CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Travelling Tale
My eyes open.
Immediately I look down at my legs. I’m standing.
Great. It’s one of those dreams again.
I pan my surroundings as they begin to meld into shape. I recognise four walls as they encase me within.
Another room.
I raise my hands. “Okay, you got me,” I say sarcastically. “Icarus! Come on out!”
I wait a few seconds as furniture forms in the room. The walls are painted cream. The colour is eggshell, I think.
A liquid bed solidifies beside my right leg, the sheets light blue and white.
I suddenly recognise where I am.
“John,” a voice calls to me.
My head turns towards the owner of the voice. There. On the opposite side of the bed is the strange being that has been calling out to me while I sleep.
“Icarus,” I say quietly. “What is it this time?”
Icarus’ eyes bore into mine. My instincts tell me to flee but I’m frozen where I stand.
It speaks with its usual ominous tone, “You are stronger than you think.”
I flinch. I’m taken aback by the surprise compliment.
I rub the back of my head “Um, thanks I guess?”
Icarus’ eyes narrow into slits. “They’re coming for him.”
“What?” I reply as the world around me is finally complete. We are standing in a shared room in the east hospital wing.
A figure sits upright in the bed; the heavy mop of dark hair covers the kid’s face as his head hangs down. His small hands grip at the edge of the sheets, his knuckles covered in cuts and bandages.
There’s a knock at the door. I distract myself for the moment by watching the bald doctor in a colorful rainbow lab coat opens the door.
The cheap smile is plastered to his face. “Good morning Mr. Kingsley! How are we today?”
The boy doesn’t respond, his head remains lowered. The doctor walks to the edge of the bed and picks up the chart.
As he reads through, he asks a series of questions. “Did you have any difficulty sleeping?”
“Any pain you’d like to report?”
As he goes through the list, I see the kid shake his head side to side. The doctor sighs and pulls back the sheets.
“Okay Mr. Kingsley, there’s one more thing to check,” the doctor announces. He points down at the kid’s big toe. “Wiggle your big toe for me.”
My eyes stare at my younger self’s face, teeth clenched and fists tightened as he settles into deep concentration. He grunts as he glares at his big toe in frustration as seconds pass, the toe unable to move.
After five minutes, the doctor reaches his hand to touch the kid’s shin. “It’s okay, John. You can sto-“
“No!” the kid shouts. “I can do it!”
The kid’s face becomes more contorted as time ticks on by. The doctor’s smile is gone from his face and general concern and pity replaces it.
“John.”
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SIDEKICK
Teen FictionWhenever someone, out there, creates a story that involves a hero, they'll always be someone in the form of a sidekick. Male, female, young, old, alien, paranormal, dog, whatever. Anything. But there's something that no one is aware of. You see, in...
