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Prologue:

“Watch me, Daddy! Watch me! I can swing higher then you!”

“No way, ace! You could never swing higher then your dad!”

“Uh huh! Watch me!”

The echoing of innocent giggles in his mind jarred him from the restless slumber he’d unwillingly fallen into late the night before. Sleep was hard to come by now as he hadn’t been able to sleep much during the past few days, or rather much at all since everything had started. His body was slowly and painfully becoming immune to the effects of insomnia, so as he slipped back into the land of the living, he was able to completely ignore the splitting bouts of pain in all areas of his head. Thus of which left him aware of the fact that his face was soaked with a warm, salty liquid. Tears. Tears that had seemed to not once stop flowing since this began and could be brought on by the simple thinking of a faint memory. Instead of opening his eyes, he squeezed them even tighter together and felt the wet beads slide down both cheeks at an angle, pass each ear, and fall onto the royal blue cotton pillow case. Sleep for him was no longer peaceful, but plagued with dreams of memories and nightmares of fear.

Whimpering quietly as he worked to control his slowly becoming labored breathing, he brought a numb hand up to his concealed blood shot eyes and held it there, not able to erase the image he had been dreaming about from his mind. No matter what happened in the end, he knew it would always be forever etched in the back of his mind. As would all dreams and memories. Dry lips parting, he drew in a shaky breath of air and held it for several seconds on end before finally blowing it back out. His eyes were beginning to sting and he found himself rubbing at them furiously, attempting to wipe the salty wetness away. It only caused the skin of his upper cheeks to become irritated and his hand dropped to his side.

A source of heat across his whole upper half brought his eyes unwillingly open. He was forced to squint as rays of sunshine poured in through the open draped window across the room. And as if mocking him, the sun bathed him and only him in it's splendid bright light. Yes, it felt like mockery to him. Brightness was supposed to mean cheery, but he was encased in a dark world full of sadness, confusion, and helplessness. Anything bright seemed wrong to him. He could find no way to smile, no way to laugh, but he found many ways to cry. Too many ways and reasons. With all of the guilt weighing down on his chest like a ton of bricks, how could he not?

His back was aching and that brought about a new set of emotions. He didn’t know how to react to pain anymore, his feelings were out of whack. But the dull pain sent signals to his brain that caused him to struggle to sit up. He groaned. And now his temples began to throb against his skull, sending waves of discomfort to his brain. Throwing the sheet and down comforter away from his body, he rose from the bed and felt his feet hit the cold, carpeted floor with a light, quiet thump. The bathroom was located across the room, only feet away, yet it seemed to take an eternity to get there. He just couldn't will his body to move any faster. It was as if he felt himself dying. But at last his feet came in contact with the even colder spanish-style tiled flooring and he made his way toward the shower seperate from the bath, stripped himself of his boxers, reached in to turn the water on as hot as his body could withstand and stepped in.

Within moments the water was scalding and steam was enveloping the bathroom in it's entirety. It brought him little relief, though. Maybe only soothed the aching of his muscles and joints if even that. The water washed down on him, sending a continuous stream of droplets in all directions on his body. He never noticed himself numbly reaching for the soap and lathering it upon himself, nor did he watch it rinse away. The next thing he knew, he was stepping out of the steam-filled bathroom and back into the master bedroom, towel wrapped around his waste. A total of seven and a half minutes had rolled by from the time he had stepped into the shower to the time he had stepped back into the bedroom. It was becoming a record time for him.

For the first time since he had woken up, he realized that Kelly had not been lying in bed next to him. It didn't seem to phase him though as his wife was usually awake before him or he just didn't sleep at all and was awake when she came downstairs. This morning, however, his wife had awaken before him. As odd as it seemed, he couldn't remember if she had been in bed asleep by the time he came in and finally succombed to sleep himself. She didn't sleep much now either. More then him, but not much at all.

Slipping on a pair of baggy grey sweats, socks, and a light tank, he soon found himself leaving the safe haven of the bedroom and walking down the hall towards the stairs. The house was eerily quiet; as hard as he strained his ears and held his breath, he couldn't hear any other sound besides that of his own pounding heart. He began to worry where Kelly was. And as he made a quick stop by the guest room where his mother had been staying, he didn't even find her in there. He left her room and descended the stairs quickly. The spacious living-room was empty and much to his distress. So he crossed the length of the living-room, eyes set on the entrance to kitchen, and walked through its doorway.

There he froze, his breath falling short of complete. His clouded brown eyes clouding over even more in confusion. He immediately spotted Kelly and his mother seated at the tiny kitchen table, big enough for four. He would have noticed his wife's blotchy cheeks and swollen red eyes, but he became distracted at the fact that his family wasn't alone in the kitchen. It arose no question to his mind as to who this other man and woman were. He'd seen them more then he had wished in the past weeks . Both dressed in casual suits, hands clasped behind their backs, drew back as he entered the kitchen. Their facial expressions were somber and for the first time, he didn't know how to read them. Fear rose in his throat, a knot tightening in his stomach. "What's going on?" he struggled to get his voice to project. Something was not right with this picture. It was too early for them to be there. They never came over that early. But he never waited for them to answer as panic snaked it's way thoughout his body. He shot his attention to his wife when he heard her whimper and he finally noticed her appearance and demeanor. The tears that had already stained her flushed cheeks and new ones that were brimming her eyes. His mother sat beside her, clutching his wife's hand tightly.

His face paled as he visibly watched his wife shaking from her seat. "Alex..." she whispered, her voice clogged and tears slipping from her eyes. "T-they...found Dylan."

For a moment he was about to jump and shot for joy with a renewed happiness, but the moment was short lived and his felt his knees grow weak. His hand flew out to the doorframe to steady his quickly failing balance. "Then why are you crying?" he asked stupidly, his own tears returning to their spot and escaping down his cheeks. He already knew the answer to that. He could feel it stabbing at his heart, but he didn't want to believe it. No, this couldn't be the way it would end up, and he found himself shaking his head hastily, his breathing becoming labored again.

"Mr. McLean," the woman spoke, stepping towards him and offering a comforting hand.

But he cowered away from her touch as if it would burn his skin all the way down to his bones. "No..." he whispered , clentching his eyes shut. "No! He's not, damnit! No!"

"Mr. McLean, we're sorry-" It was the male who spoke this time.

"You're wrong! You're both wrong!" he screamed admist the sobs that broke out from his wife's mouth, glaring hatefully, the tears blurring his vision. "He's not gone! Damnit, no! Oh God no, please!!!"

"Oh Alex," his mother cried, jumping up from her seat and rushing towards him. He never saw her reach him, though, as he felt his legs buckeling beneath him and a sharp pain to his forehead sent him spiraling into the dark depths of unconsciousness.