Trips in the Dark

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Your son has been diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome. It's not really all that bad, but there is a direct line between it and autism. There isn't much we can really do for him. There aren't any medications specifically for Asperger's, but there are medications that can help with the symptoms, which are restricted and repetitive interests and behaviors, lack of social empathy-which may cause selective mutism; where he would only talk to certain people-, and a use of formal language-causing a lack of understanding of figurative speech. Children with AS are much more likely to have sleeping issues, such as having difficulty falling asleep, frequent nocturnal awakenings, and early morning awakenings. He will also have trouble with emotions. On the other hand, your son should have excellent hearing and seeing perception," Their doctor said, never once looking up. The child playing with blocks on the floor squirmed. He was uncomfortable with all the grown-ups around.

"How will this affect his daily life, and how can we help?" His father asked, bearing a stern look. The doctor cleared his throat before continuing.

"As I previously said, there are no specific medications. One I highly recommend is Sertraline. It's used to treat obsessive-compulsive-like behavior, social anxiety, and panic. It does increase risk for suicide, and if the medication is suddenly no longer being given, then there will be withdrawal. This includes irritability, agitation, dizziness, headache, nervousness, crying, emotional lability, bad dreams and anger. There is therapy for social skills, social communication intervention, physical therapy, and cognitive behavioral therapy. I would look into all of these and choose which ones are right for your son. Support from you two can help greatly," he finished, and walked away after filling out a prescription. The mother sighed, picking up her son. The man put a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's just go get the meds and see if they help," he stated, making his way to his car. He seemed angry. She sighed again.

"Oh, Nate, what are we going to do with you?"

Nate had been on the medication for about four months. They were helping some, but not enough for his father's likings. He hated his son for what he was. He was even an albino! His father, Rick, would stomp around his house, and start fights with Tricia, Nate's mom. Every time they fought, Nate would lose himself in a puzzle, trying to escape the reality of his home. But one day, his father really had had enough.

"I'm sick of this kid! He costs too much money, and he barely does a thing! He's worthless! I want him out when I get back! If he's not, I'll kill him myself!" He shouted, slamming the garage door. Nate walked over to his crying mother. He didn't like to see his mama cry. He didn't like to see his Father yell. Well, in actuality, he didn't like his father at all. He made too much noise and was angry too much.

"Mama? Are you okay?" He asked, laying a hand on her back. They stayed there for a couple of minutes before Tricia shook her head. She looked at Nate, her expression sad.

"Would you like to go for a ride?"

Twenty minutes later, Nate was clean, and had a packed backpack on his back. His mother put him in her car, and they drove. They drove until Nate fell asleep, and longer. Roughly two hours later, his mama stopped, unbuckling him, and setting him on the ground. She gave him a piece of paper. Nate squinted at the writing, but was unable to read it due to the fact that it was in cursive. Cursive was hard to read.

"Ring the doorbell, and when someone answers, give them that paper, okay?" Tricia ordered softly. Nate didn't notice the tears in her eyes, or the way she hugged him a bit too tight. He also didn't notice her getting back into the car, all windows up and doors locked. Nate walked to the door, rang the doorbell, and when become aware of the fact that his mother was gone, tears began to prick his eyes. And that's when an old man opened the door.

"Why hello there. Who are you?" He asked, smiling kindly. Trusting his mother (Unknowingly for the last time of his life), he handed over the paper, and the man read it over. His eyes crinkled as his smile widened. Nate stared up at him head tilted to the right with an adorably confused expression on his faced. The old man looked him over, and Nate fidgeted under his gaze. He stepped aside.

"Why don't you come in?" The place was filled with kids. Nate looked down as he stepped inside, and refused to look back up. The other children were too loud; the laughter and screams being too loud for his liking. Of course, many things were too loud for his liking. Peace and quiet sounded nice right about then. The man led him to an office-like room where he pulled out some papers and a pencil.

"Would you be so kind as to fill out your name and take this test?" Nate twirled a lock of his hair, pulling the test over to himself. He looked over the test, put down his name, and began. The man smiled.

A short amount of time later, Nate was done. The man put the test in a machine. After waiting for five minutes-Why did it take so long, Nate wondered- the machine beeped, and the test came out. After looking it over, the man smiled again.

"My name is Roger. Welcome to your new home."

They even gave him a new name. He picked it out, but they made him pick one. He didn't want a new name, but he chose Near anyway. He got his own room. The door had an "N" on it. He had a closet, dresser, bed, TV, computer, everything. But Nate wanted his mom back. He wanted to be called Nate. He wanted what he couldn't have. And that realization made him sad.

A few kids came by to see him on the first day, but he never really said anything. His selective mutism was setting in. After that, only a red head would visit him, playing video games all the while. Near would just put together a puzzle. He learned his name was Matt, but after that, they didn't talk. They would sit in a comfortable silence, each doing their own thing for an hour before Matt left. On his third day, Nate left his room with Matt.

The stares were the worst. They would stare at him with judging eyes, whispering rumors they'd heard from their friends. Nate grabbed on to the back of Matt's vest and stuck close. He led him to a room with a blond boy, a brown haired girl, and a lot of toys.

"Matt, who is that?" The girl asked, peeking behind the redhead. Near shrunk into his back.

"This is Near. He's six, new, and quiet. He likes puzzles," Matt announced, prying Nate off of his back and putting him in front. He just looked down. Suddenly, a girl's face appeared in his sight. He jerked back in alarm, sending Matt to the ground, who dragged him along for the ride. The girl burst into laughter, offering her hand to Nate. She was beautiful.

"I'm Eclipse. The blond's Mello, and you are adorable," she smiled. Nate finally took her hand and she pulled him up gently. She led him to the couch and sat him down. Matt grumbled, his goggles askew.

"What, no help for the redhead?" He asked jokingly.

"Of course not," Eclipse answered matter-of-factly, "I'd get pulled down myself 'cause you're mean." Nate sat quietly. These people were weird.

On his sixth day, he noticed something wrong. He's woken up from a dream of his mother being murdered at four in the morning. The time didn't bother him though. That was normal. It was the dream that was unusual. He usually didn't dream though, or, at least, he never remembered them. But that dream, it was very vivid. He was shaking, sweating, and was very dizzy. He stumbled to the living room where he cried. He didn't know why, but he was. He couldn't stop, and it scared him.

"Near, are you okay?" Someone asked him, touching his shoulder. He looked at the clock. Six. He then looked at the face. Eclipse. He looked away and continued crying.

"Near? I'll be right back. I'm going to get Matt, okay?" She rushed away. And all he could do was cry.

"Matt! Matt!" Eclipse yelled running into he and Mello's shared room. They both looked at her sleepily and annoyed.

"What?"

"Something's wrong with Near!"