Date: Tue, 03 Dec 2002 20:11:52 -0600
From: Cameron Writer <cameronwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Light in the Tunnel chapter 3

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