Huey took a breath. He didn't know why he was nervous or what he was doing. All he knew is that he's visiting Uncle Scrooge. But, what for? He didn't know.
Walking down the familiar hall, he made his way towards Scrooge's office. He knocked and waited for an answer. He stood there in the hall, not moving an inch, staring at the door and waiting for Scrooge to open it or say, "come in."
While he was waiting, he couldn't help but feel something was wrong. A chill ran down his spine as he felt the temperature drop. He looked below him and saw something black wrapped itself around his leg.
He let out a scream that echoed through the empty hall. He turned around with the thought of its source behind him. But he found nothing. He looked at his foot again and it was normal. Everything was normal. Maybe it was just his imagination. "Come in," Scrooge permitted.
Disregarding the event that happened, Huey opened the door and saw Scrooge facing the wall. He stood tall and intimidating, and Huey suddenly felt small. It was as if the world around him grew bigger while he stayed small. Small Huey.
"What is it, lad?" Scrooge asked, not bothering to face the little duck who came to visit him. What was Huey going to ask again? He forgot. But that didn't stop the words to spill from his mouth as if he just memorized a script. "Do you want to hang out? You know... Just you and me!" Huey requested, his voice peppy and full of hope.
Scrooge was silent, once again. Huey patiently awaited his reply, like a good boy. Scrooge then spoke, "hang out? Why would I want to hang with you?"
Huey was confused. "What?" he asked. "I said..." Scrooge said, his voice laced with coldness, it made Huey shiver. He turned around and faced Huey, showing him his angry eyes filled with a black substance. Not a single color was reflected. "Why would I want to hang with you?" Scrooge repeated. Huey felt smaller than ever.
He backed away, his back pressed on the door. "But... But..." Huey stuttered, looking at the tall man that was towering over him. He felt like a child. He felt like a baby. "I'm a good boy..." He answered.
"Hah! Good boy?!" Scrooge's voice boomed in the small room that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller by the second. He felt like he was suffocating, and Scrooge's mocking voice was not helping. It made it worse. Scrooge pointed his cane at Huey and said, "you are no good boy! You are just a rat living in my house! Eating my food!"
Scrooge's words hurt. It felt like a million bees are stinging his heart repeatedly. He wanted to cry but he can't. Not here, not now.
Scrooge's mouth opened and water started to drip from his mouth as he insulted the boy clad in red. As Scrooge said more insults, the pace of the water became faster and faster until it was falling like a waterfall. It filled the room rapidly. Huey tried to open the door, but it won't budge. He was locked inside. Huey kept trying, pushing and pulling the handles of the door, but it will not move. The water rose quickly until it was higher than Huey's waistline.
As the water rose, Scrooge roared insults and mockery about Huey.
"You dumb pain in the neck!"
"Stupid rules! Stupid Huey!"
"Your mom didn't even want you! Why would I want you?"
"Please! Stop!" Huey pleaded as the water lifted him until he could touch the ceiling. The water didn't stop, and neither did Scrooge's insults.
"The child'll never learn."
"You're a burden!"
"Never'll be a McDuck! Never!"
Huey took a large breath as the water rose to the ceiling. As the water consumed the room, Huey was left floating. Uncle Scrooge disappeared, but his insults still rung in his head, like a broken tape recorder.
Huey closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear them. He tried to cover his ears, but it only made it worse. The voices screamed, trying to gain Huey's attention. He tried to tell them to stop but he was underwater. He can't speak. He can barely breathe.
He opened his eyes, but there was nothing but the color blue. Blue of nothingness. He looked up and saw a bright white light. He pushed his limbs and swam up towards the light. What is it? Is it land?
He kept swimming, but the further he got, the colder it was. Hi limbs started to shake, but he continues odd; his determination overshadowing his fate to die of hyperthermia and/or drowning.
Something grabbed Huey's ankle, shocking him and halting him from swimming further. He looked down and saw a black tentacle and it started pulling him down. He tried to swim, but he can't pull out from its grip. Without any other action nor choice, he opened his mouth. He screamed for help but his cries were only gurgled as the water entered his body. His eyes blurred as water filled his lungs. With one last breath, he said, "I'm sorry."
Huey gasped for air. He uncovered his legs with the cloth that was covering him. He was relieved to see nothing out of the ordinary with his lower half. No tentacle, no black markings. Just his legs. He sighed in relief. He looked around, looking for any dark shadow or glowing eyes or big Scrooge but there was nothing. He was just there on his bed in his room with his brothers sleeping below him.
He sighed again, feeling the relief and exhaustion loom over him. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. Not anymore after that nightmare. He felt around his bed and felt his sweat from where he slept. He cringed in disgust as he inched away. He looked around his room and found himself gazing out of the window where the sun was starting to shine.
It was a beautiful sight, but somehow, it discouraged Huey. He quietly climbed down from his bed, trying not to wake his brothers. He tiptoed to his closet and took out his outfit for the day which was his signature red shirt and hat. He tiptoed to the doorway and silently exited his room.
There in the halls, the cold morning air rushed in. He shivered and felt a sense of déjà vu. He crept through the halls, trying not to wake the others up as he made his way to the bathroom. There, he washed the icky feeling of sweat.
As the shower poured water on his body, he can't help but feel violated, scared. His mind flashed images of the blue nothingness, his feathers recalling the feeling of the cold water in the depths of the sea, the possibility of not being able to see what was coming or what was happening because you are blinded by your panic.
He turned the water of the shower a bit hotter, trying to remind himself that he wasn't underwater... He wasn't under cold blue nothingness...
He recalled his dream. He only remembers bits and pieces, but some important fragments stuck with him. Scrooge, drowning, and black tentacles; tentacles that pulled him deeper into the blue abyss until blue faded into black.
Since his first visit to his Uncle Fethry, he felt unease being below a huge body of water for a period of time. He didn't want to tell his family members in fear of spoiling their underwater adventures. All he needed to do was to sit far from the window.
He sighed, thinking that this was a waste of time. He didn't need to overthink something as irrelevant as a dream. It was just what it was; a dream.
Huey exited the bathroom with fresh new clothes and non-sticky and non-smelly feathers. He put a smile up front, repeating over and over in his head that it will be a good morning, a good day. But as always, there will always be that little voice in the back of his head, screaming all of his doubts and pointing out the lies he is telling himself. Huey tried his best to ignore the voice as he made his way downstairs to the kitchen.
He arrived in the kitchen and saw that Mrs. Beakley was already working. "Oh. Good morning, Huey," she greeted which Huey returned with a polite greeting of his own. "You woke up earlier than usual," Bentina commented, "is something on your mind?"
Huey slightly flinched at the question, but he tried his best to control his body language. "No," he smoothly lied, "everything's fine!"
Mrs. Beakley knew he was lying, but she didn't press on. "If you say so," she said. "I'll get started on breakfast. You go along now and don't disturb me." Huey nodded obediently and left the room.
Huey wandered through the familiar halls of the manor, almost memorized by now. Passing by a familiar hall, he stopped and stared at the portrait of Scrooge McDuck sitting in a pile of gold that he rightfully earned through hard work and smarts. That much fame, recognition, and riches is something Huey will never compete with, even if he worked his hardest and solved the trickiest of puzzles. He'll never size up to Scrooge. All he'll ever be is his troublesome nephew.
"Huey?" Donald's squawk made the red-clad duck broke his train of thought. He turned to see his parental figure in a suit. That was rare. Where was he going?
"What are you doing here so early?" Donald asked as he approached the small duck. Huey rubbed his arm, a nervous habit he recently developed. He replied, "nothing important..." Huey avoided eye contact, which was how Donald knew something was wrong.
Donald sighed. He patted Huey's shoulder and smiled; a smile Huey always seemed comforted by. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anything," Donald said, "and it's okay for you to tell me what's bothering you. If you have anything that's on your mind, you can tell me."
Huey was tempted, but he shook his head. He didn't want Uncle Donald to look at him as some helpless child. Does he look at him like that? He doesn't know but he doesn't want him to start. He removed his hand from his shoulder and smiled at his uncle. "It's okay, Uncle Donald," Huey lied, "I'm fine."
"Now, tell me what's the special occasion," Huey quickly changed the topic, gesturing to Donald's new attire. Donald mentally sighed. He can't press Huey when these kinds of matters are brought. He let it slide and will wait until Huey's ready for him.
"I'm getting a job!" Donald replied enthusiastically, playing along with the duck clad in red. "I thought of making my own money rather than depending on Scrooge. I have Daisy to thank for. She got me this interview," Donald shared, with utmost excitement. Huey felt belittled as his uncle talked about how he will finally have work and how he'll be independent. Will Huey reach that success one day?
"That sounds all exciting, Uncle Donald!" Huey said, being proud of his uncle which is what a good boy is supposed to do. "So, have you had breakfast yet?" Huey asked.
Donald nodded his head. "My interview is at 9," Donald informed. "Then you should get going!" Huey urged as he dragged his uncle to the door.
"Bye, Uncle Donald! Good luck!" Huey said as he waved goodbye to the car that was exiting McDuck Manor.
Huey watched as the car left his sight. Uncle Donald's doing something with his life and he wasn't. He's just sitting here in the manor, lazing around and being a "bossy know-it-all" to his brothers. He needs to find something to do. He'll start with something simple. But what could Huey do that Mrs. Beakley will permit?