Nick struggled to stay awake most of the time. He would shut his eyes and fall back into a twelve-hour sleep at random times. Worms sleep a lot. So during these long periods of sleep, Nick had been having dreams. Worm dreams. Or werm drerms. Or weam dreams.
They weren't very eventful dreams. All he would dream about was dirt. He loved dirt.
But despite making him feel happy, dirt had only brought Nick immense disadvantages. It made his muscles deteriorate, his vision blurry, his body weak, and his English speaking skills even worse than they already were. Why would dirt hurt him so much? He loved dirt, so why didn't dirt love him?
Nick spent a lot of time in bed. Even though he had spent only a few days under the dirt, the bed felt foreign to him. He had forgotten how to Not Worm.
Within a few days, Nick regained some strength and got out of the bed a few times. He was able to stay awake for a few hours at a time as well. And in those limited periods of time where Nick was awake and capable of getting up, Alex used those times with him wisely. He spent it helping teach Nick how to not be a Worm anymore.
The first time Nick was able to get up happened when he had finally stayed away for longer than a few minutes.
Alex was sitting in the kitchen, staring at his phone. He was on Twitter. He spent copious amounts of time during the day to respond to hate messages and tweets about him by accusing the person of being a 15-year-old virgin. It was a crucial part of Alex's daily routine.
But his attention was taken away from his phone when he heard someone call his name. 'Worm!' he thought.
He went to the room where he heard the beckon of his name. Nick was there. But he wasn't laid in the bed as he usually was. Nick stood in the middle of the room, his thin legs shaking as they struggled to hold him up. His eyes were full of uncertainty.
"Nick, what are you doing?" Alex didn't understand why he had gotten up in his current bodily state. Why would a weak worm get up like this? The worm said nothing.
Alex approached him and rested a hand on his shoulder and back to guide him. But where was he guiding him to?
"Where are you trying to go?" Alex asked. Again, the worm said nothing.
Nick stood there. He couldn't remember the last time he stood like this. It was foreign to him. Everything's foreign to you when you're a worm.
Alex placed a hand on his shoulder and his back to support him. It appeared his legs would give out at any moment. Nick placed one foot forward and stood in an awkward stance. He moved his other foot forward as well. He did this again, and again.
"Are you trying to walk?" Alex asked. The worm said nothing.
He still held his hands nearby his body in case Nick stumbled. He was struggling, his legs still shaking as he attempted to walk. His eyes focused on the floor below him. 'This isn't dirt,' Nick thought.
Alex was shocked to see Nick was almost to the doorway at that point without falling. He had taken his hands out of the way of him and no longer stood nearby to support him.
Nick's face was emotionless but he was buzzing with feelings. 'What am I doing?' Nick thought. 'Where am I going?' That had been a recurring thought of his, even prior to being a Worm.
He was walking. Sorta. His movements were very irregular and uncertain but still he was moving. 'If worms had legs,' he thought, 'would they do this?' He refuted the idea, 'worms would rather eat dirt.'
Dirt. Nick loved dirt. Just thinking about dirt made him happy. He made the ':-)' face. He was walking faster now. Then suddenly he wasn't walking at all.
YOU ARE READING
Worm.
Fanfictionwritten with @ bounce2it and Nick McCarthy himself Nick McCarthy is a worm. He eats dirt. He lives in the dirt. But he's also a musician. He has to choose Dirt or Music.