Nowhere To Go

Chapter Eighteen

Nick watched the world go blurry as he fell, as he felt Russell let go of him. There was a lot of commotion....voices in all directions. Panicked shouts.... Hands grabbing him...sirens. More gunshots. So much noise that was slowly becoming muffled. He couldn't figure out what was happening. He was frightened. All he saw was darkness, he couldn't hear anything.

Was he dying?

As he slipped in and out of consciousness, flashes of memories came and went. His head was spinning and he wanted to throw up. There was pain too, so much pain. He was tired and everything hurt. So much pain he didn't know where it was coming from. All he wanted was for it to stop. It felt suddenly like he was falling, until he finally came to a stop and his body slammed into something.

"Nick..."

"Nick..."

His eyes finally opened and he was on the tour bus being shaken awake by Kevin. He didn't know what year it was but he was considerably thinner. Kevin looked younger. He felt angry but couldn't remember why. His head throbbed.

"Hey, you didn't come to dinner. Are you okay? You don't look so good. You're not sick, are you?" Kevin asked, feeling his forehead.

"Fuck off, I'm fine. I don't need help." he growled, pushing him away. He didn't want to say this but it was like he couldn't control anything he was saying or doing. He wanted to apologize, but he said nothing.

Kevin made a face and rolled his eyes.

"You know what, forget it."

Nick wanted to tell him he didn't mean it...beg him to come back, but he couldn't. He didn't know how. It was as if he wasn't in control of anything. He realized then that he was reliving moments of his life. Moments he didn't even remember because he'd pushed them out of his mind as he consumed himself.

The bus faded away and this time he was in his bunk again on yet another tour bus, not knowing when or where. It didn't seem that much time had passed since the scene before. He peered out of the curtain of his bunk, pushing an empty alcohol bottle out of the way as he moved to get up. A few more bottles lay at the foot of his bunk. He heard someone talking and got up, stumbling slightly as he went to find where the sound was coming from. Hushed voices were speaking towards the front of the bus.

"I'm worried about him. He won't talk to anyone.. "

They were talking about him again, most likely. It was Brian's voice. He instantly felt angry and didn't know why. Why was he so angry? It was obvious that someone cared. Why didn't he see this before? He wanted to tell them what was wrong, but couldn't. He couldn't control anything he was doing.

"Was I really this rotten to them?" he wondered as he helplessly watched himself yell at Brian and Howie, accusing them of talking about him behind his back. Watched helplessly as he drank himself numb and pushed everyone away. Watched while his friends worried about him.

It was his turn to worry. He wanted it to stop. A voice started talking, he didn't know or care to know who.

"It will all be better once you're dead. You're almost there."