Professor's little white car bumped along, speeding away from the Townsville City Hospital and through the busy downtown streets, flooded with harsh white streetlight glow and dancing rainbow lights of neon store signs. The sky was a velvet black curtain crusted with glittering stars, twinkling and dancing like the fairy glitter on Bubbles' Halloween costume. The huge skyscrapers towering high over the roads were sparkling too, as if all of their glowing windows were gems. My window was open a crack, and the cool, fresh night air gusted through it and circled us, ruffling Blossom's ponytail, fluttering Brick's baseball cap, trembling Bubbles' pigtails, and whipping my jet black spikes. Buttercup's short hairdo barely moved at all, and even though I tried to divert my gaze, I found myself staring at the back of her head, feeling hurt that she was sitting clear across the car from me and purposely looking away. The lump hard and tight in my throat, I swiftly turned away and stared out the window, watching some idiots in the beaten pickup next to us that were blasting their tunes, laughing drunkenly, throwing cigarette butts out their windows, and serving dangerously. I recognized the song they were playing as one of the tracks on my party mix, so I concentrated on the music, silently singing along, tapping my hand lightly on the seat in rhythm. As much as I tried to busy my head with other things, the images kept on popping back; Boomer, bloody and mangled on the floor, Buttercup, glaring at me with hatred filled eyes, Dr. Reynolds, openly accusing me of attacking my own brother. I closed my eyes, letting out a shaky breath; stupid, stupid, stupid… I hated Dr. Reynolds; I hated him, I hated him. Stupid arse…
Then my innards twisted uncomfortably; he hadn't been pointing fingers blindly. No matter how stupid Dr. Reynolds was, he had proof, real proof. The handprint…My head spun and I felt hot tears fill my eyes as I fought to keep them in. But it couldn't've been me…I was sure about that. How could somebody do something without knowing they were doing it? My little dumb mind spun helplessly; I was positive I hadn't been prowling around at night, knifing my brother. I'd been sleeping, exhausted in bed…but I had woken up in the kitchen! I wrapped my arms around my knees and curled into a little ball on the car seat, my eye shut so tightly that I started to see colored spots, swirling like fireworks inside my eyelids. None of it made sense; maybe the murderer or whatever had dragged me down to the crime scene after he cut up Boomer, and then pressed my hand to the plate to make it look like I'd done it. My body relaxed, my eyes opening slowly, my limbs loosening a bit, and my mind clearing. Breathing deeply, I let my legs dangle over the edge of the seat, and I gazed out the window again, watching the millions of little stars glitter in the night sky, winking down at me like tiny, sparkling eyes; friendly sparkling eyes. I'd been framed; now that made sense. Too bad nobody believed me. After all, I didn't have any solid evidence to support my theory. Oh, crap… I wished that I was a detective, or somebody who could get me out of this mess; first Buttercup, now Boomer? A shiver ran down my spine, and I tried to ignore it by fixing my gaze firmly on the winking stars.
"P...Professor?" Bubbles' trembling voice broke my train of thought, and it slid off of the tracks and plummeted down into a giant pit, smashing into oblivion at the bottom. "Will…?" She hesitated, and then spoke quickly. "…Will Boomer be ok?"
Professor sighed, worry lines creasing his face in the glow of the streetlights, his gaze still fixed on the road as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"I don't know, sweetie…" he replied softly.
"Don't the doctors know?"
"No they don't. Boomer's in a coma, honey. They just have to support him well and hope he pulls through all right."
I watched Bubbles as she looked toward the ground, tears dripping out of her eyes and shining on her cheeks. Every eye in the car was upon her, with the exception of Professor's, expecting to see an explosion of drama.
"But…but…" Bubbles said softly, and then her voice exploded into a sob choked cry. "...What if he doesn't pull through all right?!"
A chilling silence hovered in the air, disrupted only by Bubbles' fast breathing and choked sobs. Professor sighed again.
"Bubbles, don't worry; he'll be fine."
"But what if he's not?!"
Professor paused and then continued.
"We just have to hope."
Bubbles opened her mouth very slightly, as if she was going to argue, but then she closed it, sniffling and wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Can you hope?"
She sucked in a shaky breath.
"Yes, Professor, I can hope. I'll hope to the end of the world! I'll hope until bunnies don't be cute anymore!"
Professor smiled weakly.
"That's my little Bubbles…"
She beamed through her tears, her eyes shining in the glow of the streetlights.
As silence settled over us, my mind began to spin again. Could I hope? I guess I could…I sure hoped I could get out of this mess. And as I slid into my pajamas and sunk into the warm, soft depths of my bed, I hoped even more, wishing Boomer would sing about Miss Susie's steamboat going to hell. Oh, God, help me…
**********************************
When the alarm clock buzzed at 6:00 sharp, breaking ruthlessly into my peaceful world of slumber, I was jolted back into reality; harsh reality. It was a Tuesday; a school day. School day= boring. Sigh…Well I knew there was no playing hooky, so I dragged my exhausted self out of bed, yawning and struggling to hold open my heavy eyelids. The only one in our bedroom besides me was Blossom; she was already dressed, and was standing in front of the mirror, humming halfheartedly and carefully brushing her silky, red hair, which she hadn't put into a ponytail yet. She heard me coming and turned around, still holding her pink, heart-shaped brush in one hand. Surprisingly, she didn't look at all pleased to be going to school; her face was creased with worry, and her expression looked just as drowsy as mine.
"Oh, hi, Butch." She said, breaking into a weak smile. "Did you sleep ok last night?"
"Not the least bit; unless you count two hours of sleep as 'ok'." I replied. True, true… Blossom sighed.
"Yeah…I didn't think so. I didn't sleep well either. It's been a really long few days for all of us…"
"Does our sibling getting attacked count as an excuse to ditch?"
Blossom gave me an offended look; I was expecting that.
"Of course not…We're not sick or injured ourselves, so we still have to go to school. Don't you value your education at all?"
"I just don't wanna go to school all sleep deprived like this. I mean, I just woke up from an unconsciousness spell last night! And Boomer doesn't have to go to school!"
"Boomer's in a coma." Blossom said firmly, her eyes now narrowed and fixed on mine. "I think being in a deep state of unconsciousness that could possibly leave you dead is a perfectly reasonable excuse to not be in school."
I moaned, rolling my eyes.
"Fine; I'm gonna go get ready."
Muttering under my breath, I stalked over to the dresser, pulled out one of my usual outfits, climbed into the closet, and changed. After I slipped my shirt over my head and tucked it into my pants, I pushed the closet door open and stomped out, scratching my tousled black hair. Blossom was still at the mirror, clipping her shiny, loose hair back with her heart clip, and then pinning her red hair bow onto the top of her head. I watched as she ran a hand through her hair and sighed, then turning around and staring at the huge rat nest on top of my head.
"Do you want me to help untangle that thing?" she asked, trying to be helpful. I scowled; not everyone could have such perfect hair as Blossom. But knowing what horror was in store for me if I tried to fix it alone, I sat down sulkily on the chair in front of the mirror and let Blossom brush the tangled chaos that was my hair. She ran her brush through it like a pro, and in no time, my black hair was straight and shining, drooping in my face in big, floppy spikes. I stared at my reflection in the mirror with my wide emerald eyes as she grabbed a bottle of green hair gel and squeezed some of it into her hand, and then smoothed it into my hair, sculpting it into my usual spiked style. When she was done, she gripped my elbow and pulled me up, shoving me towards the bedroom door. I decided to hold my complaints, to keep my chances of getting another hair styling job like this average, and I flew obediently down to the breakfast table, groaning when I saw what was being served; oatmeal. Disgusting, flavorless sludge that nobody should ever have to eat. But after I saw how gloomy everyone else was, Bubbles, Professor, Brick, and Buttercup, I held my tongue and plopped into my seat, picking up my spoon and jabbing sourly at the junk in my bowl.
The rest of the morning passed painfully silent, as if a huge gray cloud hung over the whole house. I'd never seen a gloomier school morning. Not even Bubbles looked at all pleased to go to school; in fact she was nearly in tears. Brick's expression was oddly blank, and he kept zoning out, bumping into things and muttering random comments under his breath; during breakfast he had stared at the ceiling while trying to cut his toast with a spoon. Blossom and I were the most sane; tired and glum, but at least not acting really out of the ordinary. Buttercup was the most sullen of all, her face set in a vicious scowl, her back kept constantly turned towards me, pretending like I didn't exist. I felt myself being mentally punched in the gut every time I saw this, so I strived to keep my wandering eyes from landing on her, no matter how impossible that task was. Screw screw screw… My face sunk into the meanest scowl I could make, fury burning inside of me; if Buttercup wanted to be an ass, let her.
*****************************
I drifted through the clouds, soaring across the sparkling blue sky like a jet plane, my arms outstretched and the crisp spring wind flowing around me like liquid. As it ruffled my clothes and tousled my spiked hair, I glanced down at the tiny town far below, my eyes shining and my mouth stretched into the widest smile ever seen. I felt so on top of the world, so light, so free… My mouth opened and a whoop of exhilaration spilled out and curled through the balmy, streaming wind as the sun shone down glimmering golden rays that bathed the whole marvelous panorama in warm buttery light. Then suddenly the whole place just went dark, as if the whole world was lit by a light switch that some idiot just turned off. I froze in my tracks, my eyes widening in horror as a faint halo of blood red light rose over the far horizon like a menacing cloud, glowing like a beacon through the heavy blackness that clogged my throat and squeezed my chest. I stared in bewilderment as something else rose up in the red cloud of light; something huge. It towered over the land like a giant, 1000 feet tall, and I suddenly felt like a speck, wanting to get the heck out of there as fast as possible but unable to move an inch. My sanity suddenly left me the instant I realized who the giant was; it was Ms. Keane, glaring down at me with piercing eyes, her hands on her hips and her face eerily lit by the crimson light. I couldn't breathe or make a sound; it was like it was all stuck in a traffic jam in my throat.
"BUTCH!" Ms. Keane suddenly cried, staring down at me, her tone filled with that motherly strict scolding of a bad kid. Something finally escaped from my mouth, and it was a scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
My head jolted upright and my tightly shut eyes flew open, my skin hot and clammy and shiny with sweat. My emerald eyes were wide and hysterical, and they saw Ms. Keane looking disapprovingly down at me; I was back in the classroom again. A groan escaped my mouth.
"Butch." Ms. Keane repeated sternly. "I would appreciate it if you'd kindly join our class and stop falling asleep like that. Are you really that tired?"
"Yes…" I replied smartly, wiping drool out of the corner of my mouth and smoothing my spiky hair away from my eyes; it was all messy from sleeping with my head on the hard desk. "I got two hours of sleep last night; of course I'm tired."
"Well, stay awake or I'll have to send you out."
I'd much rather be soaring above the clouds right now anyway.
"Go ahead; send me out. I don't care."
Blossom whirled and gave me a fierce glare that I guessed was again associated with my lack of enthusiasm about my education. I sighed deeply, yawning and rubbing my eyes.
"Ok; I'll stay."
"Good. And kindly pay attention while you are here."
Ms. Keane turned away from me and continued to talk about whatever she'd been talking about before she broke into my peaceful world of slumber; I groaned and laid my head down on my desk again, not caring at all about whatever lesson I was missing. I was exhausted and stressed, and that was all that mattered to me. I glanced at the others, and I knew that they were in the same boat. Brick was staring absently into space, drawing random scribbles on his paper at the same time. Bubbles' head was bowed down, and her eyes were shiny and brimmed with tears. Buttercup was playing with a paper clip, bending it into abstract shapes, her expression dismal. Not even Blossom seemed alert; her eyes were fixed on Ms. Keane, but they had a glazed, faraway look in them, as if she wasn't listening at all, her mind engrossed in something else. I barely contained a snicker; Blossom was angry at me for sleeping in class, and here she was, not paying attention herself? All of her efforts to be perfect made me want to break out in hysterical laughter sometimes. I mean, nobody does EVERYTHING perfectly right; not even Blossom. I watched her with my sleepy eyes, wondering why SHE didn't seem to admit that.
My wandering gaze happened to land on Buttercup again, and my heart plummeted down into my gut as usual when I saw that she was determinedly ignoring me, her eyes fixed on the paper clip she was twisting into an arrow shape. A sigh escaped my mouth and I looked away, wishing I knew what the hell was making my life so miserable. What had I ever done to deserve this anyway? Ok, so maybe I wasn't the most perfect little angel boy in the world, but was I really bad enough to deserve to be chucked into this hell hole? I remembered Boomer, lying lifeless in a pink hospital gown in a coma, and a shiver zipped up and down my spine. My eyes grew hot and tingly, filling with burning tears, but I painfully swallowed and held them in, my hands clenching into tight fists.
Just then, a burning pain exploded in my head like a hand grenade going off, and my eyes snapped shut faster than mousetraps as my hands flew instinctively up to my forehead. Not here…not AGAIN… I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaws started to hurt, and the pain in my head seared like a fire; this time I would fight as hard as I could. The fire in my head expanded suddenly, and the crushing pressure closed in, squeezing me like a lemon in a juice extractor. A small grunt escaped my mouth, but I clamped my jaws even tighter shut and clutched my head harder, my face set in a tight grimace. I pressed my forehead harder onto the desk, trying to let the cool faux wood surface ease the burning pain, but it didn't work; the pain seared and my whole body jumped, banging down loudly onto the desk and a cry bursting free of the traffic jam in my throat. In a panic, I struggled to breathe deeply, mentally pushing as hard as I could against the thing crushing my head, forcing itself in like it had a right to the place. It could at least pay rent, the sarcastic voice in the cheap apartment in the back of my head spat. That sarcastic voice had to pay a lot to be there, so it was probably just jealous; I wouldn't mind the crushing thing paying rent, though. I decided to charge it some rent; I squeezed my eyes shut as sticky beads of sweat rolled down my face, pushing as hard as I could, struggling to ram the squishy feeling right out the front door. I grunted and shoved, straining to win this game of mental tug-of-war, and for once, I had the upper hand; I could almost feel the pressure on my head getting lighter. I pushed once more, and then…bliss. My head slumped down on the desk, a relieved sigh slipping out of my mouth. The pressure was gone, and I felt all floaty and tingly inside. I lay there for a second, basking in my moment of triumph, and then I slowly opened my heavy eyelids, a big grin plastered on my hot, sticky face. My expression dropped in an instant; everybody in the classroom was staring right at me, wide eyed, as if they were ice cream sandwiches frozen in the snow drifts of Antarctica. I just realized that I'd played that whole game of mental tug-of-war in plain sight, right in the middle of class, and my heart dropped like a stone, my sweltering body jerking upright into a sitting position. My breathing coming fast and hard, burning with humiliation, I looked at Ms. Keane, who was staring at me like a zombie, just like everyone else. Try to look innocent, my brain told me; fire ants were attacking me, Buttercup was pinching me from behind, someone had put tacks on my chair, an invisible Martian was zapping me with a laser gun… The Lie Factory needed some repairs done; I doubted Ms. Keane would fall for any of those… And then she finally unfroze, her astonished expression melting into a stern one.
"Butch!" she cried, melting me with her ferocious gaze. "What do you have to say for yourself, young man?!"
I just stared.
"What do you think you were doing; acting so uncivilized in class?!"
"Uh…um…" I stammered while my brain whirred away. "Something crawled down my shirt. Something furry."
Ouch, that hurt.
Ms. Keane looked at me with an incredulous expression, her eyebrows raised suspiciously.
"Really? Hmmmm…How interesting. I guess I should have my classroom fumigated."
I felt the corners of my mouth twist up into a nervous smile as I mentally called a repairman to inspect the Lie Factory.
"Hey, I'm sorry." I said quietly, thinking maybe a nice apology would keep her off of my case. "I won't do it again."
"Go sit in the time-out corner." Ms. Keane said flatly, looking hard at me.
"But…"
"Right now, young man!"
I slowly got up, stalked over to the far back corner of the classroom, and sat in the rickety chair facing the wall, muttering "I'm sorry" the whole way.
"As I was saying, children…" Ms. Keane continued, her tone very warm, as I settled into the time-out chair, glaring at the wall. I thought about frying it with my laser beams, but that wouldn't at all help my current situation. Instead I wrapped my arms around my knees and settled my chin on top of them, feeling triumphant that I'd stopped that crushing thing from breaking into my brain. What would have happened if I would've had a spasm in class?! All that would have earned me was more publicity, in a bad way, and a one way ticket to the psychiatric office. Compared to more doctors, especially doctors who thought I was critically insane, the time-out corner was a breeze. Not that it was a Nazi death camp anyway. Now, the psychiatric office was a whole different story.
Sighing deeply, I turned my head around in my seat and glanced back at the others, curious to see what they were up to. They all seemed to be huddled together at our table, and Blossom was whispering to the others, her head down and her face somber. I strained my superhearing, deciding that this was another conversation I didn't want to miss.
"…and I think there's something really wrong with him." Blossom finished, just as my superhearing kicked in. I instantly knew that it was me they were talking about. My eyes darted over to Buttercup; her eyes were wide and empty, and she looked uncomfortable.
"I have to tell you guys something…" she said quietly, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. Blossom, Bubbles, and Brick looked at her, surprised. I glanced at Brick and was surprised to see how alone he looked, the only Rowdyruff Boy sitting at the table, his eyes all shiny with what looked like tears.
"I…" Buttercup stuttered, and then she fell silent, looking down at the ground.
"What?" Blossom asked, staring intently at her sister.
"You…you know that one day? That day when we fought that car thief with the SUV and those bank robbers that tied up Butch and stuff?"
Blossom nodded, and Bubbles and Brick kept their gazes locked on the black haired Powerpuff.
"Well…when me and Butch went into our room alone; you know, after I rescued him from Bubbles? Well he…he…"
"He what?" Brick demanded, leaning forward, his eyes hysterical.
I completely tuned out, already knowing what she was going to say. She was telling them about that incident with me and her in our bedroom, where she'd thought I'd attacked her. There were audible gasps from the whole table, and Bubbles looked as if she would slump to the floor in a dead faint, her face as white as a marshmallow. They sat in shocked silence for a moment, and then they all started jabbering away at once, frantically throwing their questions at Buttercup in a whirlwind. My head started to spin like a washing machine, so I buried my face in my knees and rocked gently, wishing I had a nice, cool desk to collapse on. How could I be the one attacking people?! That just wasn't possible!! Holy shit…What if they were right? I mean, who else could be trying to kill my siblings? But I wasn't; I was sure of that…
The rest of school day dragged on for weeks, with everybody avoiding me, like I was a ghost or something. Whenever I tried to talk to somebody, like when I asked Mary to pass me the crayons in art class so I could get a new red one to finish up my battle scene, they just acted like I wasn't even there. Even Blossom, Bubbles, and Brick seemed unusually shy towards me, and they kept pretty quiet when I tried to strike up conversations with them during a math lesson. Mike Believe scampered away from the water fountain when I floated over for a slurp, which was kinda nice, actually, but the way he looked at me when he ran wasn't.
During recess, everyone shied away from me, and I felt the steam building up. The last thing I wanted to do was sit around alone when I supposed to be having fun. Trying to ignore all the jerks that were looking at me funny, I dashed across the asphalt towards Harry Pitt, the guy that I liked to play football with all the time. He was standing in the grass laughing with a couple of his other buds, who looked up and stared at me with doe eyes just before they split, running over to play with Mitch Mitchelson, who was goofing off by the swings on the other side of the playground. Harry looked at me nervously, but he stayed put, shifting the football that he had under his arm.
"Hey, dude…" I called out breathlessly, skidding to a stop beside him. "What's up?"
Harry shrugged, looking down at the grass now. Was he afraid he'd turn to stone if he looked me in the eyes or something?
"I'm not gonna explode or anything; I just want to hang out with somebody!" I said, elbowing Harry in the ribs, trying to be friendly. He looked up and gave me a weak smile.
"How's it going?" he asked quietly.
"Today sucks." I replied truthfully. "Everybody's giving me the silent treatment."
"Well, you…you kinda freaked them out."
"Did I freak you out?"
"Kind of." Harry answered, looking away again, clutching his football tightly against his chest. My mouth started to open, but I jammed it closed; this was obviously a tense subject, and I still wanted to have at least a little fun. So I leaned forward and slipped the football easily out of Harry's grasp, smiling at him and twirling it around in my hands.
"C'mon, let's play!"I shouted, bouncing up and down excitedly, my whole body twitching like usual. Harry stared at me, his eyes wide, taking a step back. This hit me like a blow to the stomach; he always jumped with joy at my invitations to play, because he wasn't exactly the most popular guy in school. Some people still thought he had cooties, I guess. Harry must've seen my face fall, if it was that obvious.
"Hey, dude; no hard feelings, ok?" he said quickly, gesturing comfortingly towards me. "I just don't want to play today. Mitch promised he'd try to hook me up with Julie Bean today."
A tiny smile crept onto my face; Harry had always wanted attention from girls, but the rumors about him having cooties prevented him from having anyone even stand three feet from him.
"Ok." I breathed, forcing a sympathetic grin onto my face. "You go."
"No hard feelings, right?" Harry asked, his tone full of relief. I shook my head. "Cool. See ya later, dude."
We slapped hands, rapped knuckles, and then Harry dashed off, running off of the grass field that we were on, heading towards the playground stuff on the asphalt, where Mitch Mitchelson was hanging out. As soon as he was gone, and I was left standing all alone in the grass, I almost felt the smile slip off of my face like spilled soda. Sucking in a shaking breath, my knees buckled and I collapsed onto the grass, my butt landing hard on the dirt. My mind ran in confused circles as I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them, hot tears welling up in my eyes. Something had to have happened; something totally out of the ordinary. It must have been really weird to have scared Harry away from me; he had always played with me, never caring about how psychotic I was, even without this weird crushing thing in my head. Maybe I had multiple personality disorder or something. Was I really going insane? No; it couldn't be…. I felt the butterflies in my stomach explode, and a small, fat tear squeezed out of my eye, crawling down my cheek like a wet caterpillar. Then as quick as it escaped, the tear was gone, flicked away in an instant by a single swipe of my hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid… I curled up into a tighter ball, hiding my face in my pants, struggling as hard as I could to hold in all the rotten tears that were fighting to break free. Why, oh why was this happening to me?
***************************************************
"I said, how was your day, Butch?"
Professor's voice broke through my trance, and my head snapped up so I could stare up at him blankly. We were sitting in the little white car, and Professor was driving us home from school. I shook my head, amazed at how asleep I'd been after recess; maybe I really was a psycho.
"Ok…." I lied, my voice small and my mouth as dry as the Sahara desert. I noticed that everybody else was purposely looking away from me, but I caught Brick staring at me out of the corner of his eye, and his pupils soared away to stare out the window again when I met his gaze. A sigh escaped my mouth and I leaned back against the seat, looking down at the car's stale Cheerio covered carpet.
I could tell that Professor wasn't buying it, but he dropped the subject anyways. He turned his full attention back to the road, but his knuckles showed white as he clutched the steering wheel. My voice was once again caught in my throat, and I remained painfully silent until we pulled into our driveway, piled out of the car, and stumbled into the house. Buttercup staggered right for the TV, like usual, but her expression was blank and wide eyed. Once she clicked the TV on with the remote, she just stared at the screen, even though there was Barney playing on that channel, and she liked Barney just as much as she liked spiders. Blossom soared over to the table, pulled her books out of her backpack, and got out a pencil and paper so she could do her homework. But she just started doodling absently on her worksheets, looking like a zombie. Bubbles slumped into a corner and grabbed a hold of Octi, squeezing him tightly in her arms as she whimpered quietly. Brick grabbed an orange from the fruit basket and started to eat it without peeling it; his eyes suddenly popped and his pupils contracted. While Brick frantically spit all over the floor, I collapsed onto the carpet, almost feeling the weight of my despair sitting on my shoulders like a big fat elephant.
We sat like that for a long while; seemed like years to me. Professor looked disturbed, obviously noticing all the odd behavior around the house, and everyone else was frozen in their trances. I cuddled on the floor, watching the second hand on the clock tick in slow motion, trying to ignore the empty sound of the TV, blaring out the Barney theme song. I started to shake, terror suddenly sweeping over me and clenching my stomach with an iron fist. Why was I feeling so….scared? I curled into a ball on the carpet and shivered, feeling totally vulnerable and stupid, pressing my fist as hard against my mouth as I could. I squeezed my eyelids shut until they hurt, and then something grabbed me, clutching my torso tightly. My eye suddenly popped open, and then my mouth dropped open; it was the Professor, holding me tenderly and looking into my eyes with a worried expression.
"Are you all right, son?" he asked, sounding very concerned. I stared at him, my whole body frozen, as images of Boomer, bloody and mangled on the kitchen floor with only the whites of his eyes showing, flooded whatever was left of my brain. Even though I tried to stop it, my body shook violently, like a 9.0 earthquake. My eyes burned with hot tears, some of them sliding free and crawling down my cheek, betraying me.
"I'M NOT OK!!" I screeched, tears pouring down my face like Niagara Falls, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. A wave of embarrassment washing over me, I put my head down and watched the tears slip off of my face and drip onto the carpet, leaving little dark spots.
"Nobody cares…nobody cares…" These words just poured out of my mouth like syrup, and I didn't realize how stupid they sounded until a second after I'd said them.
"That's not true…" Professor said calmly, pulling me into his lap, his arms still circling me reassuringly. Completely broken down, I buried my face into his shirt and felt the tears crawl down my cheeks as I clung onto the fabric as tight as I could.
"No they don't…" I said, my voice muffled by Professor's shirt. "They all ran away from me, and said I was crazy, and they wouldn't play with me and they talked about me behind my back!"
"They're all very worried. They just don't know how to tell you what they think without hurting your feelings." Professor replied, holding me comfortingly, stroking my hair with his hands. We stayed like that for a long time, me curled up in Professor's lap, crying into his shirt, and his arms wrapped around me.
Suddenly a loud ringing sound burst through the comforting silence, and we both jumped in surprise; it was the phone. Why must technology always ruin our most tender moments? Without a word, Professor stood up and walked over to the living room to answer it, still holding me against his shoulder with one arm, like you would hold a baby. As he picked up the phone, I closed my eyes and snuggled against his warm shoulder as a few more tears squeezed free and dripped down my cheeks, trying to ignore the voice in my head that was calling me a pathetic loser.
"Hello. This is the Utonium residence; how may we help you?"
The voice on the other end sounded garbled and overexcited, almost like the Mayor, but I didn't listen to what they were saying, because I didn't care.
"You don't say?!" Professor suddenly exclaimed, his eyes popping. "That's wonderful news! The kids will be overjoyed!"
I perked up in Professor's arms; what would we be overjoyed about?
"Yes; we'll be there as soon as we can. Tell him we're coming."
He hung up the phone with a click and whirled around excitedly, still holding me firmly.
"Boys! Girls!" he shouted. "Come here; I have fantastic news!"
In a second and a flash of light, Brick, Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup were there, floating in front of Professor with anxious expressions.
"What…?" Blossom began quietly, but Professor cut her off.
"Boomer has woken up from his coma!"
The whole room froze for a second, absorbing the information, when it exploded, everybody breaking into cheers. Blossom gasped, her eyes sparkling and her hands flying up to her face. Brick's reaction was almost identical. Bubbles burst into delighted tears while Buttercup whooped and punched the air with exhilaration.
"Let's go see him; let's go!!" Bubbles squealed, tugging impatiently at Professor's shirt.
"Of course we're going…"
Before Professor could finish his sentence, he was grabbed by all of us, including me of course, and carried off into the sky, zooming for downtown, all of us laughing in relief and ecstasy the whole way. In a few minutes, we arrived at the Townsville City Hospital, finally setting the Professor down and following him eagerly through the front doors, babbling excitedly. My heart was exploding in my chest, and happiness was flooding through me; I almost forgot the whole issue with Dr. Reynolds and me 'attacking' Boomer. I just wanted to see him alive, more than anything, even more than a snack from the Bravo Burgers restaurant that I was completely obsessed with.
We approached the check-in desk at the emergency care center, where Professor requested to see Boomer. The pudgy nurse lady with curly black layered hair at the check-in desk smiled and approved, sending for a doctor to escort us. When I saw who it was, I felt my face fall; it was Dr. Reynolds, boring his steel gray eyes into me like drill bits, the second he saw me. I stared back, making my eyes as hard and menacing as possible, not wanting to fight with this asshole any more.
"Come; follow me." Dr. Reynolds ordered sharply, turning on his heel and leading us down the corridor to Boomer's room, his mouth set in a serious line. He turned the stainless steel knob and pushed open the glossy white door with a creak; we all zipped into the room as fast as possible, stopping short in front of Boomer's bed. And there he was, sitting up and leaning weakly against his big white pillow, free of all but one cord, stuck in by a needle in his wrist. His blond hair was tangled, his skin was pale and sweaty, and his ocean blue eyes looked huge in his face as he stared at us, like a deer in the headlights. Bubbles let out a squeal of pure joy and zoomed over to his side faster than if she'd been magnetically attracted, wrapping him in a warm hug, tears of joy pouring down her face. He squeezed her back, his mouth twisting into a weak, but genuine smile as the rest of us flew over to him, our hearts overflowing with relief. He smiled at each one of us, some color rushing back into his pale, sticky face, and his eyes shining like polished sapphires. Then his eyes fell on me and suddenly the smile slid off in an instant, and a look of complete terror replaced it. My heart sunk immediately, and my face fell, a heavy feeling of dread filling my stomach; something wasn't right.
"Boomi…What's wrong?" Bubbles asked, obviously noticing Boomer's body tensing up. Boomer's arm lifted up, shaking, to point straight at me, his eyes wide with terror, piercing me like spears.
"He….he…" Boomer whispered in horror, his voice weak and scratchy. "He cutted me up."
"WHAT!!" everyone screamed, after a tense silence. My mouth dropped open; this couldn't be happening.
"He cutted me up." Boomer repeated, still pointing at me accusingly and staring at me without blinking once. "He attacked me when I was getting' a drink; and he wrestled me, and he cutted my tummy with a plate, and I cried…"
His eyes started to fill with tears, and his mouth trembled. I shook my head back and forth, not believing it, his expression crumbling me up inside. Everyone in the room turned slowly to stare at me, their stares hitting me like bullets, as Boomer burst into tears, covering his face with his hands. No…no...no…NO…
I couldn't stand it any longer.
I felt my feet leave the ground and I was in the air, crashing through the wall of the hospital room in a streak of emerald green, catching a glimpse of ' smug face as I fled. I flew up into the sky and blasted over the metropolis, fleeing for somewhere I didn't know, fighting back hot tears, my throat all clogged up, and my mind racing in dizzy circles. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't stay here any longer. Not one more second.
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Author's note: Yay; I finally updated! You'd better like it, because I worked hard and it's the longest chapter I've ever written. (Just kidding) -CrystalBlossomX