Chapter Six

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A yellow sticky note sticks out of the corner of my eye.

Andy, of course. He probably left for his late night job.

Ever since our parents died, Andy has been the one whose been holding down the house, besides a little help here and there from Johnathan's family. Most days he goes straight from school to work, not coming back until later in the night. Occasionally he'll get a day off and we can spend time together, which is nice.

I haven't told him yet, but I'm also thinking of applying for a job within the next few months. Andy can't do this all by himself. It's extremely stressful and it isn't fair to him. I've brought the situation up before, but he doesn't want me to get a job. He says it will be too much stress or that I have too much on my plate. Except, thing is, I'm almost positive I can handle it.

I've never been able to do something like this before in my life.

Everyone tells me I can't, because of my problem. Everyone baby's me because of one stupid diagnosis. They treat me like I can't do anything. Sure, I can't do everything, but I'm able to do most things. Yes, it may be a little harder, but I can achieve it if I put my mind to it. I can handle a part-time job.

I don't want anything holding me back. I want to be free and able to do anything. I can, I know I can, but no one believes in me. All because of one stupid little diagnosis.

I clear my head as I pick up the note. Andy's messy handwriting is scrawled in big letters.

Dinner is in the fridge; should be home by 8. Will call if anything happens. -Andy

I glance around the kitchen; same surroundings, same house, and the same loneliness. It's always too quiet around here. Even if we have friends over, there's a lingering silence just daring to engulf us. You could drop a pin from the downstairs living room and someone upstairs is bound to hear it.

I scavenge the cupboards, the fridge, everything, making sure to create plenty of noise. I take a mental inventory on everything as I begin to write a grocery list.

1 carton of milk

5 muffins

3 cans of chicken soup

A bunch of bananas

8 frozen pizzas

I re-check the fridge and cupboards in case anything slipped my mind. I set the paper on the counter and trudge up the stairs to my room. I sprawl out across the bed and start going over my script for Alice. After opening rehearsals, we've been going up on stage to audition. When my turn came, I stood up on stage, and I froze. With all the lights hitting my face, and all those people staring at me, I was unable to do it. My voice was acting like it a clock that didn't tick; useless. My breathing turned shallow and everyone started laughing. I was humiliated.

After, Mrs. Hyler sat down next to me. I was assuming she'd waste no more time on me, that she'd kick me to the curb. Except, weird thing is, she didn't. She looked me straight in the eye, and gave me something I never expected to get. A chance. "One chance can go a long way." she says, her eyes sparkling, as if someone had spilled the stars into them.

So now, I work twice as hard on the script. The doctors precribed some anxiety pills to me, but I've never used them before. Never in my right mind would I take those, but today I did. I guess you could say I took a literal chill pill. There's no differences in the way I feel, and it's not like it's some super-human confidence booster. It isn't, and it doesn't work on me. Lovely, right?

Anyways, I guess you could say by taking them, I tricked my mind into thinking it actually is doing something helpful, which causes me to concentrate more. I've practically gotten the script memorized, with a few bugs here and there. My acting skills need a little working on, but other than that, I think it's perfect. I'm determined to pass the second audition with flying colors.

I glance at the clock; 8:56PM. What's taking Andy so long? I reach for the phone, then hesitate. What if I'm interrupting him?

He'll be home soon. If something bad was happening, he'd call. He never forgets to call.

I switch on the TV and start channel surfing. I swear, nothing is ever good on these days. Why does America usually get the bad shows?

After about 20 minutes of channel surfing, with no luck whatsoever, I call it quits. I check in for the night, and fall asleep.

-

Sleeping has always freaked me out. I get the strangest dreams in the world - whether it's something in the future or with people I've yet to meet, it causes my skin to crawl.

I hate sleeping. I hate how it feels, how
it works, and especially how I feel when I wake up. Insane headaches, unstableness, and disoriented. Basically the exact opposite from what you see in the movies. It's terrible.

Plus, let's not forget that, I have messed up dreams. Everyone gets them, but not as frequently as I do. Sometimes it's flashbacks of my past, sometimes it's my fear of being separated from Andy, and sometimes it's totally random, like being kidnapped.

Yet tonight, I have no dreams. Only the company of total darkness fills my mind. It soothes me as I fall into a peaceful state of mind, allowing the wind outside to lull myself to sleep.

Later into the night, a bolt of lightning lights up the night sky and a crack of thunder erupts in a big BANG! causing me to jolt awake in a state of shock. I check the clock; 4:30AM. Just a few hours before I have to drag myself out of bed and get ready for school.

I get out of bed slowly, and walk around the house for a little while. I stop at Andy's door, and quietly knock. No response. As I'm about to open the door, a hand clamps around my mouth.

A familiar rugged voice whispers, "Don't scream or else."

I start shaking and thrashing; this can't be happening. This can't be happening.

I bite down as hard as I can on the hand that's grasping my mouth. Someone's knee drives into my side, and I let out a strangled cry. I grasp and claw at the person behind me, then I back up and slam them against a wall. Their grip loosens and I break free. I switch on the lights, and when I see the face, I recognize it immediately.

It's the boy from the other day; the boy with the books.

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