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Death #34 - All In My Head

He closed his eyes, imagining himself swimming in a warm sea, far away from this freezing cold mountain, free of the pain, free of the cold, free of the crushing weight of the snow. Weightless and free…

But he wasn’t lucky enough to succumb to unconsciousness so easily, or to die so peacefully.

Just as he was starting to fade away, the snow was brushed away from his face, and he felt something wet and warm on his cheek. Lauren? he thought hopefully and forced his eyes open.

But the face hovering a mere inch from his wasn’t his girlfriend’s.

In fact, it wasn’t even human.

His eyes, the only part of him still capable of movement, darted back and forth, taking in the mangy beige fur, the pointed teeth, the fierce yellow eyes. “Nice kitty,” he whispered, as the cougar licked some more snow off his face.

Then, in a flash of movement so quick, he never fully knew what hit him, the big cat pounced.

The last thing Nick felt, as it ripped out his throat, was pain, followed by warmth, as the blood poured from his torn jugular. The red snow would make it easier for Lauren to find him, when she made her way back up the mountain with the rescue medics.

The approaching sound of human voices scared off the cougar, who had just begun eating the frozen paraplegic. Denied of its tasty treat, it slunk back into the trees, but not before its prey had bled out.

For Nick, it had been a relief.


Nick shot forward in his bed, shivering badly. For a moment it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He sat there, just enjoying the feeling of air filling his lungs and exhaling. He pulled up the covers on his bed, trying to warm himself, to no avail. Nick knew he wasn’t shivering from the cold. He rubbed his arms idly, looking around the stark white walls of his sterile room. The ceiling fan above him was off, and right then he was glad.

He climbed off the bed, walking carefully to the only window of the room, and it was a tiny one at that. The glass was thick, completely reinforced to prevent anyone from breaking it. Whether in a misguided attempt to escape, or to use it in other ways, it was a concern here. Nick just liked it because it meant there were one way to get in and one way to get out.

No one could reach him here. Here, he was safe.

That was why he was there. Nick Carter had committed himself to that very psychiatric hospital in 2011, just after the NKOTBSB tour that swept the nation during the summer. He’d started having the dreams. Dreams that were just so realistic. He’d swear that they were real – if it wasn’t for the fact he woke up from them every single time. He was terrified of the day he wouldn’t wake up.

In every dream, it ended the same. He was dead. In some horrific freak accident of a death, or a bad decision, or a psychotic killer, the ways were endless. But his dreams always in his demise. In every one, he couldn’t survive. Some would’ve been funny if they were anyone but him. Others were just downright disturbing. Nick touched his neck in comfort, simply relieved that this night’s dream hadn’t decapitated him. It throbbed with phantom pains. He shuddered, reflecting back to his frozen paraplegic end. Tonight’s had been different and number thirty three in the ways he’d gone.

In time, he’d seen death in every corner. There were just so many ways he could die. Death was everywhere. In moments something could go wrong. And Nick wanted nothing more than to live. He no longer felt safe. Not at home, not with Lauren, in fact in some dreams she was the cause. And then, that feeling soon carried over to AJ, Kevin, Howie, and Brian. Men he considered brothers, soon Howie was killing him in his dreams. It wouldn’t be much longer till they joined in right?

The lines between dreams and reality had become blurred for him and that had been the day he checked himself in. It was the only place he could be safe, be protected. The others didn’t understand, and perhaps never would. Nick didn’t care.

He sighed. He missed life on the outside. Nick didn’t want to die anymore. True death, with an actual ending, had to be better than this. Nick glanced at the sheets and up at the ceiling. He could do it. The doctors, they knew he wasn’t suicidal, that was why he still had some luxuries with his celebrity status. Like the fan. And the desk against the wall, the chair pushed neatly beside it.

Nick sighed once again. I just don’t want to die.

****

Lauren walked along the corridor, faithfully visiting her boyfriend at the same time she did every other day. She couldn’t understand what had caused Nick to be like this. What sparked his paranoia. But she loved him more than any other in her life before him, so she visited in hopes that maybe one day, she could help him get past this. What got to her was the fear in his eyes every time she came. A fear that she knew was of her.

She knocked on the door and listened.

No answer.

She opened the door carefully. “Nick?”

When she peered her head in, the sight she had been welcomed with caused her to scream. Doctors in hearing room rushed over as she continued to scream, unable to be calmed. There, in front of her, was Nick. He hung from the ceiling fan that now spun around, swinging his limp body through the air. A noose had been fashioned from his bed sheets, a fallen chair upon the floor. There was a smile frozen upon his pale face, mocking them all.

His body continued to swing, almost as if it was in celebration.
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