So maybe I should've written her… maybe if I had I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't be second guessing my actions now, or be so obsessive about answering the mail. But it wasn't my fault… or was it. Would have writing her stop her? Would it have ended her misery? How could that be that the written word saves someone's life?
   She'd written, begging for a response. And I… well… I didn't give her one…

   "Tay?"
   "Tay are you okay?"
   "Tay?"
   "Tay?!"
   Jerking upright, Taylor glanced around him, his eyes focusing in on his brother. "Man," he complained rubbing his eyes, "what do you want?"
   Zac looked at him worriedly, staring at the purple bruises below his eyes. "We're at the venue now." He replied slowly.
   Nodding his tired-heavy head, Taylor rubbed his eyes again, yawned, and then stood up stretching his sore shoulders.
   "Tay? Are you okay?" Zac asked again.
   He nodded again, and walked out of the little TV room at the back of their bus. "Just tired, Zac. That's all."
   He didn't believe him. Zac didn't believe Taylor one iota. Well… he believed he was tired, but he knew there was another reason behind it. Something else was wrong and causing his sleepless nights, and all those restless dreams.
   Must give him credit. Dog tired, and yet he still played with the fire we were all known for. How he did it, I will never know. Maybe whatever it is that has him in its clutches gets pushed aside… well, at least on the stage.
   Zac gave his brother a concerned look as he pulled the bed out of the hotel couch.
   Taylor sat on the side of his bed for the night, his eyes staring out the sliding glass doors that they had yet to cover. The moonlight lightened his already pale features, turning his hair white, and making his eyes darker.
   Looking up as Isaac stepped out of the bathroom, Zac shrugged when he gave him a questioning nod towards Taylor.
   Grabbing a handful of clothes, Zac walked to the bathroom and shut himself inside. Leaning his head back against the door, he prayed for answers to the questions that he didn't even know. Quickly he stripped down and showered as fast as possible. He was tired, and drained, and bed sounded just all too good.
   Drying off and changing into fresh clothes, Zac brushed his hair back then stepped back into the room him and his brothers were sharing. Isaac was lying in his bed, reading some book, and Taylor… Taylor was still staring out the door.
   "Bathroom's open, Tay." Zac told him cautiously, his eyes looking for the barest hint of something he could go on. Looking for anything that would give away his brother's secret.
   Nodding slowly, Taylor stood up silently and took his own pile of clothes with him along with a toothbrush. "Thanks Zac." He murmured, barely audibly.
   "Sure." He answered back, just as quietly.
   Closing the door behind him, Taylor sucked in deep breaths as quickly as he could. It hurt. It always hurt now. His stomach clenched and twisted harshly inside him and he knew what he'd done was wrong. That this was his deserving punishment.
   He took it slow, stripping down and showering, then drying off and changing back into clothes. Meticulously he brushed his teeth. Taking extra care for no reason. Just passing the time, trying to speed up the night he knew would be painstakingly unhurried. Nothing pushed time.
   Turning out the light before he stepped out, Taylor let his eyes adjust to the dark room. Curtains drawn and the lights off, he stepped carefully, trying to avoid any unseen dangerous obstacles.
   He lie in silence, letting the blackness surround him, choke him. The ceiling above was swallowed in the dark, nothing could be made out but very vague shadows and small noises as his brothers rolled over, or snored, or coughed, or sneezed.
   As quietly as he could be, Taylor removed the letter from under his pillow. His personal one, he didn't like using hotel pillows. Sure they said they washed all the cases, but he wanted his own pillow. Couldn't sleep with his head on a strange one.
   The crinkling of the papers was louder than usual in their noiseless room.
   "Are you ever going to talk about it?"
   The sound of his brother's voice interrupting his solitude caused Taylor to jump and give a small shriek. "Jesus, Zac." He muttered angrily. "Couldn't you give me any other subtle hint that you were still awake?"
   Getting out of his bed, he crawled up into Taylor's. "No, because if I did I wouldn't have gotten any answers." He explained truthfully.
   Sighing, Taylor leaned his back against the headboard, staring at Zac's face a foot away. "What do you want to know?"
   "Why you look like you lost your best friend, and Ike and I are still around." His response was quick and none-too-subtle.
   The debate started in his head. Would his brother look at him differently? Call him a selfish prick and all the other bad words he'd already called himself a million times over.
   "You know, your silence is really starting to get on my nerves."
   Taylor jumped again, and this time Isaac turned on the light as he got up as well and over to his bed.
   He shook his head; "you two really need to make a lot more noise. Cause I don't think my heart can take much more of this."
   "Just wait." Zac warned smiling, "we're teaching the same trade to Mack."
   Rolling his eyes, Taylor crossed his arms over his chest. The letters still in his right hand.
   "Is that what's causing it?" Isaac asked nodding towards the envelopes.
   Swallowing hard, Taylor nodded and handed it over to them.
   Zac grabbed it first, and Isaac read it over his shoulder.
   Seconds passed into minutes and Taylor felt himself start to sweat and his throat dry out. When he was about to cry out and tell them to go somewhere else to read them, they looked up at him blankly. More guilt filled him and he turned away.
   "I should've written to her, I know." He muttered contemptuously.
   "Tay… you can't be blaming yourself for this…" Isaac started slowly, questioning if he was, but already knowing that he did.
   Taylor nodded sharply. "I could have written her. Could have given her everything she wanted. And now look at that!" He yelled, pulling the picture from deep inside the third envelope. "Do you see those?" He asked harshly.
   Zac stared blankly at the photograph. Angry marks covering the pale skin of arms, stomach, and wrists… oh God, the wrists were worse. Criss-crosses, large x's carved intricately into the skin, spiraling and connecting to the other cuts. "What do you think happened to her?" He asked numbly.
   Isaac shook his head, "I don't know."
   Taylor leapt from his bed, "What?" He asked loudly, "You can't connect the dots here, Ike?" His hand grabbed the photograph and held it up, "What do you think happened to her? I wrote to her four months ago, Ike? FOUR!"
   His brother's watched him and he started breathing heavily, "And she hasn't answered." He continued more quietly, more subdued. "And there's only one real explanation as to why."
   It took short seconds for the meaning to sink in. "You don't know that, Tay!" Isaac shouted. "You don't know! Maybe she just doesn't care about you anymore! Maybe she'd rather forget she even pleaded for a damn response to you! Maybe she's gone and getting help! You don't know, Taylor!"
   Sinking back down on the edge of the bed, Taylor shook his head again, "But that's it, Ike. I do."
   That was it. That was how the conversation ended. Taylor wrapped in his own guilt and Isaac and Zac powerless to stop it.

   To the world you are one person, but to one person you are the world.