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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm a day early with this update! yay me!! I'll be back on either Tuesday or Wednesday with chapter 6. :O)
~ 5 ~

The Blueberry Pig

“When I was a little boy I had this stuffed pig that I took with me wherever I went. The thing might as well have been attached to my arm as a third hand. At least that’s what my mother always told people. It made me feel safe and warm, even as a little baby. I think that’s how long I had it. Mom said I used to sleep with it in my crib and whenever she took it away to be washed, I would scream and cry so loudly, she would give it back to me before she even had time to put it in the dryer.

That pig was my best friend. I never let it out of my sight until one day it just up and disappeared. I wish I knew what happened to it.”

“Did it have a name?” I looked over at the lady I was telling all of this too. I think her name was Joan. I didn’t really pay attention when she introduced herself. I was too embarrassed by having to get to this point to begin with.


“The pig, did it have a name?”

“I don’t remember.”

“But, if it was that important to you, I would think you’d at least remember its name.”

“I’m bad with names. I don’t even remember yours.” I said it kind of mean and angry, angsty, teenager-ishy. If the shoe fits, I guess. She wasn’t making a very good impression on me. In fact I found her kind of condescending. Kind of like what Kevin would be like if he was a female and a therapist.

She smiled at me and crossed her legs, “Jane and that’s okay. I am bad with names too.”
She lied. She might be a good therapist but she’s not a good liar. As for me, I was pretty close with her name. Jane…Joan, pretty good Nick!

“That’s my mother’s name.”

“Nice.” She sounded unimpressed, kind of like how I felt right about now.

“So, what does my favorite toy when I was a kid have anything to do with anything?”

“I didn’t ask you what your favorite toy was, Nick. I asked you to give me one of your best memories from childhood. You are the one that brought up a toy.”

“Still...what does that have to do with how I’m feeling now?”

“And how are you feeling now?”


“Why is that?”

“Because I feel like we’re not getting anywhere.”

“We just started.”

Maybe it was just me, but I felt like Jane was having a little fun with me. I was beginning to feel like this was a practical joke. Kevin probably hired this chick to pretend to be a therapist and they are in the next room filming this entire thing to show at the Christmas party.

“How old were you the last time you saw that pig of yours?” Back to the pig?

“I don’t remember…” I scrunched my face in thought. “I was really little. Five, maybe? I haven’t thought about it for a really long time until I saw it in my dream the other night.” Actually I had forgotten all about it completely. I don’t remember much of my younger years. I swear I think I was just born a teenager.

“Tell me about your dream.” She pulled out her pad and pen.

I had it two nights ago, after I told Kevin and Brian everything. It started out as a nice dream. “I was in my mother’s arms holding this stupid pig in one hand dangling it behind my mom’s back as she carried me. My other hand was in my mouth. At least the thumb was. She was humming to me, rocking me back and forth. I’m not sure how old I was. I had to be maybe three or four at the oldest.”

I paused, trying to remember some of the details. I was having a hard time, “It was kind of a nice dream but then…I don’t know. Something changed.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Just I felt scared and uncomfortable.”

“What made you uncomfortable? Try to remember.”

“It was a dream, it could have been anything. Jesus, one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles might have come out of nowhere and lopped my mom’s head off.” As I said that, trying to be a smartass, I did have a memory. “There was something weird…my mom didn’t look like my mom.”

Jane nodded at me, “That happens sometimes. People sometimes morph into other people while you dream.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know who this person was. She looked nothing like my mother and my pig changed too.”

“How so?”

“It changed colors on me. It went from pink to blue.”

This seemed to intrigue her for some reason. She did the whole stereotypical therapist ‘uh huh uh huh’ thing and then she just kind of changed the subject on me.

“So tell me about these panic attacks you have.”

I told her all about my anxiety attacks. About how I tend to lock myself in the bathroom when I’m alone and how scared I am all the damn time. She didn’t write anything down at all while I was talking. I’m not sure why, but it made me uneasy.

When I was finally done rambling on and on I asked her, “So, what do you think? Am I crazy?”

She smiled at me, “I think you’re a teenager who is under a lot of stress. I think it’s something to pursue further.”

“You mean I’m not instantly cured?”

“Do you feel cured?”

“I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like, but I don’t think so, no.”

“There’s nothing to cure, Nick. What we have to do is problem solve. In the meantime though, I’ll prescribe something for you to take to help with the nerves.”

“My mom’s dead.” Whoa, that came out of nowhere.

She glanced over at me and her eyes held mine a little longer than they should have. “I’m sorry to hear. How long ago?”

“Not recent, if that’s what you’re thinking. She died five years ago.”

“Do you dream about your mom often?”

“Not really. If I do, I don’t really remember.”

She nodded and went back to writing out her prescription, “Well, like I said, this should help you sleep and be a little less anxious. I do want to see you again. Maybe we can schedule another session next week.” She stood up and I followed suit.

“I would like to leave you with some homework.”

“Great, because I don’t already have enough homework.”

She laughed at that. “Next week I want you to tell me about a warm memory from your childhood having to deal directly with your parents.”

I shrugged at her, “Okay, whatever floats your boat.”

She shook my hand, “It was very nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Now it was my turn to lie.


When I got back to the hotel, I was greeted with Kevin and Brian who were anxiously waiting to hear how it went. I didn’t feel like talking about it though. Before I told them about anything, and there really wasn’t anything even worth telling, I had to process the information myself. One thing I kept going back to was that stupid pig. Why hadn’t I remembered it until now?

I got kind of annoyed when she asked me if I remembered its name but honestly, the fact that I couldn’t was troubling me. I named everything when I was young. Hell, I name everything now. My Playstation’s name is Pete. I even named my favorite sneakers my yuckapoohs. Long story…smelly feet, but that’s not the point. Point is, if this pig had a name I should be able to remember it.

Once Brian and Kevin figured out I wasn’t going to purge all the details of my first session with Jane the wonder therapist, Brian decided to go back to his room and chill a bit before we had our first concert tonight.

Kevin must have opened his mouth ten times to ask me a question but then chose to close it again. He looked kind of funny, like a fish trying to breathe out of water. Eventually he gave up and put the TV on.

I pulled the bottle of pills from my pocket and looked at the instructions. They will make me drowsy so I can’t take them until after we’re done with the show, but just seeing them and knowing that maybe I’ll have a good night’s sleep for once made me smile.

I lay on my bed and closed my eyes, hoping to take a quick nap before I had to get ready for tonight’s performance.

She was quietly humming to me again. A song I didn’t know, yet, it sounded so familiar. I looked down to see that pig in my hand. It was pretty small and definitely pink. Her voice was so soothing and lovely, yet unfamiliar. My cheek brushed against her curly brown hair as she continued to rock me.

Her hair wasn’t supposed to be brown.

My mother has blonde hair. This is where I began to feel uneasy in this dream. Maybe it was because the safe feeling was being replaced by uncertainty. We were walking towards a bed, a very small bed with bumpers on the side so I wouldn’t fall out of it.

I felt the need to jump out of her arms. Something bad was about to happen and I didn’t want to see it. I closed my eyes. Maybe I’d be able to block it out that way?

The sound was deafening. Like a fireworks display only this time it was right in my room. Was this my room? Nothing about it even looked familiar. Nothing felt familiar.

She dropped me to the floor when she heard the noise. It hurt and my pig flew out of my hands. I started to cry, reaching for my pig and my mother at the same time only having them both ignore me. She looked down at me and then walked out of the room. I cried out for her but because of all the noise she couldn’t hear me.

I crawled towards my pig but just as I was about to grab it, another loud bang made me scream and fall so, I left it there and ran to the desk. I crawled underneath it before the whole house fell down around me.

She came back into the room and yelled a name. It wasn’t mine. Maybe it was the pigs? At that moment, I heard another explosion but this time it was more of a pop. She fell to the floor right next to the pig. Her face was turned away from me so all I saw was her brown curly hair. It looked wet and the wetness was starting to cover my pig, turning it from pink to blue...

I jumped out of bed and landed in the corner, pulling my legs towards my chin as best I could, “God….oh God…oh God…” My heart was beating so fast, it actually hurt. I couldn’t calm myself down. Next thing I knew, Kevin was beside me.

“Nick its okay, you were only dreaming.” I heard him say, but he sounded so far away. All I could hear were the explosions of sound coming from that room where I was under the desk, just like the other day.

“God, no!”

“Nick…breathe.” He had his hands on both of my shoulders now and was intently staring at me. “Focus, it was only a dream. You had a nightmare, you’re safe.”

“There were explosions and the pig…”


I knew I wasn’t making any sense to him. He had no clue what the pig even was. I hadn’t mentioned it to him at all, yet I still needed to verbalize it. It was important. “The pig changed colors in my dream.”

“Yes, it was only a dream….” He interrupted himself, “Wait… You freaked out like that because of a pig?” He gave me a confused, comical look.

“It changed from pink to blue because it was covered in blood.”

“What? Nick, you aren’t making a lick of sense.”

“It was so real Kevin…so real.” I let out a long breath and allowed myself to leave the confines of my dream and come back to reality which was the face of a distraught Kevin Richardson.

“Nicky, are you okay?”

I nodded at him, “Yeah, just had a nasty dream.”

“Uh, you think?” He helped me to my feet and led me back to my bed, “You want to talk more about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I answered, running a hand through my sweat soaked hair. Now I definitely had to shower before the show. I was a mess!

“Besides a bloody pig?”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay little man?”

I smiled at him, “Yeah.” I was far from okay though. That nightmare was a little too real for me and there was only one person I could call to help me answer some of the questions I had spinning around in my head, but that phone call would have to wait until after our show.