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    Kia Zi Shiru
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Black Sheep Part 2 - 4. Chapter 4

2 weeks late. Sorry for that, life caught up with me.

Anne, I'm scared.” Adams voice wakes me from my light slumber. He is standing in the doorway, his pale skin and tiny frame illuminated by the light from the hallway.

I move aside and move the blanket so he can join me in the bed. He is shaking violently, clutching me hard. I wrap my arms around him, he has gotten so thin, so very thin. I can feel every bone under his skin. Vic said that he had lost weight but I didn't realize it was this bad. The clothes usually cover up everything pretty well but in just sweats and a tshirt there is nothing to hide his skinny frame. I'm not sure how long he has been out under the blankets but he is freezing cold.

What is going on? What are you so scared of?” I move my hands up and down his back, trying to warm him up, every bump on his spine poking out.

I... I'm scared he won't want to get better this time. Even with Jack around he saw no reason to keep on living. Why would he get better if even his lover can't keep him bound to this world?”

I don't know.” I whisper, my heart sad. “We have to try. We have to trust they can help him this time.”

I'm not even sure I trust them any more. I don't know, I'm so confused.” Adam sighs deep, his breath tickling my neck. I hold him in my arms, hoping to warm him but every bit of heat seems to be leaving him immediately. I look at the clock, it is just past three.

I don't know either, but there is no use thinking about it right now. Try to go back to sleep, okay?” I softly kiss the top of his head as I feel myself drifting off at the familiarity of holding Adam like this, good memories of our childhood enough to bring me to sleep.

 

Anne? Tom?” Jack lingers at the kitchen door as I put cereal and other breakfast food on the table. Tom looks up from making a big pot of coffee.

Yes?” I wipe my hands on my shirt as I look at him. Jack seems really uncomfortable, fidgeting and moving from one leg to the other.

I moved Adams bag and this fell out.” He holds out a bottle to us. It seems to hold some sort of tablets and when I read the label I realize how Adam has lost so much weight. Weight loss pills... Great. Out of all things happening this seems the cruellest. He knows the risks, he knows that if he loses weight each attack he has might be his last one. He is deliberately slowly killing himself. I take the bottle and show it to Tom, who takes it from me as if it were the most dangerous thing in the world.

You didn't know?” I reach out to him. Anger, confusion, fear, pain, they seem to fight control when I look at his face. He shakes his head.

I thought it was just stress.” Tom sighs, defeated, hurt.
I touch his arm. “We probably all thought that.”
“How did we not realize.” Tom groans. “How can we have been so blind.”
“We weren't expecting anything. We knew he could lose his appetite because of the medication.” I sit down at the table and sigh deep, trying to release some tension from my body. “Thanks for showing us.”
“Vic knew.” Jack quietly whispers. “Vic said something was going on when we visited you guys a while ago. He didn't trust it.”
The room goes really quiet as I stare at Jack. How would he have known when all of us were so blind? I turn my head away, looking at the table but my mind elsewhere.
“This needs to stop. They need to stop.” I slump down, putting my head on the table with a loud thud. Tears drip onto the surface before my body starts to shake from heaving. How was this happening? How was everything falling apart like this?

I feel how Jack slides in the chair next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders, moving his hand on my arm in small motions. He pulls me towards him, making soft calm sounds. I'm not even sure how he does it but I seem to feel calmer.

Tom takes my hand and I look up at him.
“We'll be leaving soon. You make sure you keep it together and I'll make sure Adam gets better, okay?”

I nod, too tired to speak. Tom squeezes my hand before he leaves the kitchen and gets upstairs. Waking Adam I presume.

Why did it all go wrong like this? I put my head on the table, Jacks arm still warm around my shoulders. Why did it all happen at the same time?
Jack shifts and bows towards me. “Do you want me to call someone?”
I shake my head. There is no one to call. There is, but I don't think that it's a good idea to bring him up now. I don't think Jack would appreciate that I'd bring his brother in all this. The guy seemed troubled enough before.
“I think you need someone, Anne.” His voice is soft, caring, shy. “I don't think you should go through all this on your own.”
“Neither should you.” I pat his hand. “Neither should you. Please stay here with me for a bit.”
We sit at the table each with our own thoughts, listening to the grow grumbling of voices upstairs. A door slams and quick footsteps come down the stairs.
“I hate you!” Adam storms in and screams at Jack. “I hate you. Why did you have to go rummaging through my bag? I hate you! I hate all of you!”

He turns around and stomps back up the stairs, not waiting for our response.
Jack looks at me, bewildered. What was that all about?

2011 Kia Zi Shiru/Draigen
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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