Chapter 5: A Family to Call My Own

A few days later, I got a message saying that Mr. Cutler requested my attendance at a meeting of his, a very important meeting. It was to be this Friday. So I prepared myself for whatever the purpose of this meeting would be-whether Bill would accept or reject me-running longer and more vigorously, getting my hair trimmed once more (already it was growing!) and trying my hardest to keep up on my sleep. Unfortunately, this new excitement kept me up even more, for my mind constantly whirred with ideas and thoughts about the meeting's purpose. I couldn't wait until Friday; I wanted to know what Bill wanted to say to me so badly!

Eventually Friday came after many hours of suffering in anticipation, hours of not sleeping in curiousity. And when Friday came, I was sick. The day before I had gotten some serious sunburn, and then that night I couldn't keep any food down. And surely enough, today I couldn't move a muscle without vomiting up something. So I called for someone to give a message to Mr. Cutler. I told them to tell him that I was much too sick to leave my room, much less the hotel, and that I had to regretfully cancel my presence at the meeting. The woman who had come up for the message nodded understandingly and left the room. I sighed, discusted at myself for getting so sick, for having to stay here and miss that meeting I had been so anxious to attend.

I waited for a bit to see if a message would return, but I accidentally fell asleep, tired from the constant vomiting I had to endure when I reached over for the glass of ginger ale a hotel employee had brought up for me. And of course, like all people do when they fall asleep, I dreamt.

I dreamt about my mother coming back for me, about her new husband accepting me as his son, meeting mr and taking me to ball games like and normal father and son. I dreamt about my past, my mother's rare kind words and gestures, her smile, her laugh…everything that had seemed so trivial, so venial…it all came back to me. And with every memory, my anger rose in waves. Eventually, I got so angry that I tried to get up from the bed I was confined in, tried to overcome my sickness to go out and search for my mother. I overexherted myself so much that I began to throw up, each heave sapping my strength, all my energy…and then with the vomit came blood, lots and lots of blodd. Pouring from my body, shrinking my heart, my lungs, every one of my internal organs shriveled up and faded until I was nothing but a skeleton, still spewing endless vomit mixed with blood, torturing my skeletal frame with each heave. And then ghosts came, the spirits of pale women, women that looking familiar to me-they were the women I once toyed with until I grew tired of them-came, and the chants began. They danced and sang-in Latin, in French, in Japanese, in English…in every language there was. My body began to break apart as they chanted, and blood rushed out even more, torturing me even more harshly. And the chants grew louder and louder, more of me crumbled, more blood came out. The agony grew and grew so much that I opened my skeletal mouth and screamed-a silent scream. My quickly evanescencing throat was no longer able to support sound, and I fell apart from the strain of that very same throat…I screamed again, the sound coming out this time, so loud and overpowering that a liquid sprung up from my throat-a very familiar liquid by this time-blood. I quickly sat up and spewed into the surprisingly empty bucket next to the bed, then I gfazed down at myself. It was all a dream…I still had my skin, my hair, my clothes…and that horrible chanting was gone. I was safely tucked into bed.

I lay back on the pillow, panting.

(What was that dream…? Why did I have it? Was it to tell me something?)

"Are you alright?" A voice asked. I jumped, surprised to hear another voice in the room. I turned my head towards the source of the sound.

"Did you have a bad dream?" The shadowed figure in the corner asked me.

"…Yes." I cautiously gazed into the shadows, unsure as to who the person was. It was a man's voice speaking to me…

(I had…a very bad dream. But a dream was all that it was…and I'm glad it's over.)

The person got up from the chair they had been sitting on, walking over to my bed. It was Bill!

He put a hand on my forehead, smiling.

"I apologize for my ignorance upon our meeting. I was unsure…you must realize and understand, it's not everytday that someone resembling myself comes in claiming to be my son. I was…a little uneasy." He admitted. "I've talked to my wife about you. Apparently, she knows you."

"She does?"

"Yes. Her name is Lillian." He told me.

(Lillian? Oh…that woman from the pool. She had a little boy with her…Randall. I guess…that he's my stepbrother.)

"Oh, yes. Now I remember."

"We have a son named Randolph. He is 13."

"I met him too."

"Yes."

I tried to think of something to say, but my head still spun…so madly my world was twirling about…

"So…" Bill sat down on the edge of the bed and I shifted over to give him room. "How has…your life gone up until now?"

(Does he remember my mother now?)

"…Well…" I stuttered, unable to think of a suitable explanation.

(How can he just…simply ask that question…after so long…?)

"…It has gone all right…up until my mother left, of course…" I finally managed to say. His bright blue eyes bore a hole into my skull. I wanted him to leave…

"How old are you?" He asked.

"16, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir if you don't want to. Bill is fine."

"…If you say so."

"Did your mother date or marry after you were born?" Bill asked.

"She dated all right…but she never married. She couldn't stay with one man long…sorry to say. Which is why I was so shocked to learn that she was getting married…to a man I don't know, even."

"Yes…" He seemed uncomfortable with the subject of my mother now. Did he finally remember who she was? I got a subtle hint to change the subject when Bill removed his hand from my forehead and turned away.

"16…" He was muttering to himself. "It's been that long already…?"

"Sir-uh…Bill-does your wife know that I am…?" I assumed he knew the conclusion to my question.

"No. She thinks that you are the son of my brother, that you were sent here because of his current financial problem."

"What about our resemblance to each other?"

"He is my twin, so it is likely that he would have a son who resembled me."

"You really have a twin?"

"…I did. He died at childbirth. But Lillian doesn't know that, and she never will, hear?" He looked sternly at me, his magnificent blue eyes blazing and narrowing. I nodded innocently, coughing.

"Well…I've got another business meeting tomorrow, so I must pack." He started to climb up from the bed.

"Wait." I said. He paused, not bothering to turn to me. I sensed I had his attension and so I continued. "What about the meeting today? What was it for?"

"Oh…I just wanted to formally introduce you to my wife and child. They wanted to…welcome you to the family." He smiled, and I grinned as well. Then he waved a quick goodbye and left, closing the hotel door behind him. I was left alone, but now I wasn't completely alone-I now had a loving family to call my own.

Author's Notes: Wow…this chapter seemed to take forever! Anyway, so I don't know how long it will take to put the 6th chapter up…I've been working on many things, including yet another Camui Gackt songfic and various Final Fantasy stories. So I am sorry…this might not be updated in a while,

Alright then…I hope you enjoyed this chapter!