Sam waited by the main doors of the school he attended. Teenagers exited in varying stages of excitement. Relieved to be free of the day, looking forward to the evening, making plans for the weekend. Girls gossiped and boys jostled. High school, a time when hormones rage and kids become adults. So young, yet trying to be old. "Hey" called Sam as he stepped out as Brooklyn was leaving school with Ella. They were both fifteen, shy friends, now good friends. Sam had waited for Brooklyn and there was something stirring within him. He found himself waiting for Brooklyn more and more, he found himself wanting to be with her more regularly. He called on her daily whether finding a reason to hang out, exchanging a text or even telephoning her. [I] 'We're just good friends' [/I] he said unconvincingly to his Mom and sister when they teased. "Do you want to catch a movie tonight?" he asked them both, although the question was directed at Brooklyn really, and Ella knew it. Waiting for a response he fell into step with the girls easily, like a normal group of friends. "I'm bored at home and I need to cut loose tonight" he said ([I]'play it cool'[/I] thought Sam although he was no James Dean!) trying not to come across as needy. Brooklyn once said 'he was not like other guys' and 'she felt safe around him'. Sam interpreted that to mean she thought he was gay and he didn't exactly dispel that as being 'safe' meant more time with Brooklyn. The problem was Sam remembered every impression Brooklyn left on him, the hand on his arm as she laughed at his jokes. The sensation of their thighs touching as they sat close together over lunch. If Sam had any true friend other than Brooklyn he would have told them he 'loved' Brooklyn even though he hardly knew what that meant. Sam ran. He saw Brookyln waiting by the side of the road with a pram. Inside the pram was a baby. Brooklyn started to cross the road on a drizzly morning. Sam ran. He saw the car from afar. He shouted, "Brooklyn!". She turned and looked at him. She smiled. Sam ran, faster, faster, faster. He outran the speeding car and leaped. He jumped like there was no gravity and pushed Brooklyn and the pram out of the way of the car. His Mom picked up the baby and smiled. Sam walked through an old, oak wooden door. He entered into a small ante room where there was nothing except an alcove and a dusty, spiralling staircase. In the alcove was a statuette. The figurine was female, and clothed in white. There was nothing to go except down the staircase. Down, down, down. Round and round. Down, down, down, "Down, down, down" sang a female voice hauntingly. Sam walked and walked. At the bottom of the stairs Brooklyn was stood there by a garden gate. She was dressed in white (always in white). He followed her through a gate into a woodland glade. In the middle of the glade was a pool of clearest blue. Sam was naked and walked into the pool. Down, down, down. Strong feminine arms pulled him back up. Louis graduated high school. Sam and Brooklyn held hands, proud of their boy. Sam looked at his wife. Her eyes and smile were the same. She was beautiful. Sam was old. Brooklyn was sat by his bedside, holding his hand. It had been a good life. Sam lit the fire in the cabin they had rented. The snow fell outside, but inside was warm. Louis was fast asleep. Fresh air and hiking had tired them all out and it was the kind of rather fulfilling exhaustion that came from physical endeavour rather than mental and emotional tiredness. Brooklyn had stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a red towel, drying her hair with another. "Come here gorgeous," he said smiling, biting his bottom lip. He walked over to her and placed his hands around her, resting in the small of her back. He lightly kissed her, their lips slowly coming together. Sam drifted.... -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sam rubbed his eyes. He could hear a baby crying. He looked around the room, cloaked in darkness. 'Why am I sleeping on the couch?' he wondered before he sat up fully. Then the horror hit him. He was alive. Brooklyn wasn't. She was dead. Gone. He closed his eyes. 'Please let me sleep, please let me sleep' he begged. She was there in his dreams. In his dreams they were always together. She would always be there. 'Let me sleep. Let me die. Let me never wake up. I just want this pain to stop.' His thoughts dragged him to despair almost immediately. Reality was 'no Brooklyn' and it felt awful. His heart had been given to another and she had gone, holding his heart always. Louis cried and Sam felt ashamed that he wanted to die too. He walked into his room and picked him up and soothed him. "I'm sorry son," he said as a tear dripped from his cheek onto Louis' sleepsuit as Sam changed him. Louis giggled and kicked out, his ankle dropping into his own faeces. Sam laughed and held Louis' legs up by the ankles. He wiped him clean and put a new diaper onto him. He kissed Louis, "I'll tell you something Junior, you keep an eye out for your old dad and I'll keep an eye out for you kiddo. You're going to keep me going Son. If it weren't for you I don't know what I'd do." Sam fed Louis and put him back to bed. He walked back into the living room and grabbed the blanket his Mom had put on him. He walked back into Louis' bedroom and laid on the floor next to his crib and pulled the blanket over him. He tried to sleep, but his eyes couldn't leave the boy. Sam watched the babe's chest rise and fall, the sound of his breathing breaking the silence. Sam slowly noticed sliver's of grey break underneath the night curtains. A new day was dawning yet it all felt so hopeless. Sam wished he could shrink and climb into Louis' crib. He wanted to hold him and cuddle him. He wanted to be a baby, he wanted to feel safe. 'Come back Brooklyn'.