't said a word to me all lesson. I'm worried about you."

The soft edge to his whisper made me bite back any retort. Blake's concern was flattering but it was quite ironic considering the fact that he also had dark rings under his eyes and his hair was far more dishevelled than usual - and it definitely wasn't because of the excessive hair gel he usually used.

"I'm just tired Blake. I didn't sleep too well last night because of Taylor's...well, you know."

He nodded and absentmindedly flipped a page in his textbook, staring intently at a distance-time wave graph whilst he propped his head up on the table using his left hand.

"Me neither," He admitted, flicking through the pages faster. "I just lay in bed worrying over how bad things were for Tyler's parents last year and prayed that he'd have enough sense not to try anything again."

The reminder made my heart jolt with panic. I had been worrying over Tyler all morning since I hadn't caught a glimpse of him at all and now that Blake had voiced my fears, it seemed more real. Terror prickled every hair on my body, standing tall as goosebumps formed all over my bare arms. Shuddering, I slipped my cardigan back on and buttoned it up swiftly.

Blake must have noticed the change in my mood because he placed his right hand over mine and gave it a squeeze.

"You sure you're okay today?"

Considering the fact that this time last year I had wept in his arms after hiding out in the girls bathroom all day, I understood why he kept checking up on me. I was pretty sure his shirt was dripping with my tears after I managed to reign in the convulsive wails but he didn't mind; instead he just rocked me back and forth until I fell asleep in his arms. Then he carried me to his car to drive me home. But when I woke up we were parked outside the hospital and Blake's eyes were bloodshot.

Then he explained to me, in ragged sobs, what Tyler had done.

Right now, it was like he was waiting for me to break down any moment like a timed bomb ready to explode and self destruct and I didn't blame him. Ignoring his question, I leaned closer to him and peered into his eyes, trying to seek out any false hope when I voiced my next question. I just needed to know if he truly believed that Tyler would try to deliberately hurt himself again.

"What if he does it again?" I choked struggling to get the words off my heavy tongue. "What if he tries to...to..."

I couldn't say it. It was too painful to think about what he was capable of. My windpipe felt like it was narrowing and I was pretty sure there was a scratchy stone lodged in my throat.

"Kill himself?" Blake finished bluntly, casting his eyes downwards and staring hard at his textbook.

My eyes began to sting as I blinked several times to force my tears back but they grouped together at the inner corners, ready to break free any moment.

"Y-Yeah, that."

Spherical droplets rolled down my flushed cheeks, pushing past my glasses and racing down to the corners of my mouth. Swiping them quickly, I took in a ragged breath despite the protest my rib cage put up as it crushed my lungs together, making it harder to breath.

"I'm scared that his dad is going to call us again. I'm scared that they'll find him too late, you know? I'm scared that..." I trailed off when another set of tears ran down my cheeks. "I'm just s-scared Blake."

I watched as the muscle in his jaw ticked up and down when he clenched his jaw repeatedly. Slowly, he tore his gaze away from his textbook and glanced up at me with glassy eyes but the sorrow in them quickly morphed into concern when he took in my tears. Alarmed, Blake tried to pull me into a crushing hug but I pushed him away and pointed my chin at Mr Davies who was walking down the aisle of desks. Slipping off my glasses, I rubbed my heavy eyelids and tried to control my breathing. Counting to ten, I closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

When I had composed myself, I put my glasses back on and turned to my friend, giving him a shaky smile to reassure him that I didn't need one of his bone-crushing embraces. Those hugs were sure to do more damage than healing if he forgot once again that I was two-thirds his size, thus ending up squeezing the life out of me.

Agitated, he just observed me with great caution, scanning my face like a machine and reading every feature for traces of more tears but I was done crying...for now, at least.

"What are we going to do?" I managed to ask as he crossed his arms over his bulky chest and leaned back, still watching me attentively.

"Nothing," He exhaled heavily, leaning backwards in his chair to stretch his taut back muscles. "There's really nothing we can do."

With an incredulous expression, it took a moment for his nonchalance and very much useless suggestion to sink in. Why was he acting so calm after he broke down last year, scared shitless that he had lost his best friend forever?

Thinking back to last year's exhausting events, I could still remember just how lifeless Tyler looked in his hospital bed. It took us over thirty minutes to sweet talk the receptionist into telling us his room number and another half an hour to locate his room, which was in the private sectors.

When we staggered into the well furnished hallway of the private wards; I instantly recognised Mrs Miller's fiery red curls buried deep into her hands as she slumped down into a chair.

Tyler's father was pacing the entire length of the corridor, deaf to Mrs Miller's silent sobs as they both waited for their son to wake up. The doctors had done all they could for him and it was just a matter of time before his fate was determined. We asked his parents if we could see him and they exchanged an alarmed, surprised and anxious expression before his father reluctantly nodded. Mrs Miller shook her head, raking her eyes over us with a pained grimace. It was obvious that Tyler didn't want to see anyone since he had shut out all his friends but his father didn't see there being a problem if Tyler wasn't even conscious.

"He's in the third door on the right," Mr Miller pointed at the white door further away from us before hastily running a hand through his greying gold hai, a gesture that Tyler had seemingly inherited.

"Thanks, we won't take too long." I whispered hoarsely, dragging a numbed and very silent Blake with me as we approached Tyler's door.

The first thing I remembered thinking when I cautiously pushed the door open was that the smell of disinfectant was beyond intoxicating. It swarmed up my nostrils, making me splutter and blink several times whilst I tried to adjust to the blindingly white room.

A helpless whimper came from behind me as the grip on my hand tightened. A jolting pain shot through my crushed fingers, making me flinch and hiss with pain.

"Shit, A-Ash look at him." Blake's hot breath fanned my neck from where he was standing behind me.

I jumped at his voice and pushed the door open wider, biting my lip when my eyes settled on the unconscious blond sprawled on the bed, stirring every few moments.

Pale blue veins spidered over Tyler's taut skin and his lips were chapped and broken, bloodied from where they had split. Lifeless hair was flattened on his forehead, sporting a dull straw colour which was nothing compared to its usual golden glory. But the worst part was the amount of machines that surrounded him, filling the room with a resonating beep that prickled the hairs on my skin.

I must have dug my nails into Blake's hand quite hard because he sucked his breath in and untangled our fingers. As he pushed past me, I gave him an apologetic half smile, trying to keep my lips from quivering. I approached the bed, sinking into the plastic chair nearest to Tyler whilst Blake leaned over me and scrutinised his best friend.

"Ash..." Blake's voice sounded small, filled with enough terror to make a chill run down my spine. "I think he's waking up."

With disbelief, I scooted forward and let out a little gasp when pale lids cracked open a fraction. I could've sworn his lips pulled up in a half smile as he blinked several times.

"Taylor?" Tyler's voice husky, cracking from his obvious thirst.

Dazed sea green eyes flickered around the blindingly white room before settling on me, roaming over my entire face. Confusion flitted across his eyes, settling deep within those bottomless, beautiful eyes of his.

"Where's Taylor?" He asked, blinking at me before looking around the room again, this time acknowledging the medical equipment that surrounded us.

As if it was in slow motion, Blake and I both watched his face crumple like a piece of paper, contorting with agony when realisation slammed his hopeful eyes, killing the final shred of humanity he still had left. They rose up to the ceiling as tears streaked down the side of his face, disappearing into his hair when a choking sob racked through him.

A massive boulder lodged itself in my throat whilst my chest tightened.

"T-Tyler, please don't cry," I choked, leaning over and picking up his limp hand.

I rubbed small circles on his palm, just the way he always liked and breathed a sigh of relief when his shoulders relaxed slightly. But the tears insisted on coming down faster and faster and faster; even when I used my other hand to comfort him by catching some of them.

Suddenly Tyler's head snapped towards me as if he suddenly remembered I was still in the room. Sea-green eyes darkened, coming into focus and hardening as they drew back with horror at the proximity between us.

"Get away from me!" He hissed, shuffling away quickly and ripping his hand out of my grasp.

Alarmed by his reaction, I jerked away and stared at his wide eyes as they flickered up to the distraught guy behind me. Blake blinked at his best friend, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder, only to be shoved away as well. Green eyes flashed with rejection that made my chest contract painfully.

"Tyler, please don't do this to us." Blake's voice was small and helpless, sounding close to a whimper. "Don't push us away again."

Tyler's eyes darted around the room as he tried to lift his head off the pillow. The cardiac monitor beside him began to beep faster, coinciding with his ragged breaths as he searched his bed for something.

"What are you looking for? Here, let me help you." I reached out to him in an attempt to make him lay down again.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" He roared, finally pulling a small white remote.

Frantically, Tyler jabbed the call button repeatedly as I staggered to my feet and glanced at Blake desperately.

"Maybe we should go," I reasoned, eyeing his pained green eyes and leaned over to grab his hand.

He snatched his hand back and gave me a cold glare that sent a chill down my spine. I flinched, causing his hard eyes to soften slightly but not enough to listen to me.

"I'm not leaving him! Not like this! He needs help Ashley! He needs us!"

Suddenly, the door swung open and a red faced nurse stormed into the room, glancing at a thrashing Tyler and then at us.

"What are you doing in here? It's past visiting hours!"

I glanced around helplessly, weaving my fingers together as I replied in a nervous voice.

"His parents said we could see him."

Disinterested, bland brown eyes bored into mine.

"Well I'm afraid you're going to have to leave now." She announced in a stern voice, opening the door wider and sweeping a hand at us to exit the room.

I tugged at Blake's arm but he remained glued to the ground, staring at his best friend with a tormented expression.

"Get them out of here! Get them out of here!" Tyler wailed, over and over again, cowering away from us. "GET THEM OUT!"

His flat hair fell into his eyes, concealing the terror that they held.

"Leave now or I'm going to have to call up security." The nurse demanded, pushing a grey strand out of her face.

Suddenly, the swung wider and Tyler's parents staggered into the room, wide eyed and confused at the commotion.

"What's happening?" Mrs Miller asked in a shrill voice. "Has he woken up yet?"

Her green eyes darted to her terrified son before they returned to Blake and I. Regret flitted across them as she snapped her head up to her husband.

"I told you that this was a bad idea! Now look at what they've done!"

Taken aback by her accusation, I latched my fingers around Blake's wrist and physically dragged him with all my might but he wouldn't budge. The nurse muttered something incoherent under her breath before disappearing out of the room.

Mr Miller cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable when he turned to us.

"We're grateful for your effort to help our son..." He trailed off and spared Tyler a glance before looking back down at me. "But I don't think it's a good idea if you guys see Tyler anymore. He's in a fragile state right now. Maybe all he needs is his family right now."

I met Mr Miller's warm, hazel eyes and we both knew that he was wrong. Tyler needed his friends more than ever. My eyes stung so much that I had to blink several times, but despite the agony I was in, I managed to nod.

"Oh," I choked in the smallest voice I could muster. "O-Okay."

When the nurse returned there was a muscular giant behind her, talking into a walkie-talkie as he scanned the scene before him. She pointed at Blake, who was currently screaming back at Tyler and fighting of Mrs Miller, before she whispered to the security guard.

In one swift motion, the burly giant entered the room, flipped my friend around, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hauled him out of the room.

"NO! LET GO OF ME! HE NEEDS ME!" Black hair lashed everywhere as he tried to wriggle out of the burly man's hold.

Racing after them, I tried to coax the security guard to let my friend go but he literally dumped Blake outside, threatening to call the cops if we tried to enter the hospital again. That was the moment that all the fire died from Blake's eyes as we sat on the kerb, panting heavily with a choking silence between us.

When glassy green eyes met mine, a dam broke loose. His face crumpled up, making me feel incredibly helpless that there was nothing I could do to ease his pain.

"I...just...w-want...my...b-best friend...back." He choked between each convulsive sob, burying his face into his hands.

"Shhh shhh," I whimpered in an attempt to silence him.

Wrapping my arms around his shoulder, I pushed his head into my lap and ran my fingers through his hair when my own tears broke loose. That was the last time I saw my friend cry so openly and since then he has always flinched at any reference to his friendship with Tyler.

As Mr Davies walked past our desk, Blake and I lapsed into a silence, pretending to take notes until our teacher was out of earshot.

"Surely there's something you can do. Anything?" I whispered with great exasperation but instead he just eyed me with disbelief as if I hadn't learnt anything from last year.

"Me?" He spluttered, looking at me as if I had grown a second head.

Feeling the urge to smack his forehead, I exclaimed, "Yes! You are his best friend Blake."

His thin lips disappeared when he pursed them and shook his head, black hair falling into his eyes.

"Was." He corrected me as if I had just made the greatest error of all time.

"What's the difference! You know him better than anyone else!" I hissed, attracting the beady eyes of our teacher. Feeling the burn of his scorching gaze, I sunk lower into my seat until he glanced away and carried on with his tedious lecture.

When Blake was certain that Mr Davies was no longer glaring at us, he flicked his impatient eyes at me and sighed heavily.

"How many times do I have to explain this to you? I don't know Tyler better than anyone else, not any more. I don't know the guy he's become."

This time I did smack him on his forehead when he used such a slow and steady voice, explaining what he thought was 'the obvious' to me like I was an inattentive five year old.

"Ashley!" He hissed, rubbing the spot on his forehead whilst shooting me a deep scowl.

"Stop acting like I'm stupid! I know that you guys don't talk anymore, but the least you can do is try." Frowning, I cocked my head to the left and observed him. "Tyler has treated me like shit on his shoe ever since last year but even I care about his life. He's Taylor's freaking twin! Don't you care about him any more?"

The question hit hard as he clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. Instantly, I felt a little guilty for prodding at the subject of the failure of their friendship but now wasn't the time for Blake to get pissed off at me. Right now, Tyler needed him and all Blake was doing was nothing.

"Jesus Ashley, of course I care! He was my best friend from first grade!" His green eyes flashed. "I'll always look out for him even if he doesn't want me to, but right now there's nothing I can do except mourn for his sister and pay her the respect she deserves after school with Mona."

Groaning loudly, I bit back a scream and ran a hand over my face.

Why was Blake being so difficult? Didn't he understand the enormity of the situation? Tyler's life was on the line here!

The last promise I ever made to Taylor before she died was that I would look out for her brother and keep him alive. She knew that I couldn't emotionally cope with being around him at the time, especially after he broke my heart but she begged me to try my absolute hardest because we both knew that outside his hard exterior, Tyler was extremely vulnerable and broken.

When tears blurred my vision, Blake's green eyes softened and his frown dissolved into a tight-lipped smile. Taking my hand, he rubbed a thumb over my knuckles to give me some reassurance but it wasn't enough. I just wanted him to do something - anything - to make sure that Tyler stayed safe today. Was that such a hard request?

"Look here Ash, I'm not doing this to upset you but my friendship with Tyler ended a year ago when he cut me off. If Tyler needs my help, he'll ask for it. But no matter how many times I offer, he won't accept it. Trust me, I spent all sophomore bugging him to talk to me. The guy is freaking stubborn."

A humourless chuckle left his lips as he gave me a sad smile.

"But you're the only person who still cares about him. His parents are too busy mourning over Taylor today," I sighed heavily.

As if I had hit a switch inside him, the sadness in Blake's pale green eyes was replaced with hope and the certainty of the look he gave me made the anxiety within me lessen slightly. Surprise lit his features for a fleeting moment before a small smile slipped onto his lips. I narrowed my eyes as the smile widened slowly.

"That's where you're wrong. Tyler doesn't have just me Ashley."

His response made me scowl deeply and when he began to chuckle quietly to himself I felt the sudden urge to throttle him as my fingers twitched with fury.

"What do you mean? Why are you laughing all of a sudden?"

As he shook his head slowly, I waited for his chuckles to die down before crossing my arms over my chest. Confused by his sudden outburst, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you always the last one to figure it out?" He whispered, still shaking his head with disbelief.

"Figure what out?" I snapped, feeling irritated with his sudden mood change.

"Ashley, Tyler doesn't need my help when he has you. You're the only person that can get through to him now."

Taken aback by the amount of sincerity in his voice, I just blinked up at the warmth radiating from his eyes. Either I was going crazy or there was a knowing smile playing on his lips. If was expecting me to return anything less than a scowl that could turn milk sour, he had another thing coming.

Sending him a scathing glower in response, I turned away from him and frowned so deeply that the muscles around my lips ached but listening to Mr Davies was far better than spending the remainder of the lesson trying to figure out what Blake was insinuating.

But that's what I did anyway.