Sorry I haven't updated any stories. I've just had this idea for a while so, I've worked on it for the past two weeks. Here's my two shot.

This maybe a trigger for some people. This setting in season three.


Kim's POV

I stared at Jerry in utter disgust. He decided it was ok to burp very loudly, grabbing the attention of everyone in Falafel Phil's. I gagged as I smelt the falafel mixed with coke and garlic. Milton, who sat beside him, gagged as while. Milton fanned with his hand, trying to make the terrible smell go away. It wasn't going anywhere. But, Jack, who sat next to me, raised his hand. Jack and Jerry hi fived with stupid, goofy smiles on their faces.

"Good one," Jack complemented.

"Thank you, Jack. Someone knows the art of burping," Jerry replied.

Jack nodded. He phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug his iPhone out of his back pocket. He had gotten a text, so he started reading it. I looked away and focused on Milton and Jerry's argument.

"That was not art! That was just plain disgusting!" Milton shouted.

Jerry rolled his eyes. "Burping is a talent."

I glared at him. "No it's not. Anyone can burp!" I shouted.

"Not everyone can burp the alphabet in under one minute!" Jerry shouted.

This was one of the many reasons why Jerry couldn't keep a girlfriend. Two weeks before this Jerry was going out with this girl named Mary. They went to Falafel Phil's. Coincidentally, I was making an order when they walked in. His opening statement to her was: "You know, I can burp the alphabet." He didn't even wait for her to respond. He just burped the alphabet. The worst part was that he was nice and close to her face when he did. It was like he was excepting a kiss for something as idiotic as that. She gave him a disgusted look and left without saying a word. Well, actually, she did say, "Ugh!"

Milton argued more with Jerry about real art and the art of burping. I looked over to Jack, who was staring at his phone. My eyebrow stitched together. Jack held his phone so tight. It looked like he was going to break it any moment. The light and bright aura around Jack had vanished and got replaced by a gray, dark one. I was worried as he started shaking his head lightly.

"Jack, what's up?" I asked.

Jack looked away from his phone and look at me. He quickly tapped the lock button on his phone. He put it back in his pocket. At this point, Jerry and Milton stopped arguing and paid attention to Jack.

"It's nothing...um, my uncle is visiting from New York," Jack muttered.

"Oh, so, is that a bad thing?" I asked.

Jack looked at all us.

"No. Yes. I-I gotta go," Jack stuttered.

He got up and pulled out his wallet. Jack quickly got out a ten dollar bill to pay for his food and rushed out. I took note that Jack was shaking a little bit when he pulled out the ten dollars. The boys and I exchanged confused looks.

"Jack is almost never nervous. What's up with him?" Jerry asked, worried.

Milton and I shrugged.

"I don't know, but it has something to do with his uncle," I said, stating the obvious.


Jack's POV

"No. No. No. This is not happening. He's not coming here. He can't be," I thought as I was driving home.

My heart was racing; pounding against my chest. I stopped at the red light. I took a deep breath in and out. I closed my eyes and took a breath in and out again. I started to clam down, but a driver behind me honked. My eyes shot open and my heart raced again. I saw that the light was green. I pressed on the gas. The clouds up above turned from white to grey, slowly blocking out the sun. The weather matched my mood. I turned into my street.

I lived in a nice neighborhood. It was quiet and the people there would never bothered you. There weren't many crimes. Not like there was in the other neighborhoods where Kim, Jerry, and Milton lived. They had to have many patrol officers in their neighborhoods.

I turned into the driveway of my house. I smiled slightly when I saw no one was home yet. It almost immediately vanished when I remembered my mom and dad were at the airport picking him up. I started breathing heavily. I got out my car, shaking. It started pouring rain as soon as I got out. I ran through our small yard and to the door. I fuddled around with the keys for a minute because I was shaking. I wasn't shaking because I was cold. I managed to get to the right key and opened the door. I stepped in, closing the door behind me. I ran up the wooden stairs, that were set in of the door. I ran to the end on the carpeted hall to my room.

I got in and slammed the door behind me. I looked to the floor with my back against the door. I felt tears sting my eyes. I let my hot tears shed as I looked back on the terrible and horrifying memories. Memories that I wished I had forgotten. But no, they tormented me every time I had a nightmare. I wished my brain locked it all away because the trauma was too hard on me.

I was seventeen. Things that had happened seven years before still haunted me. It was because of him I couldn't sleep at night as a child without screaming for help. I had to sleep with my parents. At the age of eleven, I took karate in order to protect myself. Of course that didn't work. He was still too strong.

I slide down the door and sat down. I was silent as I folded into fetal position. I wrapped my arms around my knees and placed my head on my arms. I gently rocked back and forth, comforting myself. It didn't stop the endless stream of tears.

"It'll be ok. He'll be gone in two days. It'll be alright," I whispered to myself.

I always whispered that to myself when I was ten, eleven, and twevle. It never did work. I always thought that maybe he'd get tired of me. I thought that every time I heard about him coming over for visit or I had to go because he had to babysit. I sobbed, thinking about his deadly visits.

I got up, slowly. I looked down at my soaking clothes. I went to my closet and quickly changed into sweatpants and a band t-shirt. That was the fastest I had ever changed because I felt like he was right behind me. I felt his eye roaming my body. I shiver as walked over to my door. I opened the door and shuffled my feet to the bathroom across my room. I turned on my light and closed the door. I breathed in and out slowly. It was the technique I picked up on from elementary school. Our counselor came to class one day and demonstrated to us how to calm down when you're nervous for a test or just nervous in general.

The first thing was to think happy thoughts. Back then, I didn't have many happy thoughts. I didn't have Kim to think about. So, the second thing was talk about it. That wasn't happening. The third and last thing was to take deep breaths. That worked...all the way up until I saw him lurking in my room one night. I had a panic attack. He had to stop himself and call for help.

I twisted the knob on the sink. I cup my hands together and filled them with cold water. I splashed myself with the water.

~flashback~

"Uncle, I-I don't wanna-" I said with my shaky, ten year old voice.

"You have to. Do want a red power ranger for Christmas?" He asked with his deep voice.

He knelt down in front of me. I looked up at him from the bathroom tiles. The corners of my lips pulled upward as I nodded my head, yes. He smirked. He made me kiss him. That's what he asked me to do. It was the first of many incidents.

~end of flashback~

I tried to suck in air because I couldn't catch my breath. My heartbeat increased again and I felt like I would faint or even die at any moment. The sudden flashback didn't help my anxiety. I automatically started thinking about Kim. It stopped my panic attack.

"It's ok-"

I heard the front door opened, followed by my mom and dad's voices welcoming someone in. I froze when I heard his voice. That voice haunted my mind for years. My brain wouldn't let me forget. I wasn't ready for this. I could not face him. Not yet...not ever.

"Jack! Come on! Say hi to Uncle James!" My dad shouted for me.

I could hear the goddamn smirk on James' face.

"You're seventeen years old, he can't do anything to you," I reassured myself before I had yet another panic attack.

If you were wondering, I hadn't gotten a panic attack in a while. The last time I had one was when I had a nightmare about James' a year before. I used to have them all the time when I was eleven. You know how I said he snuck into my room and I had a panic attack? Yeah, that's when the panic attacks started. I had one once every other day. Back then, whenever I thought about him I had an attack. But my parents has only seen it happen twice and the first was when my uncle called for help.

The second time was when we were at the carnival and my parents didn't want to go in the haunted house with me. They insisted that I'd go with my uncle because he was willing to go in with me. That one was the worst. There was a crowd. So many people stared at me, scared. They wanted to help but they didn't know how. My mom didn't understand what was happening to her only son. She burst into tears. My dad partly understood. He knew I was having a panic attack, but he didn't know why. My uncle looked at me, his little toy, worried and frightened.

My dad made an attempt at stopping it by telling me I was ok. It didn't work. I thought about all the things my uncle could have done with me in the dark haunted house. No one would've cared if we just weren't in the tour group anymore. They'd think it was a part of the act. People got paid to grab you randomly and make you scream, then disappear until the tour was done. It also didn't help because there was this huge crowd staring at me. That didn't help at all, so I ended up fainting. I woke up in the hospital hours later. When the doctor asked me what the trigger was, I lied and said I got scared of one of the clowns because my uncle sat beside my mom. I was scared of clowns, but I'd never have an attack over it. But the doctor didn't know that. I remember my uncle's smirk when I lied. He knew I lied and he knew damn well that he was trigger.

Anyway, I turned to the closed door slowly. I turned the door knob and walked out. I took my precious time when I walked down the hall, toward the stairs. Once I got downstairs, I heard laughter from the kitchen. I turned to left, toward the big threshold of the dinning room. Once you're there, you can see the kitchen. I saw the back of his head.

My forty-seven year old mom walked toward the fridge. She was short with dirty blonde hair. I didn't inherit anything from her, except her eye color, which was light brown. My dad, on the other hand, was tall and had brunette hair with green eyes. He also had big feet that I, unfortunately, inherited. I saw that he was sitting across from James, talking about an up coming baseball game.

I walked through the dining room. I took my time by looking at old and new family pictures that sat on a shelf and hung on the wall. There were only eight, but I made sure to make myself look occupied. I frowned as my eyes landed on the last one that hung on the wall. I stopped in my track and just stood there, staring at the old picture. It was a picture of James and I smiling. My small arms were wrapped around his neck. It was my attempt at hugging him. He was knelt down and had an arm around me. You could see the Christmas tree in the background. I had a red power ranger in my hand. My jaw tightened as I glared at that stupid ranger.

"Jack," I heard my mom's voice. I turned toward her. She was in the middle of pouring lemonade. "Say hi."

I gave her a small smile and nodded. I saw my dad's eyes land on me. He smiled.

"Hi, Jack. It's about time. We called you ten minutes ago," My dad said.

"I was in the bathroom, sorry," I said quietly.

I walked in. My heartbeat immediately increased. My body was on high alert.

"Hi, Uncle James."


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