I woke up that morning and went to the bathroom. My eyes were bloodshot from crying my-self to sleep the past three nights. It hadn't been that long since Stacey was first taken, but to me it seemed like an eternity. I should have known there was something wrong with her that day, I just didn't realize it until she tried to kill all of us. All of us being the Animorphs and our families who are also Animorphs. I hated myself for not knowing the truth! I wanted so bad to rip that slug out of her skull that every time I fight against her I lose control and go into a killing frenzy hoping that when I came to my senses she would be lying among the carnage. But she always manages to survive and get away. Why did it have to happen to her? I splashed my face with cold water and took a bottle out of the medicine cabinet. My dad would kill me if he found out I was hiding Prozac, Zanex and Valium. I was slowly becoming an addict from my depression.
I couldn't focus in school (whenever I actually went) and spent most
of my time flying or walking in the woods. My grades were beginning to
drop past the point of failing. Dad would send me to see a counsellor but
I always refused to talk about my problem and when Dad asked me what was
wrong I'd blow up in his face. Every other time I would sit in my room
and stare off into space, visit my own world, one where everything was
the way it used to be.
"Jason?"
"What?"
Nicole stepped inside my room and sat down on the bed beside me. "What's
the matter with you? You haven't been yourself lately," she said.
"I have my reasons," I told her.
"You're not the only one who lost a mother and sister. There are others
in this family."
"What family? We don't have a family anymore!"
"Well sitting around wallowing in self-pity isn't helping to get Stacey
back. You're the leader now, the team needs you."
"Then I suggest you find someone else. I can't take the pressure. I've
had it."
She got up and slammed my door behind her. I lay back on my bed looking
up at the ceiling. Why was it up to me to lead everyone? Why don't they
just do things on their own without me? I know I wasn't the only one that
lost two special people in my life but I couldn't take it any longer. I
was sick of life. Of living. My mom wasn't coming back and there was no
way to save Stacey. We've tried and failed. I started thinking of ways
to end my life. An overdose, bullet to the head. So many options. I swatted
at the fly buzzing around my head as I swallowed another Zanex and went
to bed. It was the weekend so it didn't matter how long I slept. I had
the dream of Stacey's capture again. We were fighting a group of alien
iguanas and she was taken inside the ship. By the time we found her she
was unconscious and strapped to an autopsy table and had already been infested
by Visser One.
She kidnapped all of our parents and had beaten the ones that were
Animorphs. But what she did to Dad was far worse than any of the other's
beatings. Nearly every bone in his body had been broken and dislocated
and his teeth were ripped out with a pair of pliers. It was a very disgusting
sight to behold, except maybe to the visser, who seemed very pleased. They
were freed, and thanks to morphing, healed of all the injuries inflicted
upon them. Except for Tobias who had to heal over a period of three months
because he lost his power when he trapped himself in human morph. Then
I saw Mom's funeral. Stacey was there, though she wasn't under Visser One's
control, there were Controllers guarding her. I flashed back to the viewing
the day before. I sat in the church next to Dad and Nicole. They were both
crying. Cheyenne sat on the other side of me holding my hand and leaning
against my shoulder. Everyone else was there as well.
After the eulogy I stood up and went over to the coffin. As I leaned
over to kiss my mom on the forehead I noticed that it wasn't my mom lying
in the copper box. It was me. I sat straight up in bed. Cold sweat was
running down my forehead and the back of my neck. The glowing numbers on
my clock read four o'clock in the morning. I tried to get back to sleep
but couldn't. Was that a vision of the fate that awaited me? I would soon
find out.