It's me again, back for more! Thank you to all the people who have written in support of what I am trying to do with this story. Wow! I have fans!
I apologize to all of you who found the last chapter lacking. I wanted to introduce NSYNC, but didn't want them to take precedence over Burke. Unless they are magicians, even those guys cannot make problems vanish with a few simple words. I'm also sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter.
The warnings: I do not know NSYNC, anyone affiliated with them, or any other celebrities that may appear within my musings. Having said that, you understand that I have no insight into their personalities or sexual preferences/habits. This is pure fiction. If you are too young to be reading this, shame on you! This is a tale of relationships between men, so be forewarned.
And now, without further ado-
A Light in the Tunnel
Chapter 3:
Lance bolted out of bed, nearly tripping on the shoes he had carelessly dropped when finally going to sleep. The haze of dreams was wiped away, leaving only Lisa's hiccupping cries. "Lisa, I can't understand you. Please, calm down enough to tell me what's going on. You said something about Burke. What happened?" As he asked the question, his stomach wrenched itself into his throat, bile stinging as he struggled to stay in control. They had failed to reach him, and now that impasse was being paid for. Lance's eyes brimmed with tears, waiting for Lisa to pronounce the inevitable.
"Burke, he-"
"Lisa, is he--dead?"
"He went into the attic and tried to hang himself. Right after he passed out, the rope broke. It wasn't strong enough to hold him. His sister heard him fall, and she called the ambulance. He's at the hospital Lance. I--I couldn't stop it! I almost lost him!" She broke down again, the guilt of not doing enough ripping her heart to pieces.
Lance, despite the tears rolling across his cheeks, almost whooped for joy. "Lisa, he's alive. That's all that matters right now. God has answered our prayers. Burke is alive." He heard her repeating his words as if trying to convince herself that it was true. "Are you at the hospital?"
"Yes. I rushed right over when I got the call. They're supposed to be checking him for brain damage and stuff. I think the doctors are going to admit him."
"Maybe that's what he needs. A chance to be away from everything, to strength what has been beat down. Lisa, do you mind if we came?"
"Sure. It's the only hospital here, really easy to find."
"We'll wait until the morning. Burke needs to rest. I'm sure he's exhausted. And Lisa? I'm so sorry we couldn't keep this from happening."
A stark, white room, the reeking smell of antiseptic cleaners, muffled voices, and chilly air greeted Burke as his eyes fluttered open. This was not the heaven he had envisioned when he took his last breath and bravely succumbed to death. It was supposed to be paradise, a place of unimaginable beauty, warmth, and peace. He sighed, realizing what had happened. He wasn't good enough for heaven. He was evil and had been sentenced to eternity in hell. Yet no sulfuric smoke tickled his nose. He wasn't even welcome in hell, instead condemned to this place, a realm of nothing. It was fitting. *He* was nothing. He stared blankly at the pocked ceiling above, trying to find contentment in that barren cell. He closed his eyes. Pain could never touch him again, his haunting hurts left in a life gladly given up. Though not where he hoped to be, Burke was free. A voice cut through the murmur. Burke briefly wondered what other soul was imprisoned nearby. The words struck him as odd, and understanding yanked him from euphoria. It wasn't over. He wasn't dead. Searching the room wildly, he saw that it was not his ghostly home, but a hospital room. His newly found tranquility was obliterated, laying in shreds beside his broken heart. He was a failure, unable to even do a simple task. Burke curled into a ball, his body shaking as depression, magnified by horror, returned in a raging storm. He cried, seeing the faces of everyone who would know everything he had and had not done. He wasn't even worthy of death, and would be forever marked by that disgrace, a public badge of dishonor. There could be no more hiding, no more pretending and being believed. Burke would always be the boy who didn't die. All of his grief came crashing down upon Burke. Instinctively, his fingers sought to bring painful release. No longer worrying about secrecy, he drug his nails across his arm, burying them into his skin. Red welts erupted, and he angrily split them, blood spilling from the gashes. He refused to scream, deserving all the pain that could be inflicted. Over and over he scratched, chucks of flesh collecting beneath his long fingernails. "Burke!" Lisa shrieked from the doorway. She rushed in, throwing herself across the room and onto her nephew. She fought his taloned hands, trying to pin them to his sides before more damage was done. Burke screeched, his self-hatred determined to destroy what didn't need to live. "Burke, please stop. This is isn't helping any thing. Just stop, please!" Struggling against his rage, Lisa held him tight, his head falling hollowly into the crook of her shoulder. He sobbed, drenching her red cotton blouse. "Let it out sweetheart, just let it all out." Lisa rocked back and forth, cradling Burke as if he were a fussy infant. Soon, from his emotions running rampant and the late hour, Burke slept, sniffling as his breathing deepened. Lisa stayed, afraid to let go, afraid that he would rip himself to bits. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Burke stirred, rousing slowly. He wanted to pretend that everything had been a dream, but couldn't lie. His opening eyes glanced around the room, instantly falling on the thick bandages wrapping his left arm. He poked them, grimacing at the pain it provoked. The terse flipping of magazine pages drew his attention outward. Across the small room sat his mother, practically tearing the pages from an old issue of Vogue, a furious glower darkening her face. A nurse poked her head in, and, seeing he was awake, proceeded to take his vital signs. Beverly looked on as the uniformed woman scribbled Burke's pulse, temperature, and blood pressure on a piece of paper, her scowl showing barely contained fury. She growled her thanks when the woman left, then spun to face her son, her eyes icy and cruel. "What the hell were you thinking Burke? Of all the stupid things to do! Here I am, a struggling single mother trying to provide for her family, and instead of being at work, I'm sitting at the hospital because you are a selfish brat! Do you know much this is going to cost me? Do you? I put a roof over your head, food in your mouth, and clothes on your back, and you still aren't happy! You want to have everything I make?" Burke bowed his head, already punishing himself for everything she ranted about. He was stupid, a disappointment. "I'm sorry momma," he murmured. "Sorry? Sorry doesn't make up for this Burke! Do I ask too much of you?" Her voice rose to a fevered pitch as she continue to berate Burke. He, in turn, took it all, believing it to be a confirmation of the things he told himself. "That's enough Bev," Lisa's stern voice broke through, ending the woman's tirade. "Burke doesn't need this right now." She sat a bottle of orange juice on the bedside table. "Feeling ok?" Burke couldn't look at her, couldn't face the woman he had lied to. She knew the truth he vehemently denied. She was a good, loving person and he had lied. "Burke, you have a couple of people who want to see you." His eyes shifted to the open doorway. Crowded in the threshold, jockeying for the best position, was NSYNC. Burke's shame grew, more tears threatening to fall. As with his aunt, he could not face them. "I--I can't see them. I'm sorry, but I just can't." His voice cracked and he hid his face in his hands. "Burke," Joey cooed, "it's ok-" "No! It's not ok! I--I lied to you. I looked you right in the eye and lied! I'm bad! Just--just go away. I'm not worth your time." Lisa turned a helpless look on them, not sure of what to say or do. Lance tried to give her a reassuring smile, wiping his watery eyes with his shirt sleeve. "Please. Go. I just want to be alone." "I'm not going anywhere young man," Beverly snorted. "I'm paying for your little vacation, so I'll come and go as I please." "I don't think that is necessary, ma'am," Chris spoke slowly after the shock of her tone wore off, afraid that he might say something to make matters worse. Burke was in no condition to hear petty squabbling, but being degraded was unacceptable. "Who are you to say what's necessary? I work hard for my money, and now I have to throw it away on this. Burke needs to get his head out of his ass and learn that the world doesn't revolve around him." "Stop," Burke groaned, his hands clamped over his ears, trying to shut out the yelling. They stared at each other, no one willing to back down from their own high ground. Justin slipped from his group, stomping away from the argument. When he returned, his friends and Lisa had congregated in the hall. Ignoring their questions and plaintive urgings, he stomped into Burke's room, towering over Beverly. He smacked a slip of paper onto the table in front of her. "You are so worried about how much this is costing you? Well I've taken that problem off your hands. Any bills that come from here are already paid for. I had a hard time believing the things Lisa said about you, but now I know she was right. What kind of mother are you? Your son is in pain. He tried to kill himself last night so he wouldn't hurt anymore, and you are worried about your checkbook! I don't know a thing about you, and I'm glad. You make me sick!" He pushed through his friends, his stomach churning, wanting to get away before his ire became unbridled. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In plain view of the nurses' station, since every part of the ward was visible from that aerie, Burke stared out the window of the third floor unit he had been reassigned to. Cars sped by, honking as they raced toward any number of destinations. It was a world of living people, those with some semblance of purpose. Burke didn't belong among them. He merely took up space. After a few more spiteful words, his mother had left for home, abandoning him with her usual indifference. Lisa had also gone, but promised to be back later. It didn't really matter to him, though. Even amid a million people, he wasn't there, wasn't alive. He thought about where he was, and what he could accomplish while confined there. A psychologist's appointment every day would not erase the truth. He should have died, he wanted to die. It was the one good deed he could do for everyone around him. Burke's fists clenched. Good people died everyday, but not him, not someone who was evil and desired the grim reaper's embrace. "A penny for your thoughts?" "I don't have any money, Justin." He watched the singer's reflection in the glass, eerily positioned over a distant thunderhead. "You're not supposed to be here. I'm not allowed visitors. You should go before we both get in trouble." "There won't be any trouble. The guys and I are bringing a little cheer to the ward. We're signing autographs and maybe singing a couple of songs. Sometimes being famous has its advantages." Burke nodded, finally turning his head and ending the disconcerting reflection view. "Then you should probably go see someone who could use some cheering. I've got too much on my mind right now. Besides, there are more worthwhile people here." Justin tentatively reached out, laying his hand on Burke's shoulder. "You really shouldn't have done that, Justin." "Done what?" "Said those things to my mom or paid my bill." "Oh," he smiled, "that. I paid the bill because it was the right thing to do. Your mom was yelling at you because of it, so I took that excuse away. And I meant every word I said to her. No one, most of all you, deserves to be talked to like that. It sounded like she was screaming at a stray dog instead of her son. It's wrong." "Don't you see?" Burke whimpered. "Everything she ever says about me is true. I *do* deserve it because I'm a worthless, stupid brat." "Burke-" "Just leave me alone Justin, please. I just want to be by myself." Without another words, he returned to gazing forlornly out the window. Shut out, Justin walked away, not knowing how to reach the island Burke was secluding himself to. From his ledge, Burke could hear everyone gathering in the sterile lounge. Moments later came the voices of those he had turned to on so many nights. A song snaked its way down the halls, carrying memories, passion, and hope in its melody. Burke, rubbing his eyes with his hands, shuffled away to his room, tears of frustration blurring his path. He threw himself on the cold bed, wanting to tear away his bandages and start another series of long, red scratches. The only thing stopping him was the doctor's promise of heavy medication. Instead he cried, his head tucked under the pillow. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Burke?" a gentle voice asked through the curtain of misery Burke was shrouded in. "Burke, we're getting ready to leave. I know you don't really want to see any of us, but I hope that will change soon. Anyway, we put our names on your approved contact sheet. I guess that's ok. I'll call you soon, ok? Burke, you take care of yourself. I want to see you back on your feet and enjoying things. I want to see you smile someday soon." The pressure on the bed did not let up, the speaker was waiting, hoping for a response. "We'll see you later Burke," he finished sadly. He wanted to hide away, but was drawn, like a moth to a candle, and sat up, seeing JC walking away. "JC?" he murmured. "I-" Spinning around with a cheesy grin, the man interrupted. "Josh." "What?" "My name is Josh. That's what all my friends call me." Burke's eyes fell. "Oh. I just wanted to say goodbye. It's been great meeting you guys. I really mean that." "Thanks Burke. We'll meet again, under better circumstances. I promise. Get some rest, ok?" Burke nodded, his hand waving as Josh left. "Bye," he sniffled.Lisa managed not to weep as she drove to pick her son up from Boy Scouts. She felt crushed, weak. All her efforts to help her nephew were for nothing, his saving coming from a ratty piece of rope. She blinked away tears, focusing on the lanes of the highway. Her cell phone rang. "Hello?"
"Lisa?"
"Yeah, Bev. You got me in the car. What's going on?"
"You have to take Burke."
Lisa stared at the speaker mounted on the dash. "Take him? Take him where? What are you talking about?"
"You have to take him in when he leaves the hospital. I'm tired of dealing with him. I've got too many other things to worry about."
"Bev, you can't be serious!"
"Deadly. I want him and his crap out of my house. He brings evil here, and I can't have it. If you don't take him, I'll just have to turn custody over to the state. I'm done, through."
"Bev, let me call you back when I get back home. We'll talk this out."
"There's nothing to talk about," Beverly firmly spoke. "I've made up my mind and that's it. All he does is take and take, and I'm finished giving. It's you or foster care. Unless those, singers," she snarled, "want to waste their time with him. They'd be lucky if he doesn't ruin their careers."
Lisa had been pushed, things she wanted to say but never had rushing from her mouth. "You self-righteous bitch! You don't deserve to have Burke in your life. He is such a good kid, and you can't look past your own fat head to see that! I say good riddance! He's better off without you to constantly put him down. You are such a lonely, miserable hag, and now you're losing one of the few things that made your life worth living! Goodbye Beverly." Her fist pounded into the phone, somehow hitting the 'off' button. Seeing red, she pulled onto the shoulder of the road, screaming at the top of her lungs. The cell chose that moment to ring again. "What?" Lisa barked.
"Uh, Lisa? This is Lance."
"Sorry for yelling at you Lance. What did you need?"
"Just calling to tell you that we're getting ready to fly home. Is everything alright?"
She rolled her eyes and mumbled a few words under her breath. "Not really. I just got off the phone with my sister."
"I see. Part of me wanted to believe you were over exaggerating about her. I just couldn't picture it."
"Then try this one on for size. Burke is evidently coming to live with me when he gets out of the hospital. It's either that or she's putting him in foster care." Lance gasped, unable to do more than stutter. "My thoughts exactly! I gave her an earful though."
"Oh God, Lisa!"
"Don't worry, he'll be fine. I guarantee it."
"That's good to know. He'll be happier with you. We left our numbers with the nurses at the hospital in case Burke wants to get in touch. Is that ok?"
"Absolutely! Thank you all so much for everything you've tried to do for him. We may not have been the most successful, but I hope, one day soon, Burke realizes how many people care about him."
"When you give him the list, make sure our names are on it. We've only hung out for a little bit, but he's made an impression on all of us."
"Sure thing. You all have a safe trip back home. And, again, thanks."
"No problem. Bye Lisa."
"Bye."
Burke, seeming smaller than he was, sank into the over stuffed chair. He waited, foot tapping nervously, for the gray haired doctor to sit in the chair across from him, the two separated by a glass topped coffee table. "Hello Burke," the woman smiled sweetly. "I'm Dr. Tomlinson, and I'll be in charge of your case while you're here. Why don't we just talk for a bit, just to get to know one another? How old are you Burke?" He looked at the woman, studying her just as she was him. This was his pass to being released, the ticket to being home where he could again seek the death he deserved. "I'm 17, ma'am." Dr. Tomlinson, looking over the top of her silver framed bifocals, asked Burke about his interests, family, school, and the such, furiously scribbling notes on the legal pad in her lap. From the corner of his eye, Burke watched the minutes away on a small wall clock. He answered her questions without too much detail, not wanting to be overly cooperative. He figured she would see through that and press for a longer stay. He was surprised, however, that, after an hour, she had not spoke of his suicide attempt or the bandages covering his arm. "That's all the time we have for now Burke. Dinner should be served soon, and you wouldn't want to miss that. Thank you for speaking with me, and I'll see you again tomorrow." The dismissal was that quick, and he left the office. Burke downed his plate of tasteless food, wondering what it was he ate. Instead of sitting in the lounge with the rest of the patients to watch reruns of old television shows, he returned to his room. There were penalties for falling asleep too early, so he just lay on the bed, picking out imaginary patterns in the tile ceiling. Soon becoming bored, he jerked himself up, and trudged to the nurses' station. "Excuse me." "What can I do for you?" the young nurse asked. "Did the guys who were here earlier leave their addresses for me?" She scanned the folder Burke's name was printed on. "Yes they did." "Do you have some paper or something? I'd like to write them a thank you note." She gave him a pencil and a few sheets of lined paper, then directed him to sit at the table next to the desk. Burke wrote a short letter, thanking them for coming to see him. There were other things his heart wished to add, but he couldn't bring himself to bare what was left of his soul on paper. He wanted to tell them that he wanted, more than anything, to be their friend. Self-loathing, however, reared its gruesome head, shrieking the fact that they were famous people, ones who did amazing things for people, and he was a worthless nothing. Their relationship would never be anything more than superstars and the flunky they had dirtied themselves with. Sniveling, he got an envelope, addressed it, and put the letter in the out-going pile.That's it for now, folks. See, no cliffhanger! The next chapter will be out soon, so don't worry!
Thanks for reading my little story. I'd love to hear what you think about it. Please drop me a line at cameronwriter@hotmail.com
I'll definitely get back to all who write.
Cameron