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    Young Sage
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Black Star Cross - 19. Miracle Doctors


Black Star Cross



Chapter 19: Miracle Doctors



The red light coming from the pit of the black void was coming ever so closer to me. I no longer felt Anthony’s safe presence next to me. I no longer felt his warmth protecting me from the cold, like it has numerous times before. I was unprotected, and I knew that I could not fight off this thing that I was about to face once again. I could hear the laughter of the homicidal maniac that I was doomed to suffer from, off in the distance.



“Shawn...Shawn...” the voice taunted.



It knew that I was coming. It knew that I had no choice but to go back there and, this time, die a horrible and agonizing death.



Wait. What is that? That smell...I remember that smell! It’s Anthony! But where? I can’t see him anywhere. But he’s here somewhere; I can sense it.



“Shawn...Shawn!” the voice repeated. It was now getting more serious.



Anthony needs to show up soon. The voice is getting louder. It’s getting more serious, more demanding. Like it wasn’t so to begin with. The scent, his scent...it was all around me. It was enveloping me. I should embrace this smell. Maybe it can help me against the voice. Maybe it can protect me from the voice’s owner.



For a split second, I saw Anthony’s face just hovering above mine. We were in Emmy’s bedroom, and he was holding me. I swear he looked so concerned right about then. But, like I said, it was only for a second. Then, I was back into the blackness again. What was that? Wait a minute. Didn’t he say that this was all a dream one time? That none of this, what I’m experiencing right now, is real? Can the voice really do no harm to me?



Okay, deep breathes now. Concentrate. Don’t let the red light or the voice get to you. Don’t let them distract you. Concentrate on the smell. Concentrate on being back with Anthony in Emmy’s room. Relax. On the count of three, you’ll open your eyes and you’ll be back in reality. Okay? One...two...three.



When I opened my eyes, I was overjoyed that I was back in Emmy’s room. As I looked around, my gaze crossed Anthony’s face, which looked really worried. He kept saying “Shawn” over and over again. Was he the voice in my attack? Had I just manifested it to be the voice of the evil Anthony in my nightmare? Why would I do that? Anyways, he saw that I had snapped out of it and looked so relieved.



“Dude, you finally came through?”



“Yeah,” I replied shakily.



“You had me worried there for a moment.”



“I’m sorry.”



“So,” he started solemnly. “You saw me in there, didn’t you?”



I gave him a look of puzzlement before I started digesting what he said. He must’ve meant the dream. Was he in there? I tried to remember if he was or not.



“I...I don’t think so. Not really. I saw the red light again and heard your voice. But it sounded...evil. Bad, kinda. Like, it was going to hurt me as soon as I got there. But, I also could smell you. Like, your cologne or something. I knew that you, the real you, was close by. Then I saw your face, for real, and I slipped back into the darkness until I convinced myself to bring myself out.”



He just sat there and stared at me, taking all of this in.



“Wow,” he stated plainly. “Just what is going on inside that head of yours?”



“You’re not mad at what I described to you? About the nightmare, I mean?”



When I heard nothing coming out of his mouth, I started to get worried. I knew he was mad at me! I knew that he thought that I was weird for having such a dream!



“I don’t know what to make of it,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’m a little shocked that you could even come up with such a dream. But, I’m scared too, you know? It’s weird, but once I thought about it, I realized that it’s not surprising that you dreamt what you did. I mean, look at all that I’ve done to you over the past couple of years. It makes sense that I’d be doing something horrible like...that in your nightmare. It’s all your brain can really identify with. I’m sorry.”



How on earth did Anthony go from trying to reassure me that he’s not angry with me, to apologizing for everything? And when did he get so analytical? Great, now we’re both in a depressed mood. How did I manage to bring Anthony down as well? I should apologize for making him feel so down and all. I mean, even the atmosphere is grey and moody.



“Hey Shawn?” Anthony said, snapping me out of my thoughts.



“Yeah?”



“I’ve let go of you for the past several minutes, and you haven’t seemed to have gone back into panic mode yet.”



I just noticed it when he said it; he was right. He was sitting further away from me now, and I had no bodily contact with him. Even after realizing this, I still didn’t fall back into my own nightmare again. Something must be going right.



“Yeah. I think I’m going to be alright. At least for now, anyways.”



He managed to break a small smile on his face. I liked that.



“That’s good. We’ll just take it one step at a time. I’m sure we’ll get over this eventually.”



I broke out a smile of my own.



“Yeah. I hope so.”



We stayed in Emmy’s room for the remainder of the day, talking and whatnot. Anthony had brought over his homework and helped me get caught up on the things that I had missed today. I greatly appreciated his generosity and liked just being with him, even if it’s just working on homework. It wasn’t until it was already dark out that he said that he had to go back home. I guess that it was inevitable. He has a home to go to, too. We said our goodbyes and he left, leaving me to go back upstairs and to my own room. I was nervous about going to sleep, but decided that I wasn’t going to let the nightmare affect me anymore.



However, I did find getting to sleep incredibly difficult that night. I was still too nervous to fall asleep, which only increased as the night went on. Also, whenever I did go to sleep, I would have bad dreams again. Not as severe as the one a couple nights ago, but still frightening nonetheless. Needless to say, I did not get a good night’s sleep.



~~~



I woke up groggy and irritable the next morning. My bad mood was detected easily by Emmy, who seemed to have noticed just as soon as I walked into the kitchen. After mumbling through menial questions that I could care shit about, I put together my bookbag in a half-asleep daze and walked with Stephanie and Erik to the bus stop.



Upon arriving at school, I headed straight for my locker, not bothering with apologizing with people that I, none too nicely, nudged out of the way. The lock combination on my locker seemed to have changed overnight, for it looked like only a rocket scientist could get my locker open. I didn’t notice it when Anthony came up next to me. Now that I think about it, isn’t his locker in another hall? What’s he doing here? Why does he keep coming here? When does he get here anyways? He always seems to have his books with him whenever he comes to visit me.



I was about to tell Anthony that I wasn’t feeling like dealing with any of his emotional “let’s have sex, but I’m still straight” baggage today, but when I looked up, I saw that he was in just as much of a rotten mood as I was.



“Hey,” he said, or more like murmured. It was barely audible.



“And why are YOU in such a bad mood?” I inquired, not hiding the snobbishness in my voice. A death glare from his face was launched, but my own negative attitude allowed me to be unfazed by it.



“It’s nothing. I just didn’t get any sleep last night.”



Now THAT was coincidental. Are my troubles being passed onto Anthony?



“Are you getting nightmares too?” I asked, genuinely concerned, but still sounding like I was belittling him.



“No, I just had trouble falling asleep. No nightmares or anything like that.”



Then we both yawned simultaneously. I found that to be cute, which led to a small smile appearing on my face. Anthony, however, must not have thought the same thing, which led to him looking at me funny as I smiled at him for no apparent reason.



“What?” I questioned.



“What did you find so damn funny that you had to smile like that?”



Cornered. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell him the truth. It’s worked so far.



“I just thought that it was cute, the way we both yawned at the same time.”



Anthony just looked at me like I had three heads. Then he shook his head, as if to alleviate having to think about it any longer.



“Dude, sometimes I wonder if you have a bi-polar disorder,” he remarked.



I was going to say something witty back to him, but the warning bell rang, meaning that we had to get to class pronto. When we arrived, I was pleased to see Anthony coming to sit next to me again. Maybe things were starting to get better.



~~~



At the end of the day, Anthony came up to me just as I was heading for the bus. When he told me that I could ride home with him, I didn’t refuse his offer. But I couldn’t help sensing that there was something more to this than just a friendly gesture. I found out what it was when we started driving back to Emmy’s.



“Dude, with all the nightmares and panic attacks you seem to be getting, I think that you should see a shrink,” he said.



The fact that he said it so suddenly and randomly caused a delay in the thinking process for me. Then, once I registered what he had said in my mind, it took me even more time to figure out what to say. Needless to say, the silence that ensued after he had made his statement was uncomfortable. Why does everybody think that I need to go see a shrink? Did Emmy set him up to do this?



“I’m sorry,” he said, after several minutes of silence. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”



“No,” I interrupted, “it’s not that. It’s just...why does everybody think that I need to talk to some professional? I’m okay! I don’t need somebody trying to pry their way into my head.”



Anthony thought about that before answering.



“I still think that you should go see one. Talking to me may help some, but only a professional psychologist can help stop the nightmares and panic attacks from happening.”



Nothing else was said during the trip home. Anthony dropped me off at Emmy’s, but said that he couldn’t stay over today. Feeling a bit down from that, I said my goodbye and went inside. Was it just me, or was it coincidental that my mood seemed to be matching the weather for today; dark and gloomy, but with no rain...yet.



Nothing much was going on in the house, so I said hello to Emmy and made my way upstairs to my room. I dropped my bookbag on the floor and crashed on my bed.



Geez, it’s freakin’ lonely around here. But all I ever see is Anthony, so it’s not like I have a lot of friends who all couldn’t stop by today. Great, now Anthony think that I should see a shrink, and I bet that Emmy’s thinking the same thing. Maybe I should see one just to get them off my back. But only once, just to say that I did it.



It was around then that I decided not to think about the matter anymore and start thinking about something more pleasing. And so came the erotic fantasies. The one where we’re in this bed; the one where we’re in either my original or his bed; the one where we’re at the school bathroom while class is in session. I’m on top, plowing through his hairy ass like there’s no tomorrow. He’s on top, thrusting into me as I’m crying out in ecstasy. The one where we’re 69ing in the back seat of his car. As I’m thinking all of this out, my fingers are nimbly playing with my erect nipples, trying in vain to recreate that sensation I felt when he licked, sucked, and nibbled on them that one time. It was probably the best hour I had in a long time. I came twice.



Later, once I had recuperated, I went downstairs to have dinner with Emmy and the kids. I did my homework, showered (whilst remembering that one time where Anthony barged into the room to find me completely naked, save for a pair of boxers covering what’s most important), and went to bed. A rather mundane thing for me to do, but I’m really starting to like having a mundane life.



~~~



Of course, I had a hard time falling asleep again that night. The next day, at school, I found that Anthony didn’t have a good night’s rest either. Actually, this pattern continued on for the rest of the week, AND onto the following. Every time I questioned him about his lack of sleep, he always responded with “I just couldn’t get to sleep, that’s all.” He claims that he is not experiencing any nightmares, though those things can be hard to remember. I know that I can barely, if at all, remember any of my dreams, good or bad. So nightmares were out of the list of things that are keeping him up. I wondered if it was caffeine. I remember, way back when, plenty of nights where I had pop late at night and could never get to sleep. But Anthony told me that he thought the same thing, cut out caffeine altogether, and still isn’t getting any sleep.



Well, I was stumped. Now that I think about it, why was I so concerned with his sleeping problems? Why wasn’t I concentrating on my own? By now, we were both grumpy to everyone. Anthony told me that he got into a fight with his mom over something trivial because of the sleep deprivation. I almost yelled at Stephanie for the same thing, for the same reason. I finally thought that I had the solution to his sleeplessness when he told me on the following Thursday that he kept tossing and turning at night. He couldn’t keep still long enough for him to really get to sleep. An epiphany went off in my head, but I kept silent about it, just in case I was wrong. It was controversial, at least to Anthony it would be, but it could be totally accurate.



Apparently, Anthony was too sleepy to even offer me a ride home, for as soon as I had my things ready, he was nowhere in sight. I had to take the bus home again. I don’t really mind the bus. It’s just that riding with Anthony is much more fun than sitting next to 6th graders.



That night, Emmy told me that one of her sons was coming up to visit the day after tomorrow while he was in town. He was, evidently, an underling (her words) for a major company situated in the adjacent city next to us. All I got from that is that there would be many uncomfortable silences when he finds out that his mom practically adopted a teenager from a broken home. I made sure not to shower that night and sleep, or at least try to, in the shirt that I was wearing.



The next day, as expected, Anthony came up to me before the beginning of class. Where are his friends when he does this? Do they know what he’s doing? Anyways, he looked ragged, as was to be expected as of recently. I summoned all my energy and turned to face him.



“Hey. I was thinking about you not sleeping again, and I think I know how to fix it.”



“Oh yeah? How’s that?”



I took out my shirt that I had worn yesterday from my locker and handed it to him. He looked down at it, then up to me, his face in puzzlement.



“You said that you had a hard time falling asleep, and that you tossed and turned at night. Really, you only started doing this when we stopped sleeping with each other, right? So, I was thinking that maybe all you need is something to remind you of me. Something to comfort you at night. Like how I told you about those spouses that keep their significant other’s shirt with them at night when the other’s gone.”



I don’t know whether it was a good thing or not, but Anthony’s facial expression didn’t change at all during the entire time I was talking. Please let it be a good thing.



“Dude, I know that you think that we should be together, and that I supposedly ‘love’ you and all,” he started, making sure to say “love” in a hushed voice. “But this has got to be your worst yet. I mean, are you that delusional that you’d be resorting to this stuff? Don’t you think that you’re getting a little desperate here, dude?”



It was a bad idea to bash me when I, myself, have had little sleep. But, I was going to be the bigger man in this.



“Look, do you want to sleep better or not?” I snapped.



“I don’t think that this...”



“I think it will,” I interrupted. “You may not like it, but it is probably the only way you’re getting to sleep tonight. Now, I’ll gladly take back my shirt if you really don’t want it...”



Okay, so I wasn’t that much bigger of a man. I reached over to grab my shirt back, letting him know that I meant it, but he pulled the shirt back to him. I gave him a knowing look.



“Look, just to prove you wrong, I’ll sleep with the thing tonight. And when I wake up worse off than I am now, the first thing I’ll do is call you at six in the freaking morning and bitch about how stupid your idea was.”



That was a totally lame excuse to cover up his gratefulness, but I let it slide. At least he’ll try it. And if my assumptions are right, he’ll drop like a stone as soon as he hits the bed with my shirt.



The bell rang and school started. We begrudgingly made our way to class, not caring about the fact that we would be late. If the damn teacher knew what was good for him, he’ll let it slide for today. And I swear, if I see one person in that class stare at me as I walk in that door, I’ll bash them over the head with my books until I feel satisfied, which might take awhile.



Before the last class of the day, I was intercepted by Keith. I really didn’t want to talk to him right now. I just wanted to fall asleep in my next class and get in trouble for it.



“Hey man. Do you know about Anthony’s crankiness lately?” he interrogated.



“Yes, I know about Anthony’s crankiness lately,” I repeated back to him as annoying as possible.



“Yo, no reason to get bitchy with me. Do you know why? I mean,” then he lowered his voice. “Are there problems at his home or something?”



So Anthony’s friends don’t know about the situation, do they? Hmm, that will require some thought later.



“No, no problems at home. Just isn’t getting enough sleep.”



“Oh. Well, that’s good. I mean, it’s not good at all, but at least it isn’t too serious.”



The bell rang (how come that is always so convenient?) before I could reply back, so I rushed to class, found a seat, and dropped fast asleep before the teacher began her lecture.



I somehow miraculously woke up in time to leave and find Anthony before he decides to drive off without me again. I quickly threw everything I had into my bookbag and hurriedly ran through the halls towards, what I hoped was, where Anthony’s locker was. Apparently, he was doing the same thing, for we both found each other in the middle of the hall.



“What are you doing here?” he asked.



“Looking for you. I want to ride home in your car today. Do you know how irritating it is to ride on a bus filled with kids eight years younger than you?”



“Yeah, why else do you think that I had you ride it yesterday?”



“You ditched me on purpose?!”



“Fuck man, calm down. I was only kidding. Geez, I swear you want the girlfriend position too badly sometimes.” he said, while walking towards his car. I followed suit.



“Don’t forget who was the first to kiss the other,” I muttered.



Unfortunately, I think Anthony still heard me, for he spun around and looked like he was ready to lob my head off.



“Don’t ever mention that ever again!” he hissed.



He stormed off to his car. I was afraid to follow him now, but I wouldn’t make it back to the buses in time, so I hesitantly continued to follow him.



Stupidly, I asked, “Did you remember to bring the shirt with you?”



He completely ignored me, which I guess is better than being torn limb from limb, and got into his car. He didn’t say anything when I opened the passenger side door and got in, so at least I could still get a ride home. However, he started up the car and turned the radio on to full blast, so I don’t think that he wanted to talk anymore. He sped all the way to Emmy’s house; I thought that I wasn’t going to make it. I was sure that Anthony would rather run head-on into a semi and kill us both rather than drop me off safe and sound. As soon as we arrived, I quietly thanked him for the ride, to which he didn’t even so much as glance at me, and got out of the car.



I was so shaken up by all this when I entered the house. Emmy asked how my day was, to which I gave the minimum response required. Then, I went up to my room. I do this so often, that Emmy didn’t even notice any unusual expressions on my face. As I lay on my bed, I thought to myself, I REALLY hope that my shirt trick makes him fall asleep tonight. Hopefully, he’ll be better tomorrow.



Dinner was its usual. Emmy told me that her son would be stopping by early the next day. I really didn’t care at the moment. I was too busy worrying about what I said to Anthony. I can’t believe how bad he took that. But why would he start overreacting now, and not way back when, when this all started happening? Whatever. I tried not to think about it too much.



Of course, sleep was hard to come by that night. I think I’m getting better, but now I’m REALLY starting to consider that whole shrink thing. Even if it’s just so that I can finally get some much-deserved sleep.



At seven o’clock the next morning, I heard the doorbell ring. I silently cursed whoever was on the other side. I was just about ready to fall asleep again. Figuring that it must be that son of Emmy’s, I walked downstairs, in a pair of pants, mind you, and went to the door. I opened it to reveal the sad, sad face of Anthony on the other side. It looked like he had been crying for some time now.



“Why?” he asked me, before coming in to hug me, breathing heavily, trying not to cry once again.

As original creator, I own rights to these characters and this story. Any actual products in the story I do not own, and belong to whomever actually owns them. Replication of this story is prohibited. Any characters resembling real people, living or not, is coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is rated M for mature themes, so if you are not allowed (or do not wish) to see such material, then please go back now. You have been warned.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 06/03/2013 01:15 PM, Daithi said:
So was the severe beating before the nightmare a dream or did it really happen cause duh that could explain the nightmares and panic attacks. He faced him the whole time he beat him then cuddly,ed him in bed afterwards. Anyone else see the coincidence.
Firstly, thanks for all the reviews! Secondly, yeah, I made sure readers could tell that these two boys weren't exactly saints. Hopefully I didn't make it TOO obvious that Shawn is the cause of most of his own problems. Anthony's not the only one with maturity problems. But remember, they ARE still teens (well, 18, but they're still in school and act like they're 15), and teens aren't known for thinking rationally. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story!
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