Hello there! It's me again. I should really update Arrache, but inspiration struck and... here this is. My computer's about to die so I'm typing fast, because I wanna get this up as soon as possible, but here you go! Please enjoy and leave a review if you liked it! I'll probably update sometime tomorrow. Even if you didn't enjoy, leave a review and let me know what I did wrong, so I can fix it in the future. -Mickey
Two boys, two very, very different boys, have always been destined to meet. Not because they're soulmates, not because of any bullshit that their friends may tell you. No, no. This story is very different. It's their destiny because Nick Duval made it their destiny.
A 7 year old Jeff Sterling lay on his bed, his eyes closed and so close to tears as he re-lived the day that he'd had in his mind. It had been bad. Really, really bad. Worse than usual, which was extremely terribly bad. The other kids had teased him, called him gay and fag, both of which he didn't understand. Why would people call him happy in mean tones? Or a cigarette? Were they accusing him of smoking? He didn't quite comprehend it all. He'd always been smart than most people in his grade, which painted a huge target for ridicule on his back. He'd been shoved around when teachers weren't looking at recess and in the halls. Even when the teachers were looking, they made rude comments and pulled at his hair, telling him of how it was too blonde, or that they wouldn't be able to pull it if he'd cut it. Still, none of the teachers dared to do anything about the torment. He hated it. He hated the school, he hated the kids at school, and he hated his life. Sometimes he'd have dreams about death, and he'd write about t. Most importantly, his death. He'd made the mistake of taking his journal to school that day, and one of the other kids picked it up when he dropped it, reading it aloud to the boy's group of friends around him. All his stories, all his fantasies, everything that he'd trusted his little red journal with. Everyone knew of all his little fantasies. They knew that Jeff dreamed about his own death, and awoke with a smile. Whether it was because his mind actually thought he was dead for that minute, or because he was relieved to be alive, he wasn't sure. But of course, he knew what everyone thought now. Just another reason for torment.
He sat up wiping the tears from his eyes. All he wanted was a friend. Someone who wouldn't hurt him for his flaws, someone who would like him for the weirdo he was. He closed his eyes tightly for a second, before opening them and hopping off his bed, kneeling down beside it. He closed his eyes again, holding his hands in front of him and silently praying. Hey. My name's Jeff, but if you're as great as everybody says, then you already knew that. Today was terrible, and I hated it. Can you help me? I need it. I've been dreaming about death. I have an… odd fascination with it, according to my friend Nicky. Well, I wouldn't really consider him a friend; all he ever does is tease me. But he says I need a doctor. Not a medical doctor, no. A mental one. A psychiatrist, but they're not fun. My Mom says I need to go, too. But I don't wanna go. They'll try to change me, and my problem is that I don't wanna change. I'm perfectly happy the way I am. They think I'm not happy because I cry when I'm home, but that's because of people, not me. I'm happy with me. I'm not happy with people. Please help me. So uh, I've never actually done this before, so I don't know how to end it. I guess I should just say… bye?
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a crash outside, and then something that sounded like climbing on the outside of his house. Shortly afterwards, he heard a soft knock on his window and he jumped up, running to it and opening his window. His parents had of course taught him not to talk to strangers, and if there's a knock on your window and there's a strange man outside – for the love of god, don't open it. But this man was different. Something in the back of Jeff's mind told him to open up the window. And so he did, finding himself face-to-face with a man dressed in a white suit and a bowtie.
"Hello there. I'm the Doctor. You called?"