c a l u m:

Two Months Later

I should've died.

That's what everyone around me kept saying. The doctors, my mom, my sister, my friends. If the impact didn't kill me, it was the injuries from the accident that should've. But alas, I was here, still on this Earth. I was breathing, peeing normally, and of course, enjoying ice cold beer running down my throat. It sucks that the other dude had to die, but if he hadn't, I wouldn't be sitting here with his heart in my body. The thought disgusted me so I chose not to think about the gory details too much.

"I'm bored," Michael declared, chucking his can of beer to the center of us. Michael, our other friend Ashton, and I all sat around on old couches inside his garage.

Michael, Ashton, and I had known each other for years, but I didn't start spending time with them till earlier this year. They were crazy guys who knew how to have fun, but best of all, they were down for anything. Balls to the wall, Michael and Ashton were rarely afraid of things. They often took risks and as long as they could runaway from whatever crime they could get caught for, they did.

"Down for some artwork?" Ashton asked, looking over to the box of spray paint.

"I am," I stated. "Where? Alleyway? Someone's garage?"

"Hmmm..." Ashton thought. He took a long swig of his beer before crushing the can and throwing it to the same area where Michael's was laying.

"What about the Youth Outreach building?" Michael suggested.

Ashton's eyes lit up, "brilliant! I like it. It's the place where lame counselors try to cleanse lost souls and rebel children, and what better way to show them that rebellion will always be there."

"Isn't your little sister in that program?" I asked. Ashton's mom had a ridiculous work schedule and would often depend on him to drive his younger siblings around.

"Lauren is thirteen and doesn't need a program like that. She's just going through simple teenaged angst. My mom's wasting her money by sending my sister there," Ashton explained. "I'll drive, let's do it."

"Let's do it," I repeated with a smirk. I grabbed my black backpack and began stuffing the spray paint into the large opening.

Ashton twirled his keys around his finger as Michael and I followed him to his car. We slipped inside, blasting music the moment the car turned on. It was a nice evening in Sydney and while this singlet was perfect for the weather, I pulled on a hood to keep myself camouflaged in the dark night. When we arrived at the outreach building, I took a look at the simplistic design. It was a very sleek two-story building, with large windows, off white paint, and dark red accent colors. All the windows were dark- no light beamed through the glass, and I was convinced that the building stood empty.

"How are we gonna get in?" Michael asked.

"Around the back," Ashton answered immediately. It seemed like he devised a plan on the drive over, "I've seen my sister walk in and out of there before. Plus it isn't an updated door... the lock might be easier to pick."

"They don't have security systems in this building do they?" I asked. Even if a single door wasn't updated to fit the sleek design, the owners could've invested in some fancy alarms.

"Naw. The people who own this place are like strong believers in seeing the good in all people, or some bull crap like that," Ashton explained. "Besides, who the hell would break into an outreach center. It's not like they have expensive equipment. They counsel with their emotions, not video games."

I followed Ashton and Michael to the back of the building where a grey door at the end of a ramp stood. On his knees, Ashton pulled out a Swiss army knife from his pocket, "hey Michael, shine your phone this way."

With the aid of the phone's bright glow, Ashton opened up the gadget. Going through the tools in the army knife, Ashton finally lifted the sewing eye from in-between the other tiny devices. He stuck the thin, pointed end into the key hole and began to twist the makeshift key. I stood at the edge of the ramp, my hands grasping the railing. I leaned over, keeping a lookout for a sudden appearance by authorities. After a few tries, Ashton's eyes lit up. He turned his head to face Michael and I and gave us both a smirk.

"We're in," Ashton declared, opening the door wide. I smiled back at him and to Michael, looking into the darkened building before us.

The three of us ran inside, down the hall where doors to different rooms were. All I could hear were the sounds of our shoes squeaking against wooden floors, and my heartbeat from the amount of adrenaline that was pulsating throughout my veins. This type of rush was what I wanted to live for. There was really nothing for me here. I was all alone, and although I valued the friendship I had with Michael and Ashton, at the end of the day there was still pieces of me missing and nothing filled the cracks better than states of extreme excitement.

The hall filtered into a large opening where the main lobby was, and the floor to ceiling windows gave us enough light from the moon's silver glow. On the opposite side of the windows was a large wall made of the same wooden panels found on the floor. But what made this wall special, were the golden fixtures that hung on it- golden letters that formed words, that strung together to make some inspiring quote.

Let your faith be bigger than your fear.

I laughed out loud. Those words were meaningless, and it was almost sad to think that people come in here reading the very same words in hopes that it will inspire them to thrive for more. The truth, in my eyes, was simple: surviving life on the mere notion of faith was bull. Faith alone could not be trusted, and like people, faith will let you down.

//

g w e n:

Life in Australia without Ryan or my friends from Church was starting to become easier. Each day becomes a little better and with the help of my host family and the others at the outreach center, I was able to cope with Ryan's unfortunate passing. The decision to stay in Sydney was an easy one for me, but the decision to let me stay, was a hard one for my parents. It took convincing, but in the end they understood that this was what I needed- they had faith in me and any decision I would ultimately make.

Even if those decisions were made just on gut, and may not always be the smartest.

I sat on a large, grey office chair in one of the rooms on the second floor of the outreach center. It was already close to 11PM and I was still waiting for my ride to arrive. Luke Hemmings had become my chauffeur while in Sydney, and I was blessed that he didn't mind too much. Luke and his parents had become my host family since I arrived in Sydney 3 months ago, and even after the accident, they had become more accommodating. This was why I did not mind when Luke had called to inform me that he was still in the next city over and was running late- by almost 3 hours, but with the extra time alone, I had lots of time to think, listen to music, and...

BANG

...get the heebie jeebies scared out of me.

I shut off the music playing from my phone and slowly stood out of the chair. I walked out the open office door and stood in the center of the hall. I looked to my left and to my right, listening quietly for any other odd noises.

CRASH

I've seen this happen in scary movies all the time. The lone girl investigates the creepy noises, walks into an even creepier room, and screams bloody murder before getting her head chopped off by some crazed killer. I should've learned from all those films, but instead the curiosity took over, and I walked down the spine-tingling, eerie corridor.

The short hallway of offices turned into a large catwalk next to the floor-length windows. I dropped to my knees and quietly crawled out of the hall, making sure to stay hidden in the darkness. I peered through the wooden railings, only to find three mysterious figures spray painting the opposing wall in the main lobby.

Their cans of paint crashed onto the floor, as they switched colors and decorated around the program's motto. My fear subsided and hurt came over me in replace. That quote meant a lot to me, and meant a lot to everyone else who depended on the outreach center for help. Vandalizing the quote was like vandalizing our inner faith to survive, and I had to stop them.

Quickly and quietly, I ran back into the office, grabbing a few heavy books. I crouched back into the same dark area I was in. I held my breath, clutching one of the books in my hand. With my eyes closed, I threw the book over the catwalk and it landed on the floor below with a very loud thud.

"What the hell was that?"

That definitely caught their attention, but it wasn't enough.

"It's nothing. Probably the building settling,"

They continued to spray paint the wall. I grabbed another book from the small pile next to my feet. This time I didn't close my eyes and with deliberate aim, I threw the book closer to the hoodlums. Their heads snapped back.

"Come on Ash, let's go!"

At that same moment, a pair of bright headlights shined through the glass, creating a blinding spotlight that casted against the three delinquents and their unwelcome artwork.

"Seriously, we're leaving!"

All three hooded figures rapidly ran out the lobby and down the side hall. I heard a loud thud of the heavy back door, and I knew they were no longer in the building. I smiled in accomplishment as my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Luke, letting me know he was parked outside.

After retrieving my things, I turned out the lights and made my way through the catwalk. As I walked down the curved staircase, I gazed at the graffitied wall and my heart sank. I examined the wall and the area around it where opened spray cans lay in a messy heap. I stepped away from the delinquent art project, only to have my foot hit something. I looked down, a black wallet lying open, and I picked it up. Using the light on my phone, I shined it against the photo ID in the plastic sleeve. A tanned, dark haired boy smiled happily from the photograph. It was odd to me because the boy on the ID did not look like some kind of criminal, but a boy brimming with life.

As I closed the wallet, I read the name that appeared on the ID: Calum Hood.