Disclaimer: I do not own The Sixth Sense or any of its related characters or themes.
AN1: I've watched the Sixth Sense three times in the past week… and I still can't get it out of my head. It's an awesome movie! Old… but awesome.
AN2: Takes place before the King Arthur play at the end of the movie. Such a cute scene :)
AN3: Somehow Into Dust by Ashton Command kept playing in my head while typing this out. Check it out, it's an awesome song!
.
.
.
A Vacation from a Gift
.
.
.
Cole Sear lies still in his bed, pretending to be asleep until his mother left. It was past eleven already, and he knows, that even if he doesn't go to school tomorrow, she'll still have to wake up early for her first job tomorrow morning.
So, he waits until she leaves the room and before sitting up and stretching out.
He's been stuck in bed all day. Sometime during last night he'd managed to get a fever and develop a full-set of stomach-flu all in one go. He was happy that it happened on a Sunday. Missing Church sucked, but at least his mom didn't have to miss work to take care of him.
He knows how much she worries about her jobs, and about him. Their financial situation. About his school work. How his friends are treating him. Why he's so secretive. Why there are strange things always happening in their house.
Just last week the pair of them came back and found all the faucets of their apartment running fully, the water streaming down the counters and unto the floors because the drains were somehow blocked. The apartment itself sustained little damage, but they had to air out all their rugs and a couple of their books, and replace the heater that had been on the floor of Cole's bedroom.
The landlady was actually very sympathetic, probably because she'd taken to Cole during the weekend she had to look after him when his mother was ill a year ago. She'd arranged for them to stay at a nearby guesthouse until the water damage was fully cleared. "Can't afford to have a young lad like that catching pneumonia in this winter, now can we?" the old lady had said with a smile. She was nice.
It was a good thing too, in their old apartment, being sick was worse than just the sickness itself. Helen, the sardonic housewife. Tommy, the Huckleberry Finn- imitator. Denise, the philosophic duchess. At least they didn't visit him anymore. But now, now, new… people came to visit him.
A lady across town had lost her baby girl. She'd left her child alone in the bathtub when the phone rang. When she came back, her child had drowned. That night, after tucking her son in to sleep, the lady took sleeping pills and ran the bath until it was overflowing. She climbed in and … Cole flinched as the thoughts ran through his mind. He knows he'll have to go and talk to the lady's husband and son soon.
"Hey, big guy"
Cole sighed as he smiled in relief. At least, with Dr. Crowe here, there won't be other people coming to visit him… maybe his mom, but not the others. "Hi," he finally said, sitting up a bit more.
Some people call it a gift, don't they. To be able to see what he sees. To hear what he hears. But, gifts are supposed to make you feel good, right? They're not supposed to make you feel bad.
"I heard you're not feeling too hot," the doctor joked, sitting down at the end of Cole's bed.
The young boy pulled his comforter closer to his neck, hiding the fact that the hairs on his arms were raised and he had goosebumps. I don't want to know you're already dead. I don't want you to disappear yet. "I'm feeling better now," he answered finally. I'm glad you're here.
"I guess… you're happy, you don't have to go to school tomorrow, right?" the man said with a smile, lacing his fingers on his lap, "You can watch TV all day… "
"I… yeah…" Cole said, forcing a smile. I'm glad I don't have to go back tomorrow. I'm not sure how my stomach will take seeing people hanged to death.
"I got some good news…." Dr. Crowe said, he smiled brightly when he spotted the boy listening attentively, "I've read a book about storytelling"
Cole's smile faltered, but only for a second. I guess that is good news. Your last one was terrible.
"The book said: 'Start your story like any other day'," the doctor said and waved his arms dramatically, "So, there I was, staring a forty-foot dragon in the eyes, ready to chop off his neck,"
"I thought the book said the story should start 'like any other day'," Cole protested, his face slightly twisted to mild confusion.
"How do you know I don't chop the heads off forty-foot dragons every day?" Dr. Crowe said, smiling involuntarily at the pure absurdity of this argument.
Heheh… good answer. Cole smiled faintly and shrugged, more interested in Dr. Crowe's retort than the argument itself.
"…. Fine…" Dr. Crowe relented, sighing theatrically, "How should we begin the story?"
"Maybe… … um…" the young boy frowned as he lowered his head to think for a moment, "A prince gets a letter to attend a sword-fighting competition, but it ends up that it's a trap?"
"I think you skipped to the exciting bit," Dr. Crowe said, grinning.
"Oh, right…" Cole said with a sheepish smile, but suddenly turned pale and swallowed purposefully.
"You alright?" Dr. Crowe asked, concerned.
"I… um…" Cole started again, but suddenly just pointed to the trashcan in the corner of the room.
The older man nodded, he quickly got up and grabbed the trashcan, handing it to the younger boy.
The young boy stuck his head inside the trashcan, coughing painfully for a few times before finally ending in a couple of dry heaves. "Ugh… I hate this…" his echoed voice emerged from the can.
"Can I get you something?" Malcolm asked, already getting up, "A glass of water, maybe?"
Another dry heave came instead of a reply, but the doctor could see Cole's head shaking heartedly. I think if my mom comes into the kitchen ever again and finds all the cupboard doors open, she might have a heart attack.
A couple of footsteps echoed from the hall before Cole's bedroom light was switched on, "Honey, are you okay?" Mrs. Sear asked, looking alert but still half-asleep as she pulled the corduroy around her tighter.
"I'm okay," Cole lied elegantly, neatly setting down the can next to him, "I think that was the last time… I feel much better"
The woman smiled and moulded her hand over his forehead, "You still feel a bit warm," she said and planted a kiss on his forehead, "You are not going to school tomorrow, got it?"
"Got it"
"And I'm going to get you some movies to watch and you're going to stay in bed all day, mister," she warned, smiling at the end.
"Thanks, mama," he said, breathing in contently as she hugged him.
"I think I should get going," Dr. Crowe said, finally getting up from the bed.
"I think I need to get you another blanket, it's freezing in here," she said, rubbing her son's arms before grabbing her jacket and pulling it closed one more time. She quickly left the room, her footsteps disappearing down the hall.
Malcolm tilted his head but didn't say anything. He didn't feel cold at all. He made a mental note to remind himself to thank his wife for the winter jacket she'd bought him for Christmas four years ago. He also made another mental note that in four weeks his wife will want to celebrate their anniversary for their first date. Fourteen years ago. Doesn't seem that long. He's hoping to make it all up to her. Finally.
Mrs. Sear returns a few minutes later with a thick down comforter, draping the blanket over him, making sure to drop it over his head as well. They both end up chuckling, and Malcolm takes that as his cue to leave.
"G'night," Cole said, knowing his friend had already left. He pulled the comforter back down and smiled, feeling sincerely happy for once. Thanks for visiting, Dr. Crowe.
"Good night, Cole," his mother said, and tucked in the sides of the comforter before leaving the room once more.
"Should I leave the light on?" she asked, leaning back into the room with a smile.
"Y…. no, thanks… I'm okay," the young boy answered, settling back down. I think I'll be able to sleep tonight.
.
.
.
Thanks for reading!
Please drop me a pm or a review if you liked it :DD I'll really appreciate it!