After Elliot and Thomas vanished, probably into his room, I lost focus and couldn't concentrate on reading anymore.

Mom and Dad weren't home, they had to arrange everything with they new work places. Sadly, I will have school to attend as well, summer break would be over in two weeks.

Where would Elliot be going? He did got accepted into a few colleges, but he never told me his decision. Or if he made one, at least. Mentally taking a note to ask him, I got up. Maybe I could bake something. Mom and I often baked in the past.

I opened some drawers and looked at the ingredients we got. Maybe I could make cookies. Or brownies. Brookies it is.

The memory of me rushing back and forth in the kitchen 'cause I couldn't decide of what to bake left me smiling a little bit. Back then, Mom tought me the creation of brookies. It's just brownies and cookies combined and wasn't hard to learn.

While mixing everything together, it started to feel more like I was mixing my brain as well. It felt like every small thing caught my nerves. Small drops of sweat formed on my forehead. I wanted to get rid of that feeling.

One last time.

I rushed upstairs and reached for the little box with pills. As soon as I was mixing the brownie dough, I felt better. Relieved, I let go of a breath. These things would get the rest of me.

Next time I feel awful I would just go on a walk. Or watch TV, whatever takes my mind of things.

As the brookies baked in the oven I found myself humming to a song as I cleaned up the kitchen counter and put back everything I used, ingredients and tools.

I spun around and let go of a yelp. Elliot and Thomas stood there, big and twinkling eyes. "You guys scared the shit out of me." I rubbed my eyes. "Sorry, but honestly, that smell is awesome so we came to check out what it is, and standing here we didn't wanted to interrupt your little moment. At least I didn't." As Thomas explained he was gesturing with his hands a lot.

Elliot gave me a crooked smile, signaling he agreed." Yeah, uh, I made brookies. They're not finished, but if they are feel free to take a bite."

"We so will." Elliot assured, then leaned to Thomas, whispering loudly. "Trust me, Hope's baking skills are next level. Her pastries always taste like heaven." Seeing now both their beaming faces, I blushed a little.

"If you say so." I don't want to sound like those girls that be like 'Stop, it's not that good.' 'Cause I enjoy eating the food I made. Though I love baking more than cooking.

"I'll tell you once they're cooled down and ready to eat."

//°°\\

While eating, I noticed something in my brother's face has changed. His eyes did light up once we all took a bite, but he kinda zones out and has this sad or empty gaze. I don't want him to feel sad or empty.

I don't want him to have to deal with thoughts like mine. I can dim them down. Lock them up, but he can't. And when the time comes where my thoughts are screaming again, I'm afraid he looks just like that. Like I'm seeing a reflection of my feelings.

When Thomas or I start talking to him, it does look like it vanishes and gets replaced with happiness or enjoyment, but that's only 'til he's silent again.

Thomas is really nice, by the way. He talks very much and pulls some bad jokes-so bad I actually have to laugh at them-and he makes Elliot happy. They seem so close, like they know each other since they were children.

They have a real friendship, one that I crave since all of my friends turned their backs on me, but I'm still glad they found each other.

The embarrassing greeting we had was forgotten by now as well, wich I'm more than glad about. I would say he likes me, though that most likely would be 'cause I'm his friend's sister.

When we all finished, I told them they could go upstairs. I put our plates beside the sink and arranged the brookies that were left onto a plate. I washed the dishes and put everything away, all while repeating some conversations in my head over again.

Both of them really enjoyed my pastries and Thomas announced he would come over every time I bake from now on.

When the sun had it's golden hour, my parents were already home aswell and talked a little with Thomas. He seemed so confident. Pulled one bad dad-joke and went home. My parents, of course, like him aswell.

Exhausted, I walked up the stairs. I didn't plan on going to sleep yet, but reading in bed sounded very good to me, though I abruptly stopped, once I heard my parents talking , my name being said.

"What about Hope?" Dad.

"What about her?" Mom asked. "Don't you notice she changed? She seems so distant. Sometimes I think she looks so unhappy that I think she was the one who got shot." "Morris! Don't say things like that."

"Angela, please, don't you notice? We should talk to her again about seeing a therapist. It seems to help Elliot."

"But isn't Elliot sad often, too? Everytime I enter his room and he is alone he isn't even doing anything. He is staring blankly at the ceiling. Or his wall."

"He is in good hands, we already talked about that. And we told him to come to us when he doesn't feel good or anything having to do with that." He sounds desperate. "Besides, he found himself a hilarious new friend."

"We should talk to Hope." Mom said, it was as if that was the final statement.

"Wait. Listen to me, please. We have to give her time aswell. Let her settle in. She was the one who didn't wanted to move here in the first place. She always got along by herself. She can handle it and I trust her with coming to us when she needs something."

Only now I noticed tears dropped of my cheek. Silently crying I continued to eavesdrop.

"But what if not? School starts for her in two weeks, besides that, she is going to be all by herself. I don't want her to isolate herself before she even managed to meet some kids her age!"

Arms wrapped around me, I nearly flinched, then realized it was Elliot. Silently he sat down besides me and we both quetliy listened to our parents discussion. I wrapped my arms around him, too.

Maybe this way was ours to give each other comfort. To show the one another we were there for each other. Understanding. Caring. With no pity.

"She didn't even had-never mind." Dad didn't even needed to finish his sentence. I already understood what he meant.

"I'm not having that conversation with you. Hope has friends." A silence that speaks loud. "Fine, had, but she'll manage it. Elliot made a friend already, next time she gets to go outside and find someone."

"You're sounding ridiculous. Besides, with one thing I agree on; I'm not having this conversation with you."

That's it. Everything was said. For them. I did feel kind of bad 'cause I really am not talking with anyone at all and kept my mind problems to myself, but so what? What would they even do in the first place? Send me to see a therapist? Not in this life.

My tears never stopped gushing out of my eyes, though no sobs or cries left my lips. Elliot took me with him to his room and I noticed his eyes where a bit glassy as well.

We sat on his bed and talked for what felt like hours.

He daclared he was going to the University of Asheville.

We indeed had some very similar feelings, though he told me how his therapy was helping him. I'm very glad it is, even though he managed to slip one try telling me it would help me, too.

But at this time, nothing could convince me. I was fine. Mostly. With some little help, but who cares. I don't.

We both got tired, and I decided I would have a sleepover at his. Snuggling into his, as well, big bed, I closed my eyes and soon drifted off.

Not for long, apparently. I shot straight up. Heavy breaths made my chest rise fast and unsteady, sweat covering my palms and forehead.

I pressed my hand onto my chest and started to calm myself down. That couldn't be that hard.

It was.

It took me at least fifteen minutes to lay back down after making sure I didn't wake Elliot up. He slept like he lay in a casket, wich I got a jump scare from, but anyways.

After that small incident, wich could be even scarier than my nightmare, I fell asleep again and woke up again when the sun was rising, Elliot's nearly soundless snores beside me.

From his room, you could watch the sun paint warm, yellowish morning rays over the floor.

What a beautiful view.

//°°\\

A/n:

This chapter took a while to finish because of lack of time, but I'm finally done with studying for exams! (Math was today)

I now plan to uptade more often again and I do have time now.

I still hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Have a good day/night.

X WrittenBy09