"C’mon, Brandon. Finals are tomorrow," she coaxed as she pushed gently at his face that was nuzzled tightly against her long neck.

"Can’t we just take a break? I’m getting burned out already!"

"Well, you’ve only got an hour before you need to leave. Remember what your parents said about the next time you break your curfew?"

"Yeah. But I can talk to them. Promise," he signified by giving a Boy Scout salute with a solemnly stern face.

"No," she insisted, "I don’t want them to hate me so close to graduation. Do you?"

"They won’t hate you. You’re so concerned. That’s what I love the most about you," he chided, batting his eyes.

"Anyway, we do need to study, so open your calculus book."

"Okay," he hesitated and tried to kiss her, but when she pulled away, he reached across the table and brought his math book to him, pushing his English book aside.

"Alright, so look at page sixty-four," she was beginning to sound like his teacher and he hated it when she did that.

"There," frustrated, he flipped his text open and stared blankly at the page.

"Let’s see who can figure out.. number twelve first."

After several moments of silence, he gazed at her and watched her scribbling with a pencil as her face wrinkled up.

Feeling his stare that had switched to her, she stopped and gave her attention to him. "Brandon, we have to study this time. It isn’t like a weekly or even quarterly exam. This is the final. The one that will determine what thirteen years of schooling has done for you."

"Okay, okay. But before we start on a new book, let’s get a drink. I’m really thirsty."

Without looking up, she pointed across the room to the refrigerator with her pencil’s eraser, keeping her eyes focused on the book ahead of her.

Opening the fridge, he stood for a minute taking inventory and casually pushing things around.

"Don’t your parents have any beer?"

No response.

"Amy, did you hear me?"

"It’s in the crisper in the bottom drawer."

"Of course, and who doesn’t like crisp beer?" he sardonically replied.

Sliding the drawer open, he pulled out a beer and stopped to take in her beautiful, long, auburn hair. It came to her waist, but her beauty didn’t stop there. Her eyes were large and green, her mouth was full and her best feature according to him, was her cute, little, up-turned nose.

Brandon knew that other guys were interested in her, even though they’d been dating for the last three years. There was only a month that they weren’t together and that was because of a stupid fight that they had about which college they were going to attend. She wanted to go to Berkley but he was dead set on going to Notre Dame for the football team. That was the school that his father wanted him to go to, and he appreciatively agreed.

They finally agreed that they would have the vacations together and when it was over, they’d get married.

In fact, he’d planned on giving her the engagement ring he’d been saving for the last year and a half for, at their graduation.

Popping open the beer with a slight hissing sound, he finally got her attention as she held a finger to her lips.

"Don’t let my parents know, or they’ll kill me!" she whispered emphatically. They were strong believers in waiting until the age of twenty-one before drinking.

Without speaking, he regained his seat next to her and held the can out to her.

"No, I don’t drink. Especially tonight." Her eyes returned to her work and her pencil once again, began scratching at the paper on the table.

"Fine, more for me," he stated matter-of-factly before taking a large swallow.

"If you’re not going to study, maybe you should leave so that I can," she slammed her book closed and threw the pencil down.

Scoffing her, he repeated what she’d done earlier by pursing his lips and holding a finger to them.

"You are so incorrigible," she giggled, leaning toward him and planting a kiss on his lips. But the entire time that they were together she knew that he was a clown quite often. In fact, that was one of the things that she’d admired about him. When things were really tough he had a way of making them appear a little more bearable.

When she’d first seen him it was during an audition for the school’s play. He’d messed his lines up exceedingly during A Christmas Carol and instead of being embarrassed, he went totally off-course and began reciting Shakespeare.

The entire auditorium of auditions went absolutely crazy and although he didn’t get the part, he managed to lighten everyone’s spirit and capturing the heart of Amy, the most sought after girl in the school.

"There, now can we study?"

Putting the can to his lips and guzzling the beer, he crunched it in his hand and belched loudly, smiling as he did it and enlarging his eyes.

"That was good! How ‘bout another?"

"One beer is enough. You have to drive!"

"I wasn’t talking about the beer. I’ve had enough of that, but I don’t know how safe I’ll drive thinking about what it would be like making love to you."

"We were going to wait until we were married, remember? You promised."

"I know. But it’s like I can see our whole future ahead of us and I can just tell that we’ll be together forever. So, why don’t we practice now and when we’re married, it’ll be perfect?"

"I love you Brandon, but I don’t think this is the right time. Besides, I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, in case you haven’t noticed."

Intensely looking at her, he could tell that she was feeling vulnerable because she wanted it, too.

Taking her chin in his hand, he slowly moved towards her, keeping direct eye contact and languidly put his lips against hers. He could feel her shudder as he embraced her in his arms and pulled her to him as he stood, taking her with him.

It was a bit awkward at the dining room table, so she took him by the hand and without speaking, led him to her bedroom.

Brandon had been in her room many times before, but the door needed to remain open or her parents would have a fit.

It was a quarter after eleven and he was to be home by twelve, but he could still make it, if he really wanted to. A few minutes late wouldn’t be that big of a deal anyway. The ride home would take about forty-five minutes and if he was going to make it, he’d have to leave right now. No chance of that, he thought, smirking. He felt like he needed to take advantage of this moment, or he would end up waiting until his wedding night, four years later.

Quietly, she closed the door pressing her hands against the opening as she did, to secure its muteness.

Both of them waited for their eyes to adjust and soon they were on the bed, pulling their clothing off, piece by piece.

It was the most amazing experience either one of them had ever had and if they had any second thoughts about it, it was too late.

Waking up, Brandon looked at the clock, "Oh my God!"

Startled, Amy jumped straight up in bed, "What?"

"It’s almost two-thirty!"

"Oh, your folks are going to hate me!" Amy whined.

"No, no, they won’t," he was struggling to get out of bed and pull his clothes on, "I’ll just tell them that I was studying so hard for the test that I fell asleep."

"Right, like they’ll really believe that one."

"They will, trust me."

With that, she pulled on her robe and followed him to the front door, making sure that they didn’t wake her parents.

"You know, maybe you should call them and let them know you’re alright."

"They have an identification box and I told them I was at Sam’s house. That alone, they would ground me for."

"Why did you tell them that?"

"I don’t know. I guess because finals are today and if I were at his house they wouldn’t suspect a make-out session. Besides," he kissed her briefly, taking his keys from his pocket, "they’re probably still asleep, anyway."

As he started up his truck, she pressed the door closed from the inside, with her back against it. Something didn’t feel right. She didn’t know what it was, probably paranoia because of the test. Either that, or perhaps her parents knew what she had just done.

Climbing the stairs for the second time that night, she’d anticipated a confrontation with her father at the top, which did not come.

Watching quietly from her bedroom window to see Brandon safely off, she blew him a kiss realizing that he couldn’t see her, but doing it nonetheless.

As Brandon got in the truck and closed the door to the unseasonably chilly air, he inserted the key and started up the engine. The truck’s large engine had a rumbling that he was genuinely proud of but at the time, wished that it wasn’t quite so loud since every sound was magnified by the stillness of the night.

Amy lived in Fremont which was about fifty miles from Millington where he lived, but if he took the freeway he could probably speed without getting into any trouble. The police weren’t really patrolling on Thursday nights. But as he neared the ramp, he noticed the barricade flashing that it would be closed due to construction between ten at night and six in the morning.

Heavy equipment and smoke was visible in the ever-glowing floodlights that washed the free flying dust into the night air from underneath the big trucks’ tires and machinery.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, "Fine, I’ll take the old highway."

There was a highway that he’d imagined years ago was used as a main thoroughfare, though people tended to stay away from it whenever possible. It was only a two-lane road and it curved in and out of the hills, but at this hour he didn’t suspect that he would be dealing with a lot of traffic.

When he saw his chance, he took a side road and turned around to head back towards Fremont and towards the old two-lane highway that could very well be his salvation for graduation night.

The road was dark and there weren’t any street lights. Aside from his own lamps, there were no others visible. And it was very rare that he’d pass someone else and it would tend to sting his eyes momentarily, as it forced them to squint, but it did wake him up.

As he rounded the side of the mountain he touched his brakes, noticing that there was an old beater ahead of him with its hazards flashing and its dome light on. Two heads were visibly making out in the back seat with an occasional arm coming up to hang in the air.

Glancing at his speed, he’d been going seventy and it had diminished down to a very unhurried thirty. Wanting to pass it but unsure of what might come around the corner, he hesitated, falling back so that when they hit the straightway, he could gain speed and pass. But, the line stayed doubled up and the sign to the side of the road glowed a haunting "Do Not Pass".

It was straight for a mere moment before it had begun to curve out to his left, around some leafy trees, and back again to the right.

The car seemed to be losing momentum as the hills began to incline and now he was only going twenty, as he shifted down another gear. On the other side the jalopy would be fine or at least faster, because the slope would be declining again, but he didn’t think he could hold out by waiting that long. Half of the time that he’d given himself to get home was already gone and he still had approximately thirty miles to go.

"Do Not Pass" flashed again out of the corner of his eye, warning him.

It was early in the morning and he hadn’t seen any cars for a good five or ten minutes. The chances, he figured, weren’t very good that someone would be coming in the other direction without him noticing the headlights first, anyway.

Falling back for a second he stepped on the gas, shifting and began to pass the car as he rounded the corner. There were no cars coming, just as he’d thought.

As he passed the car, he glanced inside and couldn’t believe his eyes. The car was full of girls, probably college aged, and two of them appeared to be naked making out in the back seat.

To confirm what he was witnessing, both girls in the back turned and smiled at him while the one closest to his side rolled her window down and projected her nude body at him half-way out the window.

Brandon did more than a double take. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and he wasn’t sure if he was impressed or appalled until the girl sticking her head out was grabbed from behind and pulled back into the car, rapping the back of her head on the top of the window.

A loud horn was honking as Brandon spun his head to view his windshield. One pair of extremely bright lights were drilling into his eyes and through the back of his head as he realized there was no escape for him.

The girls were to his right and a steep drop-off was to the left. The only option open was his brakes, which he stomped on causing a deafening screech of the tires as his truck’s body leaned from side to side. He hadn’t been going very fast so he stopped quite suddenly, but the car ahead of him darted off the road to his left and down the steep incline, throwing clouds of dust up behind it with the metal scraping against the rocks quite audibly.

Everything became ghastly quiet as he anticipated what to do now. The car ahead pulled off to the right side of the road, hazards now seeming to blink even faster as they all got out of the car, the two in the rear taking a few seconds more to pull their clothes on.

"No way," he said to himself, "No way, this whole thing was their fault! Let the girls take the blame. I would already be off of this stupid road if they hadn’t been flashing their naked bodies at me."

With that, he floored the accelerator and sped off into the night, running across one car here and there along the way, the rest of the way home. The question kept crossing his mind as to whether the driver was alright or not.

When he arrived, the garage door was closed and the house seemed to be deathly quiet. The only light visible was the one on the front porch that was on every night.

Parking in front of the house instead of running the risk of his parents hearing the garage open, he killed the lights and cut the engine, locking the doors as he left the truck at the curb.

Effortlessly, he slipped his keys into the house’s front door, trying as hard as he could to unlock it without waking the inhabitants inside.

Tip-toeing through the house, he went downstairs to the basement which had essentially become his domain. Slipping his clothes off as quickly as he could, he reached over and set his alarm before extinguishing the lamp on the table.

Lying there, he turned over a few times fluffing his pillow in vain. His mind kept reflecting on the accident and wondering if the person was alright or not. He knew that he needed to be concerned with the test, yet his frame of mind was muddled and confused. It was difficult for him to concentrate on anything and he seemed to be driving himself mad by trying to distinguish between everything that had happened tonight.

It was intended on being a special night. One that he would reflect on later with Amy and be proud of, not the night that he hurt someone.

Not being able to take it anymore, he sneaked upstairs into the medicine cabinet and grabbed his mother’s prescription of sleeping pills. The doctor had prescribed them to her only a week ago, so she wouldn’t miss one.

After putting one in his mouth and chasing it down with a cupful of cold water, he dumped another tablet into his hand, thought about it and put it back. With that beer he’d had earlier, it might be too much.

Then, he went back downstairs, climbed back into bed and fell almost immediately into a dreamless sleep.

When the buzzing alarm woke him up, he jumped in his shower and got ready for the big test. Standing in front of the medicine cabinet he growled to his reflection repeatedly, "Are you gonna do it? Are you gonna do it? You bet you are!"

He was hoping that psyching himself up before a test would have the same effect as it did before the game. It certainly couldn’t hurt and right now, he needed all the help he could get.

Running upstairs, he grabbed a bowl out of the cupboard and a box of cereal out of another, adding milk. "Think food..." he said, "You’re body needs food to think right."

Holding his cereal bowl in one hand, he shoveled it hungrily into his mouth with the other and began to look around his house. "Good, they’ve gone to work."

Making sure, he opened the garage door and peered into it, making sure that the car wasn’t there and it wasn’t.

"Well, what they don’t know, won’t hurt ‘em!" he laughed as he picked up the bowl and drank the remaining milk from the bottom.

Tossing it into the sink, he went into the bathroom and finished his preparation for school before once again talking to himself in the mirror.

When he was finally ready he ran to the front door, rotating around to find his books before returning and locking it up.

"Are you gonna do it? Huh, are you?" he asked himself in the rearview mirror before starting up his truck and turning on the radio.

Driving as a madman he cut a car off, crossing the street to enter the driveway of the school. Weaving in and out of students as they gave him disgruntled stares of disapproval and crude gestures, he brought his truck to a stop at the end of the row.

Confusion and whispering among the students was visible as he walked briskly toward the school. If he got there early enough, maybe he could study before the test this morning. The gossip could wait until later.

From behind, a body slammed into him and he turned around to face his friend, Sam who was laughing heartily, "Got you!"

"Whatever."

"You’re not worried about the test are you? I mean, you’ve been studying every night for the past week."

Brandon looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"You haven’t been studying?" he friend chided him, "Oh, man, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!"

"Hey, what’s going on here? I thought everybody was being weird because of the finals, but the Sophomores and Juniors are talking, too."

"Oh, there was an accident last night. Nobody knows who it was yet but you know, everybody wants to talk about it. You know how us small-time folks are."

"Was it somebody from school?"

"I don’t know, but I’ve heard that they’re dead."

"That really stinks, maybe it was someone trying to get out of taking this test today!" he laughed.

"No shit, especially if they neglected to study," he gave his friend a playful slug in the arm as he went down the hall to his locker.

Brandon turned into Mr. Chapman’s room and sat down. He opened his book and began reading, attempting to cram any additional information in that might be useful.

It seemed as though only seconds passed before the bell rang and the room was full of low-toned chatter. Everyone had to speculate on who they thought was dead as they took inventory of the classroom, perhaps to find out who was missing.

There was one girl missing. A shy, quiet girl that sat in the front corner of the room. As the seats filled up, her seat remained empty and the ‘Sherlocks’ of the room each drew his or her own conclusion.

Brandon remembered her. She wasn’t very pretty, but something about her was interesting. Occasionally, he’d catch her eyes wandering in his direction and she’d quickly turn away as soon as he noticed.

"Okay," the teacher began, "You all know what the big day is, so there’s really no point in me going on. Clear your desks and take a pencil as they’re passed back."

He gave a handful of pencils to each of the people on the front row, except for the one with the empty desk. On that row, he began with the girl at the second desk.

"Has anyone seen Donna?" he asked.

When he got no reply an expression of concern passed over his face before he began passing out the tests and reading the instructions aloud.

The test took four hours to complete with ten minute breaks every hour.

"Stop!" he bellowed, "Pencils up and pass the tests forward. Nelson, this means quit writing." All eyes turned to the back of the room where a heavy boy was frantically scribbling away.

Abruptly, he stopped and turned a bright crimson before passing his test forward and slouching into his seat.

Standing at the front of each row, he gathered the tests together of thirty futures and held them all in his hands at once.

It was then that Brandon noticed Donna sitting in her seat at the front of the row, handing her test in with the others. He must have been so absorbed by the test that he didn’t notice, and she seemed quite healthy as she glanced his way, shyly smiling from behind black-framed glasses. Curly blond hair outlined her freckled face as she smiled, seemingly glad that he’d noticed her.

"I’ll submit these to the computer and they should be corrected and listed by the cafeteria by the end of the day."

For the first time all day he smiled, "Have a good day!"

Mr. Chapman resumed his seat at the front of the room and organized the tests so that they were in a straight and orderly pile, placing them on the corner of the desk.

The people bustled out of the room faster than Brandon could ever remember the room clearing out, as he made his way to Mr. Chapman’s desk.

When the room was empty except for the two of them, Brandon spoke, "So, what happens if we don’t pass?"

Mr. Chapman picked his spectacles up off of the desk where he’d set them before class and put them on, looking at Brandon with sincerity.

"If you don’t pass?" he repeated back as briskly as a parrot, "Kind of concerned a bit early aren’t you? I mean, if you studied and everything, why be concerned?"

The appearance on Brandon’s face gave it away as the teacher asked, "You did study, didn’t you?"

"Of course I did! It’s my future, right?"

"I just guess I underestimated you, Brandon. I sort of figured that you were one of those jocks that were going to get into college on brawn and not brains. Sorry."

As the words rang through his ears and made contact with his brain he wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He left, feeling the teacher’s eyes on him as he passed through the doorway and headed down the hall, mixing with the others.

Waiting a few doors down was Amy, "So how do you think you did?"

She put her books on top of his so that he could carry them and placed a free arm around his waist, hooking her fingers in his belt loop.

When they came to his locker, he put their books inside and put his arm on her shoulders, "I don’t know. How do you think you did?"

"I think I did a lot better than I’d originally anticipated," she confirmed by smiling, "You did alright, too. You’re just too hard on yourself. You need to lighten up a little and not take everything so seriously."

"You think I’m taking it too seriously?" he chortled.

"Well, it’s too late to worry about it now, isn’t it?" obviously, she was reflecting on last night.

Returning her smile, he squeezed her shoulders and steered her toward the lunchroom so that they could eat.

As they got in line, Sam brushed past him with a bag of fast-food, as if to tell him he was there and sat at an empty round table.

"So, did you hear?" Amy began while they waited in line.

"About what? Did somebody make it into a good school with bad scores that wasn’t a jock?"

"No, I mean about the accident!"

"Yeah, Sammy told me this morning," he confirmed before sitting down at the reserved table across from Sam.

"Oh, the accident?" Sammy questioned.

"Yeah, heard of who it was yet?" she asked.

"No, but the way I see it is it’s gonna take a couple days if nobody saw it so that they can tell relatives and the media.. You know," he pulled his burger out of the bag and began unwrapping it.

"How’d you do?" Brandon directed toward him, but his mouth was full as he peered up from his sandwich.

After he’d swallowed his food, he said, "I’m not sure. There were some tough ones, you know? Ones I wasn’t really prepared for, like those calculus questions. My God, I doubt there’s college students that know that stuff!"

"That’s what got me," Amy chimed in, "There was stuff on the test that I don’t even remember having discussed in class. I haven’t missed any days, but I still don’t remember it, like some of those science questions about formulas."

"Well kids, I guess we’ll know in about.. two hours, huh?" Sam said, lowering his arm after having raised it to eye level to view his watch.

"How are they grading all the tests in two hours, anyway? They have chimpanzees in the back correcting them?" Brandon joked.

"No," Amy answered, setting her milk carton down, "They just run them all through a computer. It probably doesn’t take long at all."

They finished eating and Brandon walked Amy back to his locker and gave her books to her.

"Guess I’ll see you after school, huh big boy?" she did her Ms. Kitty impression for him.

"Yeah, I’ll meet you here and we can ride off into the sunset, happily ever after."

"We need to talk, too," she whispered in a quiet voice as he walked away, pretending not to hear. Stress was already a big word in his vocabulary today and ‘talking’ just meant more.

After school, he waited patiently by his locker for Amy but, seeing the gathering students at the end of the hall checking the list by the lunchroom made him apprehensive.

If he just went down the hall and came right back after checking his name, she’d probably be here by then. Then he could walk back up with her and pretend to be surprised when he saw his score for the second time.

Closing the locker, he made his pilgrimage to the hanging computer paper that was taped to the wall by the lunchroom’s entrance.

It took him several minutes to meander to the front to where he could see his name. Off to the side where the scores were it simply read, "Do Not Pass."

The road sign popped back into his mind and he thought about the accident. "Do Not Pass", like he was being punished for not heeding the sign he’d seen and now it was getting even for him not having obeyed it before.

There were only two other students in the school that had the same listing, and he was certain that the news still wasn’t as bad for them.

Hurriedly, embarrassed he forced his way out of the crowd of students, receiving irritable scorns until he was free from the pack of desiring students.

Just as he got clear, he saw Amy standing at his locker with two uniformed officers talking to her. She seemed very upset when her eyes caught his and dropped to the floor.

The officer with his back to him rotated to face him, "Brandon Post?"

"Yeah, I’m Brandon," he tried searching Amy’s face for what was being said, but couldn’t find the answer.

Suddenly, it occurred to him. The girls in the car. They’d seen him leave the accident and probably reported him. If he just played it smoothly he’d be alright, he thought.

"We need to talk to you about last night," the officer told him, clasping his elbow and directing him toward the entrance.

"Wait a minute!" he pulled his elbow out of the officer’s hand, "That’s my girlfriend, anything you need to say to me, you can tell me in front of her."

"I think she already knows."

Once again, the officer grabbed his elbow and said, "Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be alright?"

Once they got outside the doors to the back of the school, Brandon wretched his arm free and turned to face them vehemently, "Okay, now you can tell me. No one else can hear, alright? I know what this is all about."

Bewildered, the officers stared at each other before the other one cleared his throat, "It’s your parents son, they were killed last night."

"What?"

"They had a car accident and from what we heard from the witnesses, someone was heading towards them in their lane and forced them off of the road."

Exasperation hit Brandon like getting sacked by a three-hundred pound man, as he stood with utter shock scrawled upon his face.

The officer continued, "The witnesses said that it was a boy in a pickup, but we don’t know what the plates are or if he’s even from town. Unless he comes forward, we don’t really have a chance in Hell of catching him. There were conflicting reports of what the truck looked like."

Still speechless he stood there, dumbfounded.

"We’re sorry that it took so long to notify you. From what we can surmise, the car caught on fire and burned before our witnesses could get them out. They didn’t have a cell phone, so they had to call from Millington which was about twenty minutes away. I know it doesn’t seem like a long time, but it’s an eternity in that type of situation."

Expressionless and stone-faced, Brandon remained standing as the officers apologized and one of them went inside to get Amy.

When he returned, Brandon saw all of the students crowding in the entrance watching him. What were they thinking? Did they think he deliberately killed his parents? Did they even know that they were dead, or did they guess that because the officers were there, that he had done something wrong? What did it matter what they thought?

The officers informed him that they’d be coming by tomorrow morning to take him to headquarters to identify some belongings that they had found.

As Amy arrived, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, long after the officers had left. "I’m so sorry," she kept repeating muffled in his hair.

"So am I," he told her as he burst into tears.

"It’s alright, Brandon. I’m here for you, now."

"No, it’s not alright."

"I know. It isn’t," she replied, taking his keys from him and escorting him to the truck.

Having one of her girlfriends drive her car so that she could drive Brandon home, it was quiet the entire trip. Brandon stared out the window in a daze.

As they approached the house, he positioned his key in the lock, "You know, last night I was afraid they’d hear me and they weren’t even here."

He cleared his throat and swallowed, attempting not to cry this time.

Amy reached across him and turned the doorknob, opening the door to the large empty house and closing it behind them, once they were inside.

"I thought I was smarter than they were because when I got up, they were already gone and hadn’t said anything..."

"Do you want to talk to a therapist about it?"

"No! I don’t want a damn therapist! I need a friend. I need you!"

"Okay, okay. You have me. I just don’t know what kind of help a kid my age can be."

"There’s something I need to tell someone. I need to tell you."

"Okay, what?"

"I killed them. It was me. I killed my own parents!"

"Oh, Brandon," she said pulling him close and pushing his head onto her shoulder, "It isn’t your fault."

"Yes, it is. They were searching for me and..."

"That’s a parent’s job. They were doing their job. If I hadn’t given into you and we would have waited..."

"No, that’s not what I mean."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, too. I know that this isn’t the time..."

"No, I killed them! I was in the truck that ran them off the road! The freeway was closed, so I took the back road."

Pulling away to face him, straight in the eye, "I don’t get it.. You killed them on purpose?"

"No, I..."

"How could you not see them coming?"

"There was another car. It was full of naked women."

"You are full of it! You think I’m going to sit here and listen to this bullshit when your parents are dead? Are you having delusions of grandeur or something, thinking that everything happens because of you?"

"No, listen! There were naked women kissing..."

"Shut up! I don’t need to hear this!" she screamed through streaming, confused tears and pressing her hands firmly to her ears.

With that, she stormed out of the house refusing to look at him and slammed the door behind her.

Brandon collapsed on the couch and put his face in his hands, weeping like a man all alone in the world. That’s how he felt as he went into his parent’s bathroom where everything was the same as he’d left it this morning, and noticed his reflection in the mirror.

His brown hair was disheveled as it topped his pale and shadowed face. His eyes were sunken in and for a second, he thought that he appeared as Mr. Hyde, Dr. Jeckyl’s evil twin.

Glaring into the eyes of the stranger, he gritted his teeth and leaned into the mirror, "Are you gonna do it? Are you? You’re such a man, do it!"

He was shouting as his face reddened to a deep purple and his eyes scrunched up into slits. His forehead was pressed against the glass as he spewed spittle onto the surface, "I said, ‘Are you gonna do it’?"

Without answering himself, he clasped the handle to the cupboard and pulled out the plastic, brown container that held his mother’s sedatives.

Twisting the cap, he couldn’t press down hard enough to get the cap off and after a spell, cast the container angrily into the bathtub.

Sitting down on the plush toilet covering, he bent over and sobbed with his head in his hands.

Suddenly as if possessed, he bolted upright. "You know, I’m finally going to do something right," he chuckled aloud.

Soon, the giggling became a boisterous guffaw of delirium as he bent over the tub and picked the bottle up once again.

Shaking hands clasped down hard on the lid until he was able to open it, jostling a handful of pills into his palm.

Managing to steal one quick glance into the mirror, he filled the cup with water.

Putting two pills into his mouth he swallowed the water, not feeling any sensations of size or bitterness.

Continuing this procedure until all of the pills were gone, he read his expression for several minutes, watching as the anxiety drained from his face. All of the creases vanished from his forehead, but his eyes remained wet with tears as he went into the living room and turned on the television, lying down on the couch.

In the distance, he could hear the phone ring. It sounded as if it were miles away as he heard Amy’s voice on the answering machine.

"I know you’re there," she said, "When you’re finished being mad at me, I hope that you’ll call. I really need to talk to you, I’m worried."

"Too late," Brandon yawned as he rested his head on the arm of the couch, "Too late."

When he awakened to his mother stroking his head, he smiled at her. "It was just a dream?" he inquired of her, but regardless of what she’d say, he knew that it wasn’t.

"No, it’s not a dream, Honey."

Tears moistened her cheeks as she attempted to smile.

"It’s time for your journey."

"Journey?"

"Yes, follow me."

She exited down the hallway and into a room that normally would have been the bathroom that he’d exited just hours before but there was no mirror, no toilet, no bathtub or sink. It appeared as a light beige, satin floor that seemed to have air pillows moving it about. There were cream-colored, shiny walls that were as narrow as the hallway they’d just exited. Above was a blackness that seemed to carry into an eternally dark sky that stretched forever, with no light emanating from it whatsoever.

As he noticed all of these things, he turned to ask his mother where they were at, but she was gone. He was alone and behind him stretched the same nothingness that he had ahead of him.

For a moment, he considered trying to go back the way he’d come, but what would be there for him?

Continuing on in the same direction, he could see the walls opening into a large taupe room that had small wisps of clouds blowing across the floor and every so often through the air.

Walking faster now, he thought that perhaps his mother was waiting for him ahead. Maybe his dad was there, too and he could thank them both for searching for him that fateful night. He could apologize for being late and for...

As he neared the opening, he saw one man.. no one he’d ever seen before.. standing in the midst of the clouds.

Unable to speak, he continued walking briskly towards the man until he was standing directly in front of him.

"Brandon Post," he stated calmly, not waiting for a confirmation, "You’re quite unexpected."

"I know," Brandon said, hanging his head in shame, "Where are my parents?"

"They’ve gone to the other side. They’re fine! There are very comfortable there and beauty is everywhere. In fact, it’s far more beautiful than any human can fathom."

"Can you take me to them, now?" Brandon asked, perplexed and anxious.

"What you must do is turn behind you and see the wall with the cards?" he pointed, demonstrating where Brandon should be looking.

"Yes, sort of."

There was a tremendously large wall, that had thousands and thousands of yellow cards on it containing names and dates. He could make them out as he neared it.

"Find your birthday and your name. When you get it, you need to insert it into the box at the end and it will tell you which road to take."

"Road? But there are no..." his sentence dropped off as he saw seven roads lying in front of him. They all seemed identical, but he was sure that they weren’t.

Searching the wall, he finally found the year and the month that he was born. After much frustration, he found his name and when he grabbed the card, he could feel that it was his. It almost seemed to be as a missing limb, or a missing part of his soul. He felt whole carrying it to the small, metal box on the wall.

Checking over his shoulder and receiving a nod from his mentor, he slid the card into the slot and pushed it down inside.

Immediately, running across the top plate through a small window it read, "Suicide.. DO NOT PASS.. Suicide..," as it scrolled past.

Hurt, flustered and bewildered, Brandon turned to face the man standing behind his shoulder.

His face glowered angrily, "What is this, some kind of joke?"

"No, it simply states that you quit, so you must return and try again. This time though, it will be harder. The circumstances will seem more traumatic, but you must be sent back. None of this will be remembered by you, but you will be instilled to try harder."

A doorway opened, sliding up in a panel to the side of the box and cards as the white billows were sucked temporarily in. Nothing on the other side of the doorway was visible to him as he passed through.

Times were difficult for Amy. Having a baby at her young age impaired her ability to go to Berkley. She had to get a job to help her parents support her baby. It was extremely difficult at times, but she knew that deep in her heart, it would be worth it.

Adoption had been an option for her, but with Brandon dead, she couldn’t bear to leave a strand of him behind, so she named her son, Chance Brandon Sealer.

As Chance grew, he was the spitting image of his father from the darting, blue eyes to the mischievous smile. Sometimes when he hugged her, she could feel the presence of her long-lost love, Brandon.