Chapter 10 (Rough Draft)
Fanboy didn't wake until the next day until about noon. When he finally did, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't move his arms, and it was completely silent. Fanboy looked wildly around the room. It was completely cushioned, the walls and the floor both. It was cushioned with soft, white pads.
He was in a mental asylum.
"...No."
Fanboy glanced down in horror and realized that he was wearing a straight jacket. "Oh no! Oh gosh, oh gosh! T-this c-can't be happening!"
Whimpering hysterically, he shuffled his body over to a corner of the room, tripping over his own feet several times in the process.
Looking down once more, he saw that he was wearing his costume. The blood had been washed out and his shoes were back as well. Only his cape was missing, for they were aware that he could hang himself. His shoelaces were gone as well.
Fanboy sniffed and laid his head on one of the soft cushions. He just wanted to go home, was that too much to ask? Well, apparently for these people. Fanboy lay silent, wondering, and lost in his own thoughts.
Silence…
Then, "Hi Fanboy!"
Fanboy looked up. "...CHUM CHUM?!" He gasped.
Silence…
"See you later, Fanboy!"
Fanboy nearly doubled over from shock. "W-WAIT! Don't leave me… Wait… Chum Chum…" The boy was gone.
Silence…
Fanboy laughed and cried hysterically at same time. "Ch-Chum ChuuUUUUuuuM! Please! D-Don't l-l-leave me…" When Fanboy received no reply, he brought his knees to his face and screamed. "Please, SOMEONE! ANYONE! HELP ME! I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! PLEASE, I NEED TO GO HOME! I WANNA GO HOOOOOME!"
The lights turned off, and Fanboy was shrouded in complete darkness. He hiccuped and let out some gasp-like sobs and fell on his side, tears smearing along the cushioned floor.
After a night of nothing but terror-filled nightmares, Fanboy finally awoke from his uncomfortable slumber. The lights were lit again, and it was completely silent. Fanboy sniffed and tried to sit up, but doing that was difficult, because his arms were strapped around his torso.
"Another day of this, huh?" He said out loud. His voice echoed around the room. He had never felt so alone…
It was funny how he didn't feel hungry or thirsty. Had the doctors given him a medicine to stop all that? There was nothing to do but wait. Fanboy lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, the only spot in the room that wasn't padded. Instead of cushions, bright lights hung from the ceiling, nearly blinding the boy.
As more and more time passed, the gears in Fanboy's mind began to slow, little by little. He barely moved. Only his chest moved up and down, according to his breathing. His eyes blinked, of course, but that was about it. When he was tired enough, he simply went to sleep, in the same position.
A few hours later, a man came into the room. He moved about swiftly, in a no-nonsense way, and he lightly picked up the boy and sped out of the room. Fanboy didn't bother to ask where they were going; he was just happy to be out of that mental-asylum. He buried his face in the crook of the man's neck, as the man tossed him over his shoulder. The man traveled for a while, down brightly lit corridors, passing many rooms and many patients, who looked up at the boy in curiosity.
Finally the two reached a small room. The man shut the door and gently placed the boy down. "Can you undress yourself?" He asked kindly, but in a rapid-fire kind of voice. He sounded like a TV show announcer. He wore a pale green suit, had snazzy hair, and a green fedora hat.
Fanboy looked up at him in confusion. "Of course I can," He stated, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. Then he thought, "Remember, you're in a mental hospital, and this guy thinks you're crazy. Just go along with whatever he says."
"Great, go ahead and undress yourself and I'll be right back—I just have to go get another patient." With that said and done, the man ran out, shutting the door behind him.
Part of Fanboy wanted to leave the room. So he tried the doorknob, and of course, it was locked. The super-fan heaved a sigh and looked at the uniform. Fanboy quickly stripped himself as quietly as he could, and for the first time, he noticed that the strait jacket was gone. He quickly stripped himself, tossing his clothes and shoes aside.
He took a deep breath. "Okay, relax," he thought to himself. He worked his way around the bandage and managed to dress himself completely.
Fanboy heard the door open and close and he whipped around, blinking rapidly because of the water, to see whom the intruder was. His jaw dropped open in shock, as did the intruder's. Yo.
Both preteens stood frozen, and both had the same thing on their minds. Fanboy was the first to speak it though, "W-What are you doing here?" He gawked at her, completely forgetting that he was nude. A flicker of fear and a tiny blush spread across Yo's face. She bit her lip. "Yo? Q-Quit looking!" He hissed in embarrassment, and Yo averted her eyes to the ground. Her blush grew.
"You can't look either!" Yo said, placing her hands on her hips.
"W—What?" Fanboy asked angrily, still a bit put out that his privacy had been invaded by… by a girl.
"Because Mr. Johnson said that I'm assigned to change here," she explained, obviously just as unhappy by the prospect as Fanboy was. "So don't look."
Fanboy's mouth stood agape. "H-He told you to change here?" He muttered in disbelief. "What a weirdo..." He watched with wide eyes as she turned her back towards him and began to take off her sunny-yellow shirt.
"Don't look!" She hissed, but Fanboy didn't move, watching in curious fascination and shock as she removed her shirt completely, along with the rest of her clothes. The blush on his face grew darker, and a slightly uncomfortable feeling invaded his body. Yo whipped her own body around to check if Fanboy was looking, and to her shock, he was. She let out a little shriek of her own and tied to cover herself with her hands. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO LOOK!" She yelled.
Fanboy glared at her. "You were looking at ME! So we're even!"
Yo merely scowled at the male.
When she finally settled down, the two remained silent, and simply stared at each other. The boy played nervously with his thumbs for a moment, and kept glancing up at the girl, even if he got red in the face and felt ashamed for even looking at her.
"S-So," He mumbled quietly.
Yo looked up and raised her eyebrows. "Mm?"
He bit his lip apprehensively and cleared his throat. "S-So, why are you here?"
Yo looked at the soapy patterns in the warm water. "The same reasons you're here, I suppose. Freaky imagery can do a lotta stuff to hurt my brain."
Fanboy nodded and put on a half-smile. "R-Right…"
The two were silent again for a few moments.
"Yo?"
"…Mm?"
"D-Do you… Um… Are you mad at me?"
Yo didn't answer and Fanboy added quickly, "It's okay. I understand."
Yo sighed, "Why?"
"Why… What?"
"Why were you hurting me? Y-You just attacked me. After all we did. After all I did for you."
Nothing could make Fanboy feel any crummier than he did then. "…I don't know. I don't know what came over me. I-I just completely lost it." Fanboy mumbled. "I was so angry. About what people thought of me of what you thought of me, Chum Chum's death… I-I've been holding it in…so long-"
"FANBOY!" Yo interrupted. Fanboy stopped.
"Just…" Yo shook her head, "Never mind. Don't say anything, Fanboy. I don't want to hear it."
"W-What?" The boy whispered in consternation.
"Don't come near me. Don't touch me. Don't talk to me." Yo said unhurriedly, making sure her prestige would be understood. "If you can, don't look at me. I don't want to be involved anymore."
"B-But Yo-" She held up a hand and glanced away. She alleged, "I don't wanna hear it."
"Do you hate me?" Fanboy whispered and tears were brimming at his eyes at the moment. "You do, don't you?"
"No… I don't hate you. I'm just…tired of caring for you. I'm trying to help what's wrong with you, and that's the big problem. You tried to kill me. You tried to KILL me! I can't…no." She shook her head as she spoke. "It's like whatever I did for you never counted. None of it did. It was just… I don't even know you anymore. You are just so… I don't know WHAT to think of you. I don't hate you and I can't say I like you, not after what happened. I just… I don't want to be near you."
"Are ya scareda me?" Fanboy murmured, hoping to God that her answer would be no.
Yo didn't answer and Fanboy quietly sulked. The tears that he had been holding in for a while fell, and he turned his back to Yo. "She's sick of seeing me cry," He thought miserably. "She doesn't like me. She hates me she hates me she hates me."
"So we're not friends?" Fanboy choked out, not meeting her eyes.
No answer.
Fanboy glared at her then. "It's a yes or no question! Do you... Would you consider me a friend or not?"
Yo glared. "I. Don't. KNOW!"
Fanboy gritted his teeth as his temper began to rise. This was so important! He just had to know! "JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!" He yelled, his anger reaching its peak.
He stared at Yo, who drew back further away from him, her face pale, and her eyes wide. "Don't hurt me!" She warned, squaring herself up. "Don't hurt me, please."
Fanboy ignored her sudden fear and stepped forward nonetheless. "No! I'm sick of this!" Fear was replaced with anger and hatred. "Stop talking to me! Don't look at me!" He mimicked in a whiny voice. "Why aren't ya normal?! Why cant you be normal!?" He reached forward and grasped one of her pigtails.
Yo raised her fist and it entered his lie of sight. He fell backwards and gasped.
"NEVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!" The girl yelled. She stood over him, and gave him a painful stomp in between the legs.
…
"Hey! Are you all right, Kid?" Fanboy opened his eyes to see a hand and a flashlight waving in front of his face. He licked at his lips and tasted blood, and even worse, a gap where one of his canine teeth used to be. "She can really punch hard," Fanboy gasped, and he tried sitting up. He looked around.
"Boy," said the man, clearly impressed. "She did a number on you, didn't she? Terrific shiner!"
"What?" Fanboy brought a hand up to his face and rested it over his black eye. Great, it was swollen. He could barely see. He pointed this out. "Well," the man laughed, tousling his hair, "you still have your other eye!"
"That one's glass," Fanboy replied flatly.
"You have a glass eye, huh? Interesting! Are you okay?" The man asked. Fanboy nodded slowly. "I saw you and that girl, and boy was she beating the tar out of you! Did you get in a fight?" The man asked.
Fanboy wanted to scream, "NO KIDDING SHERLOCK!" Instead, he said, "I tripped and fell on her," He mumbled. "She got the wrong idea."
"Oh, well that's a head-scratcher! How did that happen?"
Fanboy blinked, and pain took over for the millionth time. "D-Do you know where she is?" He asked.
The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I think she was led back to her room.
"Oh, okay."
"Perhaps she went to the cafeteria for lunch. You're heading there, right?" The man asked, patting Fanboy on the back.
"I guess so," Fanboy answered. He tried lifting himself up, but noticed many bruises aligning his legs and waist and arms. There even a couple of bruises aligning his sensitive areas. The man noticed Fanboy's struggling and gently helped him up, and he was even kind enough to help Fanboy get dressed into his outfit.
"Now," the man said firmly, dusting on Fanboy's shoulders, "you need to keep out of her way, if you don't want trouble, understand?"
"I don't want any trouble," Fanboy mumbled, keeping his head lowered to hide his face.
"Hey," The man's fingers crept under Fanboy's chin and tilted his head up to face him. "You're a good-looking kid, but that doesn't mean that you can pounce over any girl you want and expect them to be your slave. Many wouldn't like it."
Fanboy just stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Hey! It's time for lunch! Let us go get something to eat, what do you say?" The man asked cheerfully, smacking Fanboy on the back, which almost caused the boy to topple over.
"O-Okay."
"That's the spirit! Now, I know what you're thinking!" the man said, as they walked out the door and down the hallway, "Hospital food? Yuck! That must be extremely horrible, right? Wrong! You know, here they serve great foods, like salad, and pizza, and burritos, and for drinks they have soda and water, and milk, and Frosty Freezy Freeze, and Slushies'…"
Luckily, Fanboy had tuned the man out before he even spoke his second sentence during their walk. It was a long one too, and Fanboy thought that his eardrums would break if this guy wouldn't hush up in the next minute.
"…And some of the other patients you'll be meeting are really interesting people! You'll meet them in our icebreaker circle! And-OH! Here we are: the cafeteria!" Fanboy snapped out of his thoughts and glanced at the double doors that stood before him. The man moved forward and with a friendly smile, he pushed the door open for Fanboy. The young male rushed past him, mumbling out a quiet thank-you.
As soon as Fanboy entered the cafeteria, he froze in his tracks. The place was packed with crowds of people, probably over two hundred of them, from older preteens to older teenagers. Fanboy felt so small compared to everyone else, and felt even weaker as the force from tall, sullen male bumping into him made him nearly topple over as he zoomed past with his lunch tray.
The man who had directed Fanboy walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to sit with me?" he asked gently. Fanboy nodded quickly. "All right, go ahead and get your lunch over there in that line and I'll be sitting at table Z. Sound good?" Fanboy nodded again, eager to at least make a friend.
The man smiled and started to walk to the end of the cafeteria.
Fanboy thought for a moment. "W-Wait, Mr.!"
The man turned around. "Yes?"
"What about your lunch?"
He laughed and pointed to his fanny pack. "I've got tater-tots! Oh, and one more thing…?" He called.
"…Y-Yeah?" Fanboy replied hastily.
"Call me Eliot! Remember that! See you at table Z!" Elliot walked away into the crowd of talking, laughing people.
Fanboy bit his lip and slowly made his way over to the lunch line, trying not to draw attention to his own self. He also kept his head down so nobody would notice his black eye. Ugh. He wished that he still had his mask. Maybe he could ask the staff if they had any paper bags. Nobody was in line, so he figured that he was a bit late to lunch.
He sighed and looked at the serve-yourself food that was displayed before him. Okay, there was a little left. Good. Feeling his appetite coming back, Fanboy piled up mini corn dogs on his pate along with some strawberries and a cheeseburger. At the end of the line there was a soda machine, so he filled his cup up with the convenient drink: Frosty Freezy Freeze.
Fanboy lifted his head and scanned the crowd, looking for Elliot at table Z. As he scanned the crowd, he locked eyes with a blonde girl. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and then she nudged another girl sitting next to her, whispered something, and pointed at Fanboy.
Then that girl nudged the rest her friends and they too, stared at Fanboy. He felt his face heat up, and he began to stroll past the table, gripping his lunch tray until his knuckles underneath his gloves became white. He felt stares burning at the back of his head, and he had a feeling that they weren't impressive or friendly stares.
It was bearable, he supposed, until someone pointed, laughed, and yanked on his cape. Fanboy glared at the person who gripped his cape, and he yanked it away from the guy. Unfortunately, Fanboy yanked too hard, and he lost his grip on his tray, causing it fall, of COURSE, on the toughest-looking kid in the cafeteria. The kid shrieked as corn dogs and strawberries pelted him. Fanboy managed to catch the Frosty Freezy Freeze before it landed on the kid. The kid's friends laughed and some hid their giggles behind their hands.
The kid slowly, menacingly, began to turn around until he caught sight Fanboy, who was gathering his tray from the floor. The kid rose from the table and inspected Fanboy, looking over him.
Jeez, the kid was a whole head taller than him! He looked about sixteen or seventeen. The kid's mouth dropped open, as if he was shocked, and then he started to laugh. It started a chain reaction, and soon, the whole cafeteria was laughing, and Fanboy was the source. "Oh NO WAY, MAN!" the kid yelled with glee. "NO WAY!"
"Aw, just leave him alone, Blake!" A girl laughed.
Blake moved towards Fanboy so fast that Fanboy had barely any time to process it. He gazed up at the teenager's face, which had now contorted into a scowl. "You have got to be kidding me!"
Fanboy bit his lip and looked down at the tile floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It was an accident."
"Not the FOOD, you IDIOT! What the Hell do you think I was talking about! What the Hell is wrong with you, Retard?" Blake cackled. "Dressed up like that. What are you in for? Being a psycho nerd?"
The younger male bristled for a moment. "Psycho Nerd? Wow, did you spend all night coming up with that one?" Fanboy retorted, and everyone in the cafeteria "oohed"
Blake just smiled. "Actually, it was a month. Hm…I'll bet you're wondering who I am."
Fanboy rolled his eyes, "I didn't ask you."
Blake's smile got wider and he shook a fist. Fanboy didn't care. He was so sick of being picked on. "Oh wait, let me guess. You must be the cliché bully in the movies! Nobody else would be this…" Fanboy grimaced and finished with, "Stereotypical."
"Pfft. That is such a cute outfit! Did your boyfriend get it for you? So what's your name: Fagboy?" The teenager snickered.
Fanboy's eyes grew furious and he yanked the lid off of his Frosty Freezy freeze, and dumped it on Blake's shirt. Everything and everyone was silent for a moment.
Craaack!
Fanboy stumbled backwards a few feet, his eyes wide from shock. Blood burst from his nose for the second time that day, and leaked from his mouth as another tooth came loose. Thank goodness he still had baby teeth. Blake swung again, and this time, Fanboy ducked, and kicked at Blake, aiming for his thigh. He aimed a bit too high though, and Blake screeched. Another punch sent Fanboy reeling with pain on the floor, his blood splattering among the cold, tile floor.
Were there no counselors in this place? Somebody had to take control of these patients. A swift kicked landed him in the gut and Fanboy lost his breath. Where was Elliot? Fanboy scanned the crowd, but couldn't the man's face anywhere.
"E-E-Elliot…"Fanboy coughed out, and he started to feebly crawl away. Everyone in the cafeteria had forgotten all about their lunches and was now circling the two, shouting, "FIGHT, FIGHT, AND FIGHT!"
A strong pair of hands grabbed Fanboy's ankles and dragged him to the center of the circle. Fanboy weakly tried to lift himself up from the floor, but Blake kicked him in the back of the head, causing him to collapse back onto the tile.
"GO BLAKE!" Fanboy's vision swam as he lifted his head toward the direction of the sound. Yo… and…MARSHA? Fanboy tried shaking his head clear, but another kick from Blake blurred his vision. He could barely make out a blurry image of Marsha pumping her fists in the air. "YEAH! BLAKE! YOU GOT THISSSS! KICK HIM WITH ALL YOU'VE GOT!" Fanboy gazed at them and he began to smile from dizziness until Blake's foot caught him in the side of the face. The room hushed, everyone in the audience shocked, waiting, not wanting to miss a movement or word. Fanboy felt tears leaking out of his eyes, and he began to feel layers of anxiety creep up his spine.
"Wait, your name is FANBOY? Oh, this is too much!" Blake howled, laughing so hard that he almost kneeled over. "THAT'S YOUR NAME? OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SO STUPID!" His laughter echoed through the now silent room.
Fanboy felt his heart clench and he faintly tried to crawl away once more, but Blake quickly blocked his path and continued to further taunt him.
"Come on, little super hero!" Blake mocked harshly, "Come on and get up and fight! Aw! Are you too weak? Are you too pathetic? I'm cliché?" he laughed. "You have got to be the worst super wannabe I've ever seen!" Blake taunted. He stood over Fanboy's broken body and noticed the amount of blood pouring out of his mouth. He laughed and poked Fanboy's back with his foot. "Well? Are you going to fight? Huh? Are you, Psycho nerd?"
Just as it had with that fateful day he had attacked Yo, anger seemed to fuel his energy. He trembled with rage, tears pouring down his face and mixing with his blood, his fists clenching and unclenching, his teeth grinding together. With a furious screech, Fanboy swung his fist at Blake's face, and broke his nose. Many people cheered. Blood ran down Blake's peach complexion, and he screamed, bringing his hands to his face. He then grabbed Fanboy's collar, yanked him up, and whispered in his ear, "You're so dead, Retard. Oh, and you think little Elliot is coming to your rescue? Oh how pathetic do you think he is?"
He then slammed Fanboy's body back to the floor and sat on his arms, so that he couldn't move. Blake slugged Fanboy's face again and again. Blood once again stained Fanboy's costume, neon mixing with crimson. The pain he was in was indescribable.
"He's had enough, Blake!" Someone called out, and Blake glared at the caller: a petite blonde.
"No way I'm going to stop! He deserves this!" The teen replied sharply.
Fanboy began sobbing, not even caring that he looked so stupid or helpless. He just wanted to go home! Unfortunately, his crying drew the attention of the teenager away from the blonde. "S-STOP HURTING ME…!" He cried, struggling with all his might to get away from the older male. He flailed his arms helplessly, screaming, "PLEASE! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!"
"Hold on, Fanboy! We're coming!" Out of the corner of his eye, Fanboy saw Marsha and Yo still struggling to get to him, but were being held back by what looked like Blake's friends. Another punch tore his attention away from the girls.
"S-STOP IT! STOP IT STOP IT! STOP IT!" Fanboy screamed. Blake paid no attention. He twisted Fanboy's arm until he heard it crack, causing some students to retch in disgust, and some to shout approval. White, hot pain, traveled through Fanboy's arm, and he let out irrepressible gasps of agony.
Blake, with a sadistic grin, gripped Fanboy's shoulders, still hovering over him, and began kneeing him in between the legs. A soft crunch followed after the first knee and Fanboy moaned as it continued. The teenager even began yanking at the younger one's hair, just anything he could do to torture the boy. Gripping both sides of Fanboy's skull with his hands, Blake began slamming his head into the ground, over and over and over…
"BLAKE! STOP! You're KILLING HIM!" A brunette girl yelled. Someone in the audience was crying.
Blake glanced over to the girl, and then back at the crying, bloody lump he had beaten. He grinned and Fanboy merely continued to sob, curling up into a little ball.
"Fine, he's not worth my time." He got up and started to walk away, but then he stopped and glanced back at Fanboy. "But he makes a hell of a good punching bag!" Fanboy didn't reply, and Blake shrugged and walked away, the crowd parting for him like Moses and the Red Sea.
Blake's friends let Yo and Marsha run over to Fanboy, and trailed after Blake. The rest of the patients began to file out too, and soon, the three were alone. Yo leaned over Fanboy, and began wiping the blood off of his face. "Marsha? Get me a rag from the belt!" Marsha nodded and sped off, leaving Yo alone with Fanboy, who was still crying.
"Shhhh," Yo soothed. As gently as she could, she lifted Fanboy's head and placed it on her lap, not caring if the blood stained her clothes, and obviously forgetting that she had wanted Fanboy to stay away from her. "It's going to be okay, Fanboy. It's going to be okay…" She smoothed his hair down and brushed it out of his eyes.
"Y-Y-YO!" He sobbed hysterically. "I'm s-s-sorry I l-landed o-on you!" At first, she didn't know what he was talking about, and then it clicked.
"It's okay," She whispered sympathetically, "I overreacted. I'm sorry."
As he continued to cry, Marsha finally brought back a damp washrag, and handed it to Yo, and she began to dab the blood off of Fanboy's face as gently as she could. Marsha held his hand tenderly in hers.
At that moment, Elliot walked out of the rest room. "Whoo! That was a long-!" He stopped short and stared at the three children. "HOLY SMOKES! WHAT HAPPENED?!" Elliot sprinted over to the kids and knelt down beside Fanboy.
Marsha said somberly, "Blake Hartwell pulverized him."
Elliot looked intently at her in shock. "Blake did this?"
Marsha shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "Blake does it all the time. Of coursssse, you are never here where you are suppossssed to be."
Elliot ignored her comment and inspected Fanboy's injuries. Carefully, the man picked up Fanboy and began carrying him bridal-style out of the cafeteria.
Yo looked after them anxiously. "Is, is he going to be alright?" She called out. Elliot pushed one of the double doors open with his hip. He gave Yo a half smile and asked, "Physically or emotionally?" And then he left.
"Both?" Yo called out sheepishly, and she glanced at Marsha, who was looking down at her in suspicion.
"You know, I'd never thought that I would be so happy to see him alive."
Yo sighed.
"Hey," Marsha asked, "What are you two doing at this place?"
Yo shook her head. "I tried to help Fanboy. Now I have problems."