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June 5th:
Chase just graduated from high school, still wearing his cap and gown when I saw him in the roundabout. Chase hopped in, grabbing tightly onto his shoulder bag. I sensed some tension with him, but wouldn’t bother with bringing it up because he probably wasn’t ready to leave school, yet. I felt the same way when I graduated two years ago.
“You excited for summer, Chase?” I asked to break the silence, looking at Chase in the rearview mirror.
“Oh, yeah. it’s gonna be… awesome.” He nodded his head weakly, looking out the window.
“Yeah, don’t worry too much about Aunt Beth this summer. I made sure to get her off your back this whole month!”
“Uh huh…”
He just gave me a simple nod, still looking out the window at the scenery. It was almost like he didn’t want to go home, yet…
The rest of the drive home was silent, well, except for the sounds of the car on the uneven dirt ground beneath us. Chase gets out of the car, walking fast to his bedroom. I let him cool off for a while, since he probably had a bad day today.
Those days went on like that, Chase would be cooped up in his room doing who knows what for days on end. One time, I heard him scratching something in his room, a thing that I would not want to check out myself.
June 26th:
It’s been three weeks since he locked himself up in his room. I knock on his door sometimes, but it’s not really effective since he won’t open up. He would even lock his room to make sure that none of us would try to open the door while he’s doing… Well, something.
I knock again, the door creaks open strangely… I see him painting something in a frenzy, like he’s lost his self-control. The Cousin I knew was nowhere to be seen…
I called Grandpa and told him what was happening to Chase. “I’m telling you, he’s acting crazy! He’s painting something, making a mess, scratching up the walls of the room, and all while making weird gurgling noises!” I whispered loudly to Grandpa on the phone.
“He’s what?! I’ll be right there in a minute…” Grandpa hangs up immediately. I wait for Grandpa to arrive back at the house after being outside doing errands for hours.
I hear thumping coming up the stairs, and I see Grandpa holding something with panic in his eyes, “Where is he?”
“In his room, right here.” I point to his door, where you can hear Chase growling inside.
It’s been two months since Chase became sick, just like Aunt Myra. Some hallucinations or dreams looked aggressive rather than peaceful. I’ve been taking some notes on what’s been happening with Chase in case the same thing happens with Aunt Myra. I didn’t know why Chase was sick or what he had. I’d rather believe that Chase was sick rather than being mentally unstable, but due to his condition, I had to look after him.
My dad has been making me go to Grandpa Ralph’s house to take care of Chase when he was away for a reason that wasn’t explained. Grandpa keeps telling me that Aunt Myra was diagnosed with cancer, but I know better than that. I did some research outside while I made sure Chase was sleeping, and I found it…
The disease…
There isn’t much studied about the disease, but it’s said to still linger in small towns, and Sugar Springs just happened to be one of them.
I want to know more than what some stupid researchers are trying to look for… They keep saying “stay inside and don’t leave unless necessary”, while some “Chosen ones” are allowed out to search for food for everyone. It’s a long process for the Chosen Ones because they have to go far away from home to look for food in the big cities, but they are provided with a car and unlimited gas, so I guess it’s fine. Grandpa was one of those Chosen ones. I still don’t know why he was chosen in the first place; I should’ve taken his place instead to prove to Mom and Dad that I can be trusted again.
Monday morning:
It was raining today for the first time in two weeks. The smell of wet grass and cool wind felt nice after weeks of the sun burning the top of my head. I’m the first one awake to check on Chase. The room is quiet as usual, with the window latch slightly open to let in a little breeze.
Chase was mumbling something in his sleep again as per usual… I grab my notebook and write down a new dream entry in pen. Today, Chase was dreaming about…Cats?
That was new…
Most of his dreams were about some old fairy tales that I would read him to sleep some nights, but it was probably about the neighboring cat, Prunella, that he saw the other day. Chase was playing with her when she somehow found her way inside the house and lay down on Chase’s bed while I was documenting another dream of his.
“Toffee break…” he calls it from one of his dream adventures…
Grandpa has been giving him medicine to calm him down, and further try to heal his mysterious illness…
Sometimes he would paint or draw in his free time, while I’m making breakfast for him.
Today, he drew a person in strange detail too…
“What Renaissance or Greek god are you painting this time?”
“Nothing…
“Wanna show me at least?”
“Fine…”
He turns the canvas towards me to show a portrait of a man with a hooked nose, blue eyes, and black raven hair.
“Wow, that’s really good, Chase… Do you have a name for this character?”
“He’s not a character! He’s Buddy!!”
“Alright, Buddy then…”
“You know him, Deacon! You know what, how about I make you a miniature horse to make you shut up about the Buddy thing…”
“Oh… alright, thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah… You better not tell Buddy about this!”
“Ok, I won’t…”
He grabs a wooden block and starts chipping away. I waited patiently for the horse, playing drums with my fingers on my leg. It’s good that he’s distracting himself with arts and crafts instead of having a seizure on the floor or scratching the walls, which I usually blame on Prunella.
17 minutes later he hands me the miniature horse, so I examine it, taking it in and all its horsey-ness.
“So you won’t tell Buddy? Pinky promise!!”
“Yeah, pink promise…”
He grabbed my pinky into his, making a pinky promise with a smile.