Back with a vengeance, it's the musical that ruins all other musicals! Well...perhaps not, but it is back for continuation. A note to all my loyal "Stuck" readers, the nastiest bitch that could ever strike a writer has taken a bite of me...that writer's block. So, I have to finish my large Lit paper is weekend but I'm going to try and revive "Stuck" and have a new chapter soon. So, thanks for sticking with me and my spastically updated stories.

Chapter Six

Tod

Alex had spent the remainder of afternoon and much of the evening inside the protection of his room, ignoring his mother's requests for him to come down to eat dinner and his father's offering to talk in favor of pouring over the many books he had checked out from the library about plane explosions and disastrous predictions. So far, he had found nothing useful, nothing that would tell him just why he had suffered his vision of the plane explosion and, more importantly, why it had actually come true. Was it possible that he had seen the future? That idea was becoming less and less strange to Alex.

With a sigh, Alex set down the book that he had been flipping through and glanced out the window, studying the branches that quivered in the slight breeze. The world outside seemed completely separate from the one that he seemed to live in now, it was the world he had used to know, the one he understood. Now all he saw were things he didn't understand, things he wanted to understand; now he saw only Death.

No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man behind blue eyes. No one knows what it's like to be hated, to be faded, to telling only lies. But my dreams, they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, my love is vengeance, that's never free. Alex sang.

No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings, like I do. No one bites back as hard on their anger, none of my pain can show through. But my dreams, they aren't as empty, as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, my love is vengeance. That's never free.

No one knows what it's like to be mistreated, to be defeated behind blue eyes. And no one knows how to say that they're sorry, and don't worry, I'm not telling lies. But my dreams they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, my love is vengeance, that's never free. No one knows to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes.

A breeze rippled through Alex's bedroom, gently caressing his cheek, causing him to shudder slightly. The newspaper that lay upon his dusk fluttered as well, drawing his attention to the printed pages; the headline caught his head and he reached forward to pick it up, studying the print. Memorial Service for Students Held Today, the block letters read, hovering above a black and white photo of Clear, staring forlornly in front of her, the white rose she had given Alex held between her fingers. Sighing, Alex set the paper aside once more and leaned forward to switch on his fan, hoping that circulating the stale air would help him recollect his thoughts.

Instead, the air simply drew his attention back to the newspaper and, more specifically the photo of Clear. Alex didn't know why, but Clear had been in his head almost as much as the events in the air port; though he tried to deny it, it was impossible to push aside the way he felt a certain connection to her that he couldn't explain. He saw it in her eyes as well, had heard it in her voice when she had thanked him for saving her life. Clear felt the connection as well.

Alex picked up the paper once more, studying the article intently, as though the tiny print would somehow solve all of his problems. Alex jumped a good five inches when something heavy slammed into his window; heart race quickening and breath coming quicker, he slowly turned to regard whatever nightmare had crashed against the glass, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was nothing more then an owl.

The owl remained outside of his window, no doubt perching on the trellis, studying him with his large, golden eyes. Feeling a sudden burst of anger, Alex hurled the newspaper at the window, hoping to frighten the giant bird away; the paper, however, never made it to the window but instead got caught in the blades of his rotating fan.

The thin paper wrapped around the spinning blades, shredding and floating out of the grille and toward the floor. Alex watched the pieces as they swirled around, frowning at the mess he would have to clean up later on. His frowned deepened, however, when one of the papers landed upon his knee.

Feeling the same sense of foreboding that he had felt in the air port, Alex picked the shred off his knee and turned it around to look at the other side. His heart, which had finally slowed, began to quicken once again as he saw the single word printed upon the scrap: Tod.

* * *

The Wagner household was silent aside from the football game buzzing from inside the living. Tod appreciated the silence, for once, because it meant that his parents were asleep or, for once, not grieving over the loss of their eldest son. Though his missed his brother, Tod sometimes wondered if his parents forgot that they had another son.

Tod shut the bathroom door behind him, sighing as he studied the bathroom that his mother had decorated when they had moved in ten years ago. Not a single thing about it had changed, not even the rubber duck and beaded octopus that rested upon a wicker shelf.

Tod crossed over to the sink, regarding himself in the mirror and running his fingers along his smooth chin. Spying George's razor, still lying on the countertop where he had laid it before leaving for the airport, he picked it up and ran it along his chin, though he knew he had nothing to shave. The blades nicked his skin, leaving a bloody patch and Tod decided that he'd shave a little later on.

The silence of the house was beginning to become too much for him, making it too easy to remember George and what had happened in the airport. He was trying not to blame Alex for not being able to save his brother, trying to remind himself that, if not for Alex, then he would be dead as well. But when it was completely silent, it was hard for him to keep those things in mind.

Tod reached for the plug of his portable radio and inserted it in the outlet, hoping to take up some of the silence that way. "Colorado rocky mountain high..." Remembering the John Denver song from the airport, Tod quickly yanked the cord out of the wall, chuckling slightly.

With his mind occupied on shaving and the songs on the radio, Tod didn't notice that the toilet was beginning to drip, leaking water upon the floor. The miniature river was beginning to creep silently across the tiles toward Tod's feet, pooling behind him. With a final look in the mirror, Tod turned away and headed toward the bathtub; the water turned as well, snaking after him,

Tod pushed back the shower curtain and frowned when he saw that his mother had left her bras and pantyhose hanging on the clothes line to dry. He pulled the garments off and set them aside on the toilet, stepping back to grab the shampoo off the whicker self. As he stepped backward, his foot slipped on the pool of liquid that had been lying in wait behind him, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward. The clothes line wrapped around Tod's neck, tightening as he fell into the bathtub; Tod wrapped his fingers around the line in an attempt to pull it from around his neck but was unable to do such a thing. His feet, wet from the water, were unable to get a firm purchase on the bottom of the tub, leaving him flailing around.

Tod opened his mouth to call for help but the cord tightened, cutting off his air supply and leaving his gaping like a fish out of water. He gave up trying to pull the line from around his neck and, spotting the clippers that were used to trim nose hairs on the shelf, began to strain to reach those. The blood vessels in his eyes popped as he contained to struggle; Tod tried to pull in breathes but found himself unable to do so.

The clippers were out of reach, so Tod went back to trying to pull the cord away from his skin. With a final jerk, Tod went slack, his arms slumping at his sides, body going limp in the wire, motionless.

The water began to trickle backward toward the toilet, disappearing and leaving Tod alone in silence was more.

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Just a little side note about Alex's song in this chapter, he really does have beautiful blue eyes...does he not?