Watch Your Back

Chapter 9

The pain started in his stomach, like a knife slowly pushing through his skin. Aaron immediately sprinted up the stairs and threw himself into his room. His parents could be home any second. He curled into a ball and gripped him stomach. Wait... Aaron lifted up his shirt. No blood. Good. He was making sure this wasn't any of Mr. Crazy's work. The tear-bringing pain lasted for a few minutes until it was just a throbbing pulse in his abdomen. Aaron slowly hobbled downstairs and got the pain reliever from the cabinet. After swigging down a glass of juice, Aaron nestled into the couch and turned on the TV. Nothing except mindless reality shows. So he raided through boxes of movies until he found one he liked. "The Breakfast Club." Looks like he was eating popcorn for lunch. The pain relievers slowly kicked in as Aaron felt sleepy, and eventually dozed off. For once, his dreams weren't plagued with insane asylums and guys with purple hair. Just visions of old high schools and snowflakes.

Aaron woke up to find his parents looking over him, his mom's stomach bigger than when she made the announcement.

"Hey, honey. Are you feeling better?" Better? Oh, yeah! He faked being sick so he could investigate the asylum, but ended up binge watching old movies.

"Oh, yeah. I'm feeling better." Aaron fake stretched and saw a look of approval on his dad's face.

"Well, we're having chicken soup for dinner later, so go take a shower and relax." His dad leaned over and ruffled Aaron's hair. Aaron gathered himself and climbed up the stairs. When he was getting his clothes, he heard noise coming from the vent. So he eavesdropped.

"...I'm so worried about him. Maybe he's stressed about being a brother." His mom.

"Well, as long as he gets to school. I've thought about taking him with me on weekends to go hang out." No! He needed those precious days to investigate what happened in the mental hospital! Aaron needed to prove that he would be perfectly fine on his own. He grabbed a random band shirt and some clothes and took a quick hot shower. He tilted his head back and let the hot water and steam engulf him as he tried to conjure up an explanation that would convince his parents to leave him alone. He turned off the water with a squeak and dried himself off. Aaron looked in the mirror. He saw a teenager with red eyes and an ashy, sick looking face. He splashed some cold water onto his face and pulled on the shirt. Pink Floyd. One of the shirts he slept in. Wrapping his hair in a towel and pulling on some sweatpants, Aaron jogged downstairs for dinner. He had stayed in the shower for longer than he thought. His mom set a bowl of hot soup in front of him. Here it goes.

"Mom, I'm feeling a lot better than I did this morning. Do you think I would have to go to school tomorrow?" Aaron sipped at his soup and waited for a response.

"Hmm... Well, I'll check your temperature after dinner and see if your fever is gone." Yeah. "Fever."

"Aaron, I was thinking of telling you something very important." Aaron's attention turned to his dad.

"Yeah?" Aaron asked.

"You're so interested in that asylum, so I wanted to take you to visit it this weekend. You know, educational. Town history."

Aaron's stomach leapt with joy.