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Maybe I'll wake up for once


Not tormented daily defeated by you


Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom


I'm dying again

-- Evanescence

"Going Under"

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Flashbacks, Chapter Two

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His back aflame with tenderness, Todd Casil bit his lip and took in a breath to avoid screaming further. Pain, he had learned, was synonymous with life.

"It does not have to be this way. Your parents are wrong – they hate you."

"Shmee, you're wrong. My parents don't hate me. Parents are not supposed to hate their kids, remember?"

"They tried to put you in an asylum when you were younger."

"They took me out two years later. They wanted me back."

"No they didn't. They took you back because they had to, Todd. Don't you understand? They'd kill you if they were anything like your neighbor. You'd be better off somewhere else."

"Johnny doesn't want to kill me." God DAMMIT, this is driving me fuckin' crazy, Todd thought, and another thought occurred to him: Is this how Johnny went crazy? Talking teddy bears and voices in his head? Hearing "voices" is a sure sign of insanity, isn't it?

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Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap

"Hmm?" Squee said aloud. He had learned at the tender age of six to keep his window unlocked – living next to a homicidal neighbor was scary, having me entering the house was worse, but it was unnecessary to have me breaking into the house.

The window slid open and I slipped into the room without a sound. I think Squee realized I wasn't going to kill him – in fact, I wasn't even carrying a weapon, for once.

"Squee," I breathed.

"'Nny?" he managed, a shortening of my name that I allowed him to use.

"Hey Squeegee, I heard all that shit going on before…"

The boy winced at the nickname. I guess he felt stupid and weak and young again when he was called Squeegee.

"I understand," I said quickly. "Todd. Look, I heard that all goin' on… are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Todd mumbled, cowering in the corner of his room. "I'm fine…of course."

"Then get back to bed, kiddo," I said with a wide grin. "I was hearing things again…"

As he reached to pick up the boy and carry him to his bed (I knew it would make him feel stupid and weak and young again but I had to test a theory) … he gasped as my hands gripped his back and I proved my theory. "You're not okay."

"I know," he whispered. "Please don't hurt my parents, 'Nny, they didn't mean it."

I was sure they did mean it. "I came after it was over. I didn't want to scare you. Can I take you back to my place for a little? I think I have some stuff to patch you up…"

He gave a weird little stare, which would have made me smile in a different circumstance. "You only hurt people, 'Nny."

"I haven't hurt you," I replied, climbing out his window and beckoning for him to follow.


I heard him whisper "Yet" before he was climbing out himself.