.•IT CAN'T BE REAL•.

Chapter Seven: .•promise•.

   Bryson wrapped his hind paw in bandages, trying to soak up the blood. He winced out of pain from his sprained ankle. Why in the world would Lee attempt to hurt me? Bryson wondered. He pricked his ears to the sound of his bedroom door being knocked on. "Come in." Bryson said, calmly. Jason entered the room. "Hey, how's your paw?" Jason asked. "Oh, it's fine. Fine." Bryson replied. Jason might not be a brat after all. Jason sat down beside Bryson, brushing his fur out of his face. Bryson was startled, Jason never showed his eyes, nobody knew why. "I don't like it here..." Jason mumbled. "Me neither, bud," Bryson said, lifting Jason's muzzle with his paw, "But I promise, I'll figure out a way to get us out of here." Jason smiled, laughing a bit. "You going to cut of that fluff ball or not?" Bryson said, lifting an eyebrow. Jason continued laughing, before saying, "Maybe." Bryson smiled, laughing, "I love you, Bryson." Jason said, hugging his older brother.

Bryson looked out his window, watching the sun setting, Jason in his arms. "Are you going to keep your promise?" Jason asked, resting his head on his brother. "Yep. You better believe it." Bryson said, writing down a note, shoving it in his pocket. "Did you hear about Logan?" Jason asked. Memories shot through Bryson's brain. "Yeah... poor thing. He's younger than you, even." Bryson muttered. "Sad, isn't it? Logan was nice. For his age. His sister was nice- no. She wasn't. She hurt you." Jason glared at his paws. "I should make it up for her." Bryson said. "Don't. She's rude." Jason demanded. "I'll be right back." Bryson said, hugging his brother, "I want you to stay here. I'll be right back, okay?" Jason nodded, hugging him back.

   Bryson headed out the door after filling the flashlight with batteries. Think... where is Logan familiar with.... THE TRAIN TRACKS! He thought. "Logan!" Bryson called as he limped into the clearing. His claws clicked against the train tracks. "Logan!" he shouted once again. The light flickered before going off completely. "What the-" Bryson whipped around, facing the woods. A cool breeze swept across his face. A shadow loomed over the trees, its shape distorted. He stared, his flashlight shining on it. Two odd crescent shaped objects rose up. He heard a distant flash of a camera. It must be Logan! Lee would be so happy! Bryson thought, smiling. "Logan, I'm coming!" Something was close. The sound ringing through his ears. Bryson whipped around, facing an approaching train. There was no use in running. In the blink of an eye, Bryson Summerfield was no more.

   Jason got up, his frizzed up hair covering his eyes. "Bryson!" he sat up straight in his bed, smiling. There was no reply. "Bryson?..." Jason repeated. Poor guy must still be asleep after going on the walk. Jason got ready, walking downstairs. An unfamiliar voice spoke. Then Peter. Jason hid behind the rail. "Listen, sir. In what relation do you have to Bryson Avery Summerfield?" the strange voice asked. "I am his uncle." Peter replied. Jason panicked. Had his brother done something wrong? No, he's too nice. "Listen, Peter Maxwell." the man said, "Your nephew's body was found on the train tracks. We suppose he jumped into the tracks. Has Bryson Summerfield ever been suicidal?" Peter shook his head. "No, sir. Bryson was the kindest and happiest kid I've known." Peter spoke, "Are you sure he wasn't pushed? Or accidentally stepped on the tracks?" "He would've heard the train coming." Jason's eyes filled with tears the more he listened to the conversation. Jason ran back upstairs, getting his jacket on, opening the window. "He'll figure out a way to get me out of here..."