Prolouge to Me: Zeke's Story
A/N: I'm back and better than ever! I've been sick for a few months, not really myself, and haven't written a word. But I'm feeling better and my fingers are flying! Expect to see updates on most stories (including the conclusion of my other Faculty fic). As always, let me know what you think with reviews, they are a huge asset! (Can you tell I'm in accounting class?)
My father never really liked me. I don't know if Nick even loved me, he mostly just tolerated me. And I think that's because Nicole made him. I realized at a young age that 'Daddy has to much work to play' or 'Daddy's to tired' meant that Daddy didn't want to hang around his son at all.
Nicole tried to make up for it, and I know she did, by showering me with love. But when Nick got that second promotion, suddenly little Zeke didn't mean as much as Daddy Warbucks. I remember the when he got the promotion, the huge party my parents threw. It was an absolute nightmare, at least for me. I mean, six years old and at a party with a bunch of adults. Booring.
Mom appointed me as the official greeter, but I think it was to get me out of her hair. I had trailed after her the whole day, whining about the party as she had cleaned and cooked. I can't blame her really, I can get really annoying. But that's not the point. She didn't have to torture me by making me welcome everyone! Do you know how horrible it is to have everyone pinch your cheeks or ruffle your hair, saying how handsome you are in your little suit? Let me tell you, it's pure evil.
I opened the door, welcomed my parent's guests for half an hour before wandering off for more exciting things. I squeezed my way between groups of businessmen chatting about stocks and women speaking of the latest fashions. I also sidestepped many more cheek pinchers, under the pretense of looking for my father. At last, I found my way to the food table, my eyes widening at the sight of so many appetizers lay out before me. I immediately raced to grab a plate, piling it hide with whatever I could reach. I then trooped over to a corner to eat my cheese, crackers, clams and oysters.
I'm allergic to oysters.
It took me fifteen minutes to realize that. A rash broke out across the back of my hands the same time my stomach flopped unnaturally about. I staggered over to Nick while clutching my stomach, fighting the growing sense of nausea. "Daddy," I moaned, tugging on his pant leg, "I don't feel good." Nick glared down at me after shooting his small audience an apologetic glace. He moved his wine glass to the other hand, "Not now, Zeke. Can't you see I'm busy talking?"
"But I really don't feel good." I said, nearly doubling over from the pain in my stomach. The rash was spreading up my arms, an itchy trail I couldn't scratch away. Nick grunted; "Go to bed then." He pulled his leg away from my grip, turning his attention to his guests and completely ignoring his soon. I swayed on the spot uncertainly, tears welling in my eyes. I brushed them away, telling myself that I was crying from the pain in my stomach, not in my heart; either way, boys aren't suppose to cry.
I figured my mother was to busy entertaining as well, and promptly went out the front door. No one stopped me, asked where I was going or my face had swollen, red in color. I don't remember much of my walk, just staring down at the sidewalk while concentrating on not throwing up or fainting. I managed to make it to Allie's house, ring the doorbell while resting my fevered head against the door. Allie's older brother Todd answered the door, "Zeke? Hey, you don't look good."
"I don't feel good," I replied, and then promptly fell over.
I awoke later on laying on Allie's couch. The girl flitted about my feet like a faerie, constantly badgering me with questions, taking my hand and squeezing it. Jessica perched by my head to press a cold compress against it, softly asking how I felt. I told her I felt awful and thought I was going to die. Allie started to scream, yelling at Todd to call an ambulance and the army. Jessica hushed her daughter by sending her to get me a glass of water before turning to me.
"Zeke, look at me. Is there a party over at your house?"
"Uh-huh. Am I dying?"
"No sweetheart, I think you're just having an allergic reaction. Did you eat something at the party?"
"Yeah, lots of stuff. Cheese, crackers, something called clams that tasted weird."
Jessica nodded thoughtfully, brushing strands of hair from my eyes, "That's probably what made you sick. I'm going to give you some medicine that should make you feel better, all right? Swallow it all." She pushed a spoonful of awful tasting goop in my mouth, then handed me a glass of water that Allie had brought out. I guzzled it down, then lay back down on the pillows, yanking the blanket over myself.
Jessica stood, bottle of medicine in one hand, empty glass in the other. "Does Nicole know you're here?"
"No, she wanted to talk to all the people. So did Dad, I don't think he wanted me there."
A frown creased the woman's forehead, but she quickly fronted a smile. "Well, we want you here, don't we Allie? You get some rest now Zeke, you'll feel better soon. Nurse Allie, you're in charge of the patient."
"Okay Doctor Mom!" The girl chirped, glancing happily at me. I managed a weak smile, curling my body up. Allie climbed on the couch beside me, patted my hand, "You sleep, okay? I'll read you a story." She pulled out The Ugly Duckling, propping it open on her knees. "Once upon a time, there was a bunch of birds."
I didn't hear anything else, fast asleep long before the ending of the book.
A/N: I'm back and better than ever! I've been sick for a few months, not really myself, and haven't written a word. But I'm feeling better and my fingers are flying! Expect to see updates on most stories (including the conclusion of my other Faculty fic). As always, let me know what you think with reviews, they are a huge asset! (Can you tell I'm in accounting class?)
My father never really liked me. I don't know if Nick even loved me, he mostly just tolerated me. And I think that's because Nicole made him. I realized at a young age that 'Daddy has to much work to play' or 'Daddy's to tired' meant that Daddy didn't want to hang around his son at all.
Nicole tried to make up for it, and I know she did, by showering me with love. But when Nick got that second promotion, suddenly little Zeke didn't mean as much as Daddy Warbucks. I remember the when he got the promotion, the huge party my parents threw. It was an absolute nightmare, at least for me. I mean, six years old and at a party with a bunch of adults. Booring.
Mom appointed me as the official greeter, but I think it was to get me out of her hair. I had trailed after her the whole day, whining about the party as she had cleaned and cooked. I can't blame her really, I can get really annoying. But that's not the point. She didn't have to torture me by making me welcome everyone! Do you know how horrible it is to have everyone pinch your cheeks or ruffle your hair, saying how handsome you are in your little suit? Let me tell you, it's pure evil.
I opened the door, welcomed my parent's guests for half an hour before wandering off for more exciting things. I squeezed my way between groups of businessmen chatting about stocks and women speaking of the latest fashions. I also sidestepped many more cheek pinchers, under the pretense of looking for my father. At last, I found my way to the food table, my eyes widening at the sight of so many appetizers lay out before me. I immediately raced to grab a plate, piling it hide with whatever I could reach. I then trooped over to a corner to eat my cheese, crackers, clams and oysters.
I'm allergic to oysters.
It took me fifteen minutes to realize that. A rash broke out across the back of my hands the same time my stomach flopped unnaturally about. I staggered over to Nick while clutching my stomach, fighting the growing sense of nausea. "Daddy," I moaned, tugging on his pant leg, "I don't feel good." Nick glared down at me after shooting his small audience an apologetic glace. He moved his wine glass to the other hand, "Not now, Zeke. Can't you see I'm busy talking?"
"But I really don't feel good." I said, nearly doubling over from the pain in my stomach. The rash was spreading up my arms, an itchy trail I couldn't scratch away. Nick grunted; "Go to bed then." He pulled his leg away from my grip, turning his attention to his guests and completely ignoring his soon. I swayed on the spot uncertainly, tears welling in my eyes. I brushed them away, telling myself that I was crying from the pain in my stomach, not in my heart; either way, boys aren't suppose to cry.
I figured my mother was to busy entertaining as well, and promptly went out the front door. No one stopped me, asked where I was going or my face had swollen, red in color. I don't remember much of my walk, just staring down at the sidewalk while concentrating on not throwing up or fainting. I managed to make it to Allie's house, ring the doorbell while resting my fevered head against the door. Allie's older brother Todd answered the door, "Zeke? Hey, you don't look good."
"I don't feel good," I replied, and then promptly fell over.
I awoke later on laying on Allie's couch. The girl flitted about my feet like a faerie, constantly badgering me with questions, taking my hand and squeezing it. Jessica perched by my head to press a cold compress against it, softly asking how I felt. I told her I felt awful and thought I was going to die. Allie started to scream, yelling at Todd to call an ambulance and the army. Jessica hushed her daughter by sending her to get me a glass of water before turning to me.
"Zeke, look at me. Is there a party over at your house?"
"Uh-huh. Am I dying?"
"No sweetheart, I think you're just having an allergic reaction. Did you eat something at the party?"
"Yeah, lots of stuff. Cheese, crackers, something called clams that tasted weird."
Jessica nodded thoughtfully, brushing strands of hair from my eyes, "That's probably what made you sick. I'm going to give you some medicine that should make you feel better, all right? Swallow it all." She pushed a spoonful of awful tasting goop in my mouth, then handed me a glass of water that Allie had brought out. I guzzled it down, then lay back down on the pillows, yanking the blanket over myself.
Jessica stood, bottle of medicine in one hand, empty glass in the other. "Does Nicole know you're here?"
"No, she wanted to talk to all the people. So did Dad, I don't think he wanted me there."
A frown creased the woman's forehead, but she quickly fronted a smile. "Well, we want you here, don't we Allie? You get some rest now Zeke, you'll feel better soon. Nurse Allie, you're in charge of the patient."
"Okay Doctor Mom!" The girl chirped, glancing happily at me. I managed a weak smile, curling my body up. Allie climbed on the couch beside me, patted my hand, "You sleep, okay? I'll read you a story." She pulled out The Ugly Duckling, propping it open on her knees. "Once upon a time, there was a bunch of birds."
I didn't hear anything else, fast asleep long before the ending of the book.