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Broken Handle
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Summary: He thought he had a handle on everything going on in his life. He thought he could do it all alone. Even now, staring at the broken handle in his shaking hands, when he knows he can't, he still thinks he can.
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'Thud.'
'SLAM!'
The sweet silence subduing sound of a foot kicking a door and having it slam closed in your brother's face. My foot. My door. My brother. But I just couldn't take it anymore. Childish this may be but I am done with his constant annoyance. I'm done with everyone's constant annoyance! I'm one person; one…one kid! I can't do it all anymore! I can't take Joe's pounding on my door as I know if I open it I will just be faced with the stupid questions and the teasing and I can't take that right now!
"Come on Nick, it was a joke!" Joe shouted through the thin layer of wood protecting him from the anger that bubbled in heart. Yeah, exploding pudding; a really funny joke Joseph. I kicked my dresser and grabbed a fresh shirt, quickly changing into it as I threw the pudding stained one in the hamper. There was nothing funny about this. Nothing funny about him. Nothing funny about anything! I can't even get a freaking break around here!
I woke up two days ago and Kevin is bitching about some fight between him and his girlfriend, saying that if we hadn't left so damn early the night before then he would have avoided this. Well sorry for thinking it wasn't safe for us or fans to stay overnight in that last area Kevin! Frankie woke up with a cold and kept everyone up on the tour bus with his constant sniveling and coughing. I can't blame him that much but he should have let mom take care of him instead of letting us all suffer from his illness! Mom and dad…ever since I got diagnosed with this fucking disease a few months ago, they've been all over me. I can't even go to the bathroom without one of them sending someone to follow me so I don't collapse. I. Am. Not. Helpless! Just because I have this affliction doesn't mean I can't take care of myself! It doesn't make me a cripple like they so obviously think I am!
And Joe…he has been on my last nerve for awhile now. Watching me. Following me. Trying to make me laugh by his stupid jokes when I was about ready to tear apart a phone book.
I am fed up with this. With them. With everything.
I'm done.
"Nick, come on; open the door!" Joe laughed and I kicked it hard, earning a squeak from Joe and a scuffed Converse. Great. My day just keeps getting better and fucking better. Its barley noon and I already feel like crawling back into bed and wishing the sun would go away and never come back up. Maybe then I could sleep through my life, through this irritation. Maybe then I could find peace. "Hey, no need to abuse the door!" I kicked off my shoes and turned, having walked to the opposite end of the small room in my family's cottage before chucking the black high-top with all of might at the door. A shoe print was left on the dark wood, sticking out like a ghost against the night but the message was clear. Joe's pounding stopped and his voice vanished, leaving me in ringing silence.
But I didn't find my peace.
Joe came back and this time with reinforcements. I sighed and laced up my shoes, knowing I would have to time this just right. I stood and jumped a few times, shaking out my hands and getting ready for the signal. I heard Kevin lowly as Joe something and Joe's answer was something about my shoe hitting the door. I heard the key insert into the lock and I heard Kevin sigh. The golden door-knob jiggle as the lock came undone with an even 'click' and the door knob turned.
The second the door was open three inches, I bolted, throwing it open and knocking the two off balance as I took off running. They were too stunned by my actions to collect themselves in time to follow me. Thank you fans for forcing me to become a decent distance runner.
I had to get away. I had to find my peace. I had to find my handle on my emotions. I had to before I faced them again. They annoyed me so much but I didn't want to blow up in their faces or to hurt them. They were better off thinking everything was just fine and dandy with their cripple of a brother. Maybe then they would stop shadowing me, waiting for me to slip up and fall to rock bottom with this new attachment to my life. Maybe once I proved I was fine alone, I would actually get to be alone.
I turned off the long dirt drive way before I reached the "Leading from the Middle of Nowhere" road and disappeared in the heavy trees. This was a perfect retreat from fans, from fame, from everything. But we didn't need to be here. They thought I would be better here; happier now that I could find 'peace.' But what was peaceful about spending a week with the people who thought I couldn't take care of myself? What was peaceful about their constant bitching?
I am not five.
I am not a newbie with diabetes anymore.
I can take care of myself.
"NICK!"
And so starts another headache.
"WHERE ARE YOU?" Joe and Kevin both called and I sighed; yeah, like I was actually going to answer. Just leave me alone guys. I'll talk to you when my hands stop shaking and when my heart slows down-I don't want my words to be controlled by anger but if I talk to them now or soon, I don't think I will be able to stop the spill of poison.
I sighed, attempting to try and tame the irritation that clawed at the cage known as my heart. I slowed down to a stop and leaned against a tree trunk, pressing my back to the cold rough bark but not being bothered to move as some of it poked and scrape my back through my white tee-shirt. It actually kind of felt good-my back was itching like mad but I was not barbaric enough to use this trunk as a back scratcher so I bared it.
"Nick?" Kevin called but I wasn't worried about them finding me. There was a path that I normally would take when upset and they would be following that dirt and leave covered trail. This time I had strayed from the normal and decided to just go wherever, confident in the knowledge that the house would never be too far away.
Ah crap…I have to pee. Badly too.
I stood, not feeling like using a tree or my pants as a bathroom and jogged back to the house, careful to avoid Joe and Kevin. I dodged the numerous trees emerald covered branches and my feet found the hardened dirt of the cottage like house's drive way. I ran up it and kicked off my shoes, walking as quickly as I could towards the bathroom. Just as my hand gripped the golden knob to close the door behind me, my vision seemed to swim, colors mixing together. It was a like a film of crumpled plastic wrap was obscuring my vision. I pulled the door closes, blinking furiously and trying to figure out why this was happening and how I would go pee when I can't aim.
I bit my tongue, gripping tightly onto the counter and I pressed my eyes closed and counted to ten before opening them. Crystal vision. That was...odd. I spotted my Meter on the bathroom counter and sighed angrily, relieving myself quickly after I figured out what was going on .
Stupid disease. Why me? Why was my life chosen to be ruined? Just when I started living my dream, it all was brought tumbling down. Am I cursed? Is that it? Did someone curse me so I could never be happy? So I would always be plagued with the knowledge that this disease can best me at any moment and can turn my crumbling dreams to dust? What I do to deserve this burden? Why me?
I stomped into my room and closed the door, still hearing my two idiotic brothers yelling my name outside. I didn't spare the partly opened window a glance as Joe screamed and the sound of skidding leaves reached my ears. He deserved to trip after his 'joke' this morning. I did not want to be woken up by pudding blowing up in my face. I threw myself down on the ocean blue covered bed and readied the meter.
I bit my lip and concentrated as I my left middle finger and quickly wiped the blood on the test strip before waiting. I knew I was high-I wasn't stupid enough to not notice it like everyone around me thought I was. They didn't seem to think that I would be able to recognize the feeling of being too high or too low but they obviously didn't know me. They didn't know what it felt like. They didn't know that a blind person could better see the signs then they could. I live with this everyday-I know what being off feels like.
My blue meter beeped and I shook my head at the number as I read it was just under 200. I reached over onto my bedside table and grabbed my kit, pulling it over onto my legs. I sat up and pulled out the insulin vial, shuddering as I also pulled out a sterilized needle and syringe. I hated the next part. I checked my meter again and quickly did the math, stabbing the insulin bottle cork top with the needle and tipping the bottle to a 60 degree angle before I measured out the liquid. I was quick to put everything away and pull up my shirt. I swallowed, suddenly nervous as I pinched the bit of skin and hovered the needle point over it. I hated this part.
My mouth went dry and I bit my tongue again, knowing that I can't let this progress. So I stabbed myself with the needle, still not entirely used to the burning of the insulin as I pushed it into my body or to the slight burning it left after the needle was long gone. I pressed a bit of tissue that was in a pack in the kit to both my finger and the small hole in my stomach as I disposed of the needle with my other hand.
I lay back against the pillow again, focusing on my breathing and keeping myself calm. It would take a few minutes for my insulin to work fully but I should start feeling its effects in a minute. I clutched my meter in my hand and rested said hand on top of my stomach and closed my eyes. I should have seen this coming sooner-all the stress from constantly being dogged finally caught up with me. I am just lucky I caught it this early. Hyperglycemia is not fun. I suffered through it unknowingly for two weeks and I don't want to have to go through an episode like that again. I never want to be that angry, that confused, and that scared again. I had always been angry for no reason-I just couldn't let go of my stress and it exploded onto everyone else. I didn't know what was going on with me and half the time I didn't know what was going on around me. For the last part of it, I honestly thought something was wrong with my brain, I thought that I was going to die. And I don't want to go through anything like that again. My chest was constricting as I thought more about it and I didn't notice the goose-bumps forming on my arms as I recalled the amount of terror I hid from everyone.
I allowed my head to fall on my right shoulder as my dry mouth went away and the ever-constant urge to pee vanished without a wet spot. See family? I can take care of myself. I watched the seconds go by on the clock and listened to my brothers still diligently calling my name-but their voices were far-off now; they would realize I wasn't outside anymore soon.
I allowed five minutes to pass before checking my blood sugar again but even before the meter beeped I knew it was going to be off again. My hands still shook in the absence of the worst part of my anger-that I had managed to lock away-and the sudden nerves that Joe and Kevin were going to find me here were too prominent to ignore. If the found me they would instantly freak and take everything out of my hands and do it themselves. They would once again make me powerless; a victim to my own body. I can't be off. I won't let myself be off!
The meter beeped and I screamed lowly in frustration, chucking the meter at the wall. Joe and Kevin stopped their screams-which have grown closer- as they heard the thing smash and fall. I stared at the wreck, suddenly aware I was on my feet again. But I didn't care. That thing was just evidence that I couldn't control my own body; it just confirmed everything my family thought about me. If they found the number lower than what I considered 'normal' than they would freak and I never again would be able to take care of myself. I walked over to the wall and kicked the blue thing, happy to find the wall had broken the back part that covered the battery. But it wasn't enough. The number was still legible. I won't let them find out-I can't take being helpless anymore.
My foot came down on the poor little marvel of a machine and the screen cracked, a thin line coming right down the center as my socked heel slammed down on it with enough force to break a bone. There. Now they will never know. See? I can take care of myself.
I turned and kicked the broken contents under my bed, knowing that if anyone found out, they would pull out the backup and force it on me. They would call me stupid, careless, reckless. But they don't believe in me. I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself.
I sat back on the bed, trying to lock up the fiery anger thundering in my ears and the anxiety of being found out. They needed to learn. I can do this. Alone. They need to know that. I need to show them. I put my hand to my heart, trying to slow its irregularly fast pounding with deep and slowing breaths, but it didn't work. I thumped my fist on my bed, hating how the sound was muffled by the mattress and light blue sheets. I roughly pulled over my kit and it took all of my self control not to break the zipper as I pulled out another tissue and pressed it to my finger. Next I pulled open the dresser draw, almost pulling it out of its home as I did so. I pulled out a fruit bar and angrily tore it open. I hated how everything I did and ate had to be monitored. How everything little thing had to control my life.
As I chewed, a horrible thought came into my head-one I've been trying o avoid facing ever since I first started having these symptoms. And I pushed it right back again. Thinking of my brothers, the band, my dream, will not help anything right now.
"Nick?" I quickly finished the rest of the bar-which probably a bad idea-as I heard a tentative knock on my door and Kevin's voice. I shoved the wrapper under my pillow and hid my kit in the same place. I didn't answer but I knew they knew I was in here.
"Nick we know you're in there." Joe said and I sighed, nodding my head, growling a little as I heard his concern.
"Never said I wasn't." I grumbled, laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling before grabbing the hacky sack next to my head and throwing it in the air with my right hand ad catching it with my left.
"Can we come in?" I shrugged at Kevin's question, knowing full well that he couldn't see my reaction.
"Sure." Keep it together Nicholas. No slip of the tongue or else they will start worrying again. I heard them enter the small room and both of them stopped, just watching me throw the ball and catch it. I acted as though I was bored and irritated at Joe still, which I was but he didn't need to know that the pudding incident wasn't the only thing. "What's up?" Too cold. Keep it together Nick.
They both walked forward and sat at the end of my bed, me not looking but feeling my feet sink down as their weight made the mattress groan. I threw the ball again but Joe's hand snatched it from the air. I sat up and glared at him before hiding my pillow from view by sitting in front of it.
Kevin looked at Joe before looking back to me, his mouth opening. "What's wrong Nick?"
I sighed, hoping to keep the malice out of my eyes as I heard that question. "Nothing. Just mad."
Joe's shoulders slumped and he put his hand on my knee, his eyes shining with apology."I'm sorry Nick; I thought it would be funny."
"Well you thought wrong." I growled, letting my anger out to emphasize the point that I really didn't want to talk to them right now. But they didn't let up.
"Something else is bugging you." Kevin's words were less like a question and more like a statement. Well thank you Captain Obvious for that amazingly in-your-face guess. "You can talk to us you know. About anything." He added as if he thought I didn't know. And I did know. All too well as they said it every single time noticed something was 'off' about me. Well I am sorry I can't be the same as I was before! I'm sorry I'm not the same person everyday! I'm sorry for everything I can't control!
I felt my nails dig into my palm as my fingers clenched into fists; I was trying to channel my anger without using words or violence. I don't need them to worry about me. I never needed that. I have a handle on my own life-I don't need to be worried about. I pushed Joe's hand off my knee and went to stand but his hand wrapped around my forearm.
"Did you check your levels?" His grip slackened when he felt me stiffen.
I slowly turned my head back to him, trying to keep a handle on my rising anger levels but I was already so close to exploding that it was impossible to keep it from my eyes and form my voice. "I am can take of myself." I whispered harshly and Joe looked nervously to Kevin.
"I never said you couldn't." Joe told me, uncertainty riding heavily on his concerned tone.
"But it was implied." I retaliated, forcing my arm out of his grip and I stood, crossing my arms at my chest and full out glaring at them. They slowly stood too, confusion and shock written all over their almost comical faces. Too wide of eyes that seemed to expand with each blink as worry and confusion both wrestled to be the one to be expressed. Mouths slightly agape as their brains tried to process why I was acting this way. Fingers twitching as they both reached out towards me and pulled away, as if in terror of lighting my short fuse. Both other than that; nothing.
"You don't know how to answer that, do you?" I mocked coldly, watching them exchange a glance at clearly said "What the heck?"
"We were only trying to help…" Kevin told me, his tone harder than what he had meant it to be as his mouth slammed closed but I got the message. And I hoped he got mine.
"I don't need your help." I growled, taking away from them. "I am sick of you trying to help me like I am some weak, helpless creature you found dying on the side of the road."
"Nick we never thou-"
"You never thought that?" My head snapped up to glare at Joe and he actually flinched from the pure rawness of my fury. "You never thought?" Joe shook his head, holding up his hands in a 'calm down' gesture.
"Nick…too much stress is bad for your levels. Ca-"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" I yelled, hearing voices call our names from the other rooms in the little house. "And don't tell me what's good or bad for me." I hissed, my voice lowering, proving to them that I didn't need volume in my voice to be intimidating. "Only I know that. Me. Not you." Joe stared dumbly at me, shock making his eyes looked like a void mirror. In them I saw me as they did, mad; ready to snap at any moment.
And I didn't care.
"We care about you Nick, that's why we help."
I rounded on Kevin, him actually taking a step back. "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" Footsteps came padding towards my room but I barely heard them. "I never did! This is my body, my issues and I can control them. I can handle it."
"What's this about?" We all turned, jumping slightly as Dad, Mom and Frankie peeked in the door way. Dad looked to me, his eyes telling me to tell him now and not beat around the bush.
I sighed and shook my head. "Nothing; just let my anger get the best of me." I turned to my brothers, hoping to avoid more of a scene by lying through my teeth. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."
Joe and Kevin's eyebrows both furrowed and they both shook their heads. "No; we want to hear this." Kevin whispered, his eyes narrowing as he tried to study me. I brought my hand to my head and ran it through my curls, trying to distract myself from the stabbing pains shooting through my head.
"Well I don't want to say more." I told them with forced confidence but Kevin smirked, obviously hearing the restraint.
"Yeah, I think you do." He replied his smirk showing his motives. Goading me will not work Kevin. I know your game. I took a deep but unnoticed and silent breath, holding it and letting my anger cool from boiling point to a simmer as it dropped back into the confines of my chest. Yes I hated their actions but if I bent to their will and told them everything their view of me would only become worse. I must be strong.
"No. I don't." I evenly told him, letting go of my glare and Kevin blinked, surprised that this fish was smarter than the fisherman and did not take his bait. "Mom, we have how long until we need to et on the bus again?" This was basically our hotel for the passed two days and we had a show again tomorrow in a different but close by city.
"Half an hour. Nick's right boys-we can continue this when we are all packed away. And Joe, your underwear belongs either in the hamper or a bag, not on the couch." Mom smiled as Joe reddened. I felt her eyes studying me as I turned my back and pulled my bag over from next to the light wooden dresser. I did not look over at her. If I looked, she would see and f she saw we would never get on that bus. I only looked when the slight creak of the floor reached my ears and I sighed, almost relived, to see an empty doorway.
"Nick, talk to us."
"You heard Mom." I cut over Joe and tossed the almost filled bag onto my bed. "Go pack your underwear Joe." He sighed but I heard the laughter in his exhale as he padded out of the room. Kevin ruffled his hand in Frankie's hair before giving me a stern "We will talk" look and he left. Frankie walked over to me and I knelt down so I was eye level with him.
"I put Joe's underwear there." He laughed and slapped me a high-five before running off. I missed the innocent glee of being a child. But now I was cursed wit this responsibility that forced me to grow faster than I would have wanted. I was fourteen and everything was different. My whole life was changed. I would go even as far to say that my life is ended. I am dead at fourteen.
I shook my head and reached under my bed, groping for the broken meter and I dumped it in the trash, hiding it among the other various items before I tied the plastic-bag shut. I threw my kit into the bag and zipped it up, ignoring the head ache and the fact that my mind seemed to be shutting down on me. I know I should take care of it, but I don't give a damn right now. I wasn't close to death and I stayed like this for two weeks before so I can handle an hour or two. I will not take care of it until I am alone. I don't need them barging in on me and without a meter I won't exactly know how bad it is but I am sure I can take the back up one and lie about the first.
I downed the last bit of water in the white plastic bottle by my bed before tossing in the pocket in the black travel bag's side. I threw my bag to the floor and closed my door lightly before collapsing down on my bed. I heard Joe chasing Frankie and yelling about his underwear-something about Frankie stealing it again. Thank God it was clean. Kevin was on the phone with his girl-friend again…wait now ex-girl, tanks to her. Mom and Dad were off to who knows where, doing who knows what.
I picked up a small fragment of my old meter's screen and was twirling it around my fingers when I heard voices float in from my open window; mom and dad.
"I'm worried about Nick." Mom whispered and I closed my eyes, folding my fingers carefully over the sharp glass-like substance. "It's not like he to explode like that."
"We can talk to him about it later Denise." Dad told her, trying to be comforting with his warm tone but mom had other ideas.
"I don't know Paul…we all know that when Nick doesn't want to talk, he won't. Maybe we forced too much on him too soon." My eyes shot open and I slowly sat up in the bed, listening very carefully. "Maybe putting him on the Hannah tour so soon after his diagnosis was a bad thing. It may be too much for him." No…no no no no.
I heard Dad sigh and I slipped off the bed and crawled so the window was right above my head. "Nick would tell us. And he loves this. It isn't too much for him."
"No Paul. Nick wouldn't tell us. He would leave us to guessing so he can do what he loves without worrying us. We've watched him carefully and we've noticed his stress. This is too much, too soon, for him to handle." Mom argued, me not noticing the tiny shard digging into my skin but not bringing pain. Please mom, please don't do this.
"Denise, honey, Nick is a responsible kid. He can handle it and he is. It's been months since we first found out that he had Type One and he knows enough to take care of himself and like you said: he has us." Dad tried again and I was silently rooting for him.
"Paul, Kevin…" I stiffened as Mom used Dad's middle name-that was something she only did when she was serious. "I know my son and I know you do too but I don't like seeing him this quiet and this stressed. I am pulling the plug on this tour." What? No!
"We will talk to the boys about this later Denise. Until we get Nick's say on this then nothing happens." Mon must have been about to protest as Dad quickly spoke again."Yes Nick may lie to us but we have to respect him enough to get his opinion."
I slowly closed my window and drew the curtain, slinking back to the bed in total darkness. I curled up on the bed, facing the empty and shadow infested room; the only light coming from the tiny crack under the door and where the curtain ended.
This was what haunted me every second, what thought I wished to eternally hide, what outcome I never wanted to see on my doorstep. If this happened, I truly would be dead at fourteen. I loved this; touring, music, spending time and working with my brothers. Yes it was stressful but I would never trade it. And now they were going to take any the one thing that made me unique; music. They were going to take it all away from me. Everything I did when I was younger, everything I worked to become…gone.
A tear slipped down my cheek, catching me by surprise. But then I remembered another thing that often went hand-in-hand (but was not a symptom) with Hyperglycemia-emotional distress. Until I fixed this, I would be a wreck. But…sometimes everyone needs to cry. Everything I had wanted was in my hands and now it just fell away like sand falling through my fingers until only a few grains of memories remained. I was losing everything…they were taking everything.
A sharp sting had me opening y palm with a gasp. I stared at the little glass piece and at the scratch on my hand. I sat up, using the minimal light to just stare at the see-through little object as hate exploded from my heart and my fingers instantly shook.
"This is your fault." I whispered to the piece, squeezing it tightly between my fingers. "I would be happy without you. But no, you just had to ruin my life, didn't you?" I hissed, aware that I looked insane as I spoke to the inanimate object but I did not care."Well thanks for taking away my dreams. Filthy piece of shit." I hurled the glass at the far wall, not seeing it hit but I hard the impact, surprised when the small piece did not shatter. Even without breaking, the act felt good though it accomplished nothing. I stared at my hand, thinking and whispered every curse I knew to this disease but as good it was it felt to feel the words of poison roll of my tongue, it did nothing to solve my problem.
But I wasn't going to them for help. I can solve this on my own. I can handle it.
"Boys! The bus is here." Mom called and I shook my head, walking over the glass shard and throwing it out the window after I opened it. I slammed it shut, locked it, took my bag and walked out of the small white room into the narrow tan hall. I didn't meet anyone as I walked out to the bus, which was running the in long driveway. I climbed on it without glancing to my parents and I dropped my stuff in my bunk before stealing into the bathroom and taking the extra meter and hiding it in my bag. As much as I hated to admit it; I would need it.
"Nick, in here please." I slunk back into the enclosed area with a couch and little floor space, leaning against the wall as Dad shut the door and the bus pulled off. I was so used to this that I didn't stumble back as the bus suddenly lurched forward. "We need to talk Nick." I looked to mom and Joe and Kevin sat on the couch on either side of her, exchanging confused glances.
"Your mother thinks this tour is too much too soon. We want your opinion." Dad kindly told me, trying to lighten the hidden meaning of the words that I already knew.
"It's not." That much was honest. Now the people on this tour, like my family for instance, were the cause of my stress.
"Nick, its ok if it is." Mom cooed, reaching over the small space and grabbing my hand. I pulled it away from her. "No one will be mad at you sweetie.
"What-drop the tour?" Joe suddenly asked, looking very alarmed by the news. Mom nodded to me while squeezing Joe's knee tightly in warning.
"It's not." I firmly told her and she shook her head, not believing me.
"Nick, you are still new to your diabetes…as a mother I don't think this is best idea anymore."
I felt my eyes widen and Frankie slipped off into the bunk-bed area, closing the sliding door behind him. "I've lived with it for months now; I'm not new to it. And how would you know what is best for me now? You've never gone through anything like this!" She doesn't know what is best for me. She can't take away my life, my dream. I won't let her.
"I know you though Nick. I know when you are upset or if you levels are off. Like now for example."
"Am I upset or are my levels off?" I taunted, the words ripping from my lips before I even thought them. Mom blinked in surprise and Kevin instantly shot me a glare.
"Nick!" He yelled and I turned to him, arms crossed and standing tall, which admittedly wasn't very tall at all but the gesture of it meant more than words.
"Kevin!" I repeated, using the same tone and the same facial expression. Kevin looked at Joe, his eyes widening. Joe just shook his head, not understanding anymore than anyone else on this bus. Mom held up her hand but Dad took over.
"You are both Nicholas but that does not give you the right for this attitude. Now calm down and let us help you." My fingers balled into fists and everyone's eyes were drawn to their small movement. The cage that held in my anger shattered like a mirror and everything came rushing, overpowering everything; self control, withheld secrets, everything was gone.
"I don't' want your help! I don't need it!" I yelled, throwing my hands in the air. "Everyone always thinks I am helpless by myself! But guess what?" I roared and Mom paled, looking at me like I was foaming at the mouth. "I AM NOT WEAK! I AM NOT HELPLESS! I can do this alone."
"So that's what this is about?" Kevin asked, looking at me and I shook my head, jabbing my finger into his chest without moving me feet.
"Hardly." I growled. "But you don't want to hear the hopeless diseases boy talk now do you?" I sneered and everyone's eyes widened as they heard what I called myself. But that was one thing everyone had thought about saying to me. I knew it; I could see it in there eyes when they looked at me. Their pity…it was sickening.
"Or maybe you do!" I answered myself after a minute of this staring. "Maybe you want to hear everything! Maybe you'll enjoy y story almost as much as I enjoyed living it!" No one spoke up. No one moved. They all seemed to be immobilized by fear. By shock. By realization. "Ever since I got this fucking disease," Dad stared when I swore but I kept going like nothing had happened. "I've been followed by everyone. I've been treated like a five year old! It's like I don't even control my life anymore!"
I paused and looked down to my hand, my anger flaring again but it was towards a very different source. "And I don't!" I whispered, everyone leaning forward by my sudden change. "I am controlled…not by myself anymore. But by this curse and by you." I lifted my gaze and glared into theirs, trying to focus my blurring vision but I could not. And this was with the absence of tears too. But I can hold out.
I can do this. Alone. I can handle it.
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JOE'S POV
I stood when Nick turned his glare to us, noting how his eyes seemed unfocused than before and something snapped into place. I grabbed his arm but Nick pushed me off, my losing my balance as the bus stopped and falling on my face. Granted that wasn't exactly a new thing for me, but it still hurt. I sat up, rubbing my nose and evenly meeting Nick's glare.
"Nick, you wouldn't be saying this if your levels were normal." I tired to tell him but he scoffed.
"No I would just be hiding it from everyone like the good little cripple I am." He retorted, rendering me speechless. "And to make things worse, you are now going to take away the one thing my diabetes hasn't?" He turned back to Mom who clutched her heart but said nothing to her son's fury. "My diabetes took the normal out of my life-it took everything I took for granted and now I know what I lost because it's gone! And now you…now you are taking away everything else!"
"What are we taking Nick?" Dad frantically whispered, trying to get information but at the same time, trying not to provoke my younger sibling any further. He failed.
Nick spun to face him, his eyes exploding with volcano's of animosity. "MY DREAMS! MY MUSIC! EVERY LITTE THING I'VE WORKED TO GET SINCE I WAS YOUNG!" Nick full out screamed, his voice cracking once as his voice went shrill but it was not a laughable moment. "YOU ARE LEAVING ME WITH NOTHING! NO DREAM, NO MUSIC, NO NORMALILTY, NO HOPE OF THE FUTRURE I WANTED!" Nick would have gone on but he jumped harshly when Frankie sneaked out of the bed-room and poked Nick's finger with his meter. Even Frankie had been taught to do this kind of thing and I was never gladder he had been. Nick just stared at our youngest brother, as if he didn't believe that he was here.
"Is 231 too high?" Frankie asked the silent room after a minute and everyone stood up, panic in their eyes as we starred incredulous at Nick.
"You can handle it?" I asked, keeping my volume under control but the disappointment and disbelief in my tone was prominent.
"I can!" Nick roared, snatching the meter from Frankie's hand. The kid ducked away, hiding back in the room but I had the feeling he would be back. "I don't need you!" Nick whispered, his eyes filling with tears and we all paused, not expecting this reaction. "I can do this! Alone! You can't take anything from me!" His anger still boiled the tears in his words as well as the ones that spilled unnoticed by him down his cheeks. "I'm strong enough! I can handle it!"
"Nick, please let us help you." Mom begged as Kevin hugged her and sat her back down on the couch. "Please son, we love you and care about you. Let us help."
"How can you love me if you are taking my life away from me! IF YOU ARE KILLING ME AT FOURTEEN? I HATE YOU!" Kevin and I slowly walked over to Nick, hands in the air as he looked wildly at us, his eyes flickering back and forth, trying to focus on our faces.
"You can't do this alone." Kevin whispered as Dad walked around us and comforted a very disturbed mom. "And you're life isn't ending now Nick. We won't stop the tour and we won't stop our shared future, our shared dreams." Nick's head dropped and his shoulder shook with sobs but he didn't reach out to us for comfort.
"You need us Nick, just like we need you. Some things are meant to be done alone but this isn't one of them." I told him, hugging him tightly and Kevin hugged his other side. Nick struggled against us but as we towered over him still, he couldn't escape. I wonder if one day he could escape. What would we do then? "We do love you Nick. We are only doing this for you."
"We are scared for you sweetie. We want you to be happy…and if touring does that then we won't take it from you." Mom gently told him through her own tears, which fall on the tan leather couch ad onto Dad's plaid shirt.
"You're right though Nick…we have been annoyingly watchful and we are sorry son. But do you understand why?" Nick nodded jerkily to dad's question but his form was still tense, still ready to bolt as soon as Kevin and I let him go. It hurt my heart to see him like this; so angry, so vulnerable. Nick's knees buckled and all three of us sat on the ground, never letting him go.
"Pl…please help me." Nick choked out, as if the words were stuck in his throat. I watched Frankie walk back into the room, Nick's kit in his hands. I took the meter out of Nick's open palm and looked at the number again. Nick…why did you do this to yourself? Kevin readied the insulin shot and looked to Nick.
"Where?"
"Doesn't matter." Came Nick's disconnected reply. Kevin nodded and lifted up Nick's shirt, pinching skin before biting his tongue and quickly administering the shot. He looked disgusted with himself as he saw and felt Nick wince and bury his face into Kevin's shoulder as he pushed the needed insulin into our little brother. I was quick to press a tissue that mom handed me to the small puncture wound, knowing Kevin already hated himself for hurting Nick-even if it helped him more than hurt.
"I-I'm sorry." Nick whispered after a moment, his words muffled by Kevin's black shirt and blue scarf but understood. Nick peeled himself away from Kevin and I and sat between us, looking ashamed and hurt.
"Nick…" He looked up and was instantly in mom's arms as she opened them. She lovingly ran her fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. "It's ok…"
"Did you mean all that Nick?" Frankie quietly asked Nick looked away from all of us by ducking his head under mom's arms.
Dad walked over and knelt in the minimal space in front of Nick and took on of his hands. "Son…" He sighed and shook his head. "Tell us next time, before it evolves into something we all can't control. We want to help you Nick…but on your terms." Nick nodded, wiping his face hastily and allowing Dad to check his level's again.
"A bit low."Nick groaned and let his head fall again. We all knew by that reaction that he was also having difficulty with regulating his levels today. "But it's better than before. A little juice should sort it out." But no one moved.
"I'm sorry." Nick muttered again and we all smiled at him.
"Everyone has a break down now and then Nick." Kevin smiled, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "Remember Joe's last week? The one over his haircut?" I ran m fingers through my shorter hair, reddening at my diva moment and Nick smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Mine was worse." He whispered and I shook my head but I allowed mom to take this one.
"And that's fine Nick. You are so strong and responsible and dedicated and driven and we love you dearly, harsh words or not." She comforted, smiling when Nick relaxed against her side, still in her arms.
"I love you too…I could never hate you. I'm sorry."
"Will you stop apologizing?" I smiled and stood, ruffling Nick's curls and earning the usual glare. "You're forgiven Nick. Just promise me something?" I waited for him to nod before continuing. "Talk to us next time?" His eyes softened and he nodded, still looking ashamed but he would for the rest of the day. Nick was never one to let his emotions take him over like that and whenever it happened, he hated himself for it.
"It's ok Nick. Let's get you some juice and then we can watch a movie or something. Ok?" Nick nodded to Kevin and he walked off, Frankie quick to turn on the awesome television we had in here and selected a Disney movie as it was his turn to pick. He put it in and pressed play just as Kevin walked back in from the driver's compartment with a juice box in hand-thanks to the little fridge we had up there. "Drink it all and you should feel better." Kevin suggested and Nick nodded, taking it silently and drinking the orange juice-box quickly. Kevin took it back and threw it out.
Dad sat on the couch next to mom and Frankie slid onto Nick's lap. Kevin and I sat on the floor, leaning, him leaning against the arm rest and me Nick's legs. He didn't seem to mind though. He said he had a handle on it, but he didn't, not on is own, not with the weight of that on his conscience. His handle had been broken in two and he hadn't wanted to admit it. But now, he knows the truth. And the truth is the best Super Glue in the world.
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Chibiyu: Is 14 pages and 7,800 words long enough? Hoped you liked it. May have been a tad cliche but this was a prompt someone on another site (JonasFic on Hyperboards) wanted anyone to write and I liked the idea of it so I wrote it out. What did you think? Until Next Story Update!