Kenny waited with his two suitcases and duffle bag for Mr. Navarra’s van-Denny snuggling him tightly under his arm. The morning itself was misty. The thick fog blanketing everything beyond five feet of vision. It was chilly and occasionally a small faint patter of rain passed by, making the already glum morning gloomier. No birds sang except for a sad cuckoo who sighed a single sad “koo..” every once in a while instead of the jolly “CU-koo!!” Kenny was used to. Although his mother never told him to leave immediately, he felt disgusted to stay at their house any longer, because he knew that any sign of affection he would receive would be forced. His mother might still love him, just not nearly as much as she did before. He was still dizzy, but managed to stay upright enough to be aware of what was happening around him. He was being sent away - that’s all. Steadying himself with his arms propped up at his sides, he walked over to his mother who waited by the front door in her floral housecoat. He looked deep into her endless black eyes- the same ones he shared with her. “When will I come back?” he asked, “When will you be okay?”

She didn’t even meet his gaze when she responded, “Never did I imagine I sinned so much as to birth…I guess you’ll have changed by the time I served my time with this punishment” she shrugged and pouted-she didn’t seem to care. He thought for a moment about her answer: that could mean not ever! He didn’t want to ask her that- he was already hurt enough. He nodded and knelt at her feet in worship as he heard the horn of the van toot in the background. He was…a punishment?

 “I best be on my way then” he said. He found his father talking with Tim’s after they had worked together in hauling the luggage onboard. He ran over and cuddled the plush pot belly his father proudly claimed the ownership of. Beau Moore stroked his younger son’s head and pat him solid on the back with his big hands.

“Get on with it” Beau said solemnly, “you better make the right decision and fix yourself” . Unable to speak, he bowed to his father and climbed into the vehicle. He looked at the back and the passenger seat in front. He was quite glad Timothy hadn’t come along- now he could bawl his eyes out in peace without having anyone to try comforting him-because he didn’t want to be comforted. He wanted to heal at his own pace, no matter how long it would take.

“Call me every day, you hear?” Denny barked and moved aside for Lane to bend awkwardly through the opening and towards Kenny. He almost cracked a smile at how Lane was too tall for even the large van door to let him through.

“Kenny?” Lane soothed, taking Kenny’s hand into his. He didn’t have anything to say- he seemed he couldn’t find any. Kenny completely understood. Deep down, Kenny knew Lane was definitely blaming himself for all of this. He was doing a fabulous job at not showing it.

“Don’t blame yourself” Kenny begged, reading Lane like an open book. Lane, still unable to find the words, only leaned in and kissed Kenny on the cheek and nuzzled him with his perfect pointed nose. He ran away before the waterworks started gushing. Kenny was surprised how Lane could possibly have any more tears left but he regretted not being able to kiss Lane back somewhere more special. With their final good-byes, Denny rolled the door shut with a loud bang that rattled the entire van back and forth. Kenny didn’t look once out the window as they drove away- he didn’t mind forgetting.

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Navarra said, “Where we live you can visit your partner in twenty minutes! I’ll ask Timothy to show you the way”. Emiliano Navarra looked just like his son except plumper and more tired looking. His previously hazel brown hair was now all silver like a steel wool had been plastered to his head. His round face was prickly with white stubble and his eyes were heavy with bags. Regardless of this, he looked like he had accomplished everything on the planet. Whatever it was that he had said, Kenny had heard none of it. He simply stared-he didn’t know exactly what he was staring at but he gazed on and on with a faraway soulless look in his eyes. His body felt disconnected from anything else, right then, he was back home with his mother, father, Denny, Riona and Lane, having a picnic in the sunny afternoon. A part of him new that what he was seeing and feeling wasn’t true-that he would lose himself completely if he lived in his imagination for too long. Yet, every time he looked back at the real world, the other side to it told him to wait for just a bit longer. And he did.

His house drifted further and further away and Kenny hadn’t realized. He didn’t realize even after they had continuously been driving for an hour and screeched to a stop in the middle of a car accident on the highway. He just sat there in the same position he had been sitting in since the journey began.

“Should I buy you something to eat?” Emiliano had asked endearingly, “Ice cream perhaps?” When he had realized Kenny was unresponsive he had halted the van on the side of the road and clambered onto the back seats. “You have to get over this, boy! Snap out of it!” he had shaken Kenny like a rag doll, sprayed water at his face, however, Kenny had remained as is.

In the garden where the picnic was laid, a horrible earthquake rippled the horizon. Kenny knew it was the outside world calling for his return. The world around him glitched between his family and the worried look on Mr. Navarra’s face. They called out for him to stay and not leave- that they needed him and Kenny was more than obliged. The rip in the atmosphere above that lead to the real world started sewing itself shut. Kenny couldn’t have been happier. He sank deeper into the illusion.

“Please come back, hijo” Timothy’s father begged, “Somebody please help!”  

In Kenny's head:

Kenny sat fooling around with a piece of cucumber-sandwich in his mouth. Usually he hated cucumber-sandwiches in the real world. The taste of bland American cheese further watered down with the watery vegetable made him gag. Here however, they were weirdly refreshing with a slight touch of mint and citrus. He took another large bite and locked eyes with Lane who sat opposite to him. He looked mad-very mad. Kenny cocked his head a bit to try and understand what was wrong. “Leave, Kenny!” Lane seethed. Kenny raised an eyebrow.                                     

“Why should I do that?” he asked chuckling carelessly, “This is perfect!”

“THIS” Lane yelled, waving his hands about the air, ”isn’t real!”

“Doesn’t matter” Kenny shrugged, then laid down on the perfectly cut grass. He looked directly at the sun but it didn’t hurt his eyes, it just looked like a beautiful softly glowing silver ball.  Lane crawled across the red checkered mat and stood on all fours, peering crossly at Kenny’s face.

“Do you love me, Kenny?” he asked.

“Of course”

“Then snap out of it” Lane hissed, his ‘s’ dragged out like that of a snake “Because I am not Lane!” just as he said that, Lane’s appearance distorted: His fine features morphed into something straight out of nightmares as his skin dissolved away and his eyes bulged to the size of saucers, no longer the color of emeralds but the hue of infected mucus and phlegm. His nails grew out into claws and a long forked tongue flicked at Kenny’s face. “Understand that I am just your lust” it warned, “So you better leave!” He knew completely well that his body was slowly taking control, trying to get him to wake up-for in the real world, Kenny was hardly breathing. He was suffocating himself and he didn’t mind. Yet there were other people who minded-his brother, his friends, his crush, they all hoped for the better, despite not being his parents and right now he was only working towards their heartbreak. He didn’t need the acceptance of everyone to be loved. He willed himself back, his head fighting the powerful tendons of his heart that wrapped around his conscience, pleading it to let go and live in this perfect utopia.

Real World:

Kenny screamed. He gulped down buckets of air and his lungs burned as they filled. His body shook with crippling pain, sending him into howling fits. His muscles twitched and his joints ached as he fell into Emiliano’s burly arms.