If you were diagnosed with Darla and you were still under the care of your parents, they would be informed by your doctor that they had two choices. One, was to take care of you by themselves and two, was to send you to the Darla Home. And it doesn't matter which choice your parents made, because at the end of the day, they would end up saying goodbye to you as you reluctantly stepped into the white van and head for the Home. It if wasn't for the worry of having your siblings' health at risk with you around, it would always be someone. A neighbour, a cousin, a friend. In the end, you were the one they had to part with. Now if you were diagnosed with a higher chances of surviving this illness, the ride on the white van would take you up north, where stood proudly on Nothern Ebay Hill, the Darla Home. The kids you would find there were mostly your age, for they housed you according to your age difference. The kids there had your identical pale face, your slow struts and the constant coughs, but just like you, their laughter reached their eyes. Because in a way or another, you will learn to accept that you could possibly die from the illness but you had friends and were allowed to do absolutely anything that you wanted to. You would wait in anticipation for the weekends because those were the days where your family, friends and relatives could come for visits. They would cook your favorite dish and you would share it with your friends and it would be like one huge picnic outdoor, under the smiling sun. Never mind if the field were surrounded by fences with barbed wires on top. Everyday, you would be able to do your favorite activities. They even had entertainers up to the Home and entertained you with their acts or music. If you were lucky enough, reporters would be there first hand to catch the artists in action and you might just have your picture taken with your favorite idol as he signed your CD collection. Why, you could even surf the internet and found these pictures somewhere. These celebrities would be touched by what they saw and would donate a large sum of money for your Home, where you were promised better accommodities and the high possiblity for a cure. Not all was lost and the hope for some genius to find that cure and make you better again never fade away. For someone who was terminally ill, life was perfect as perfect as it was allowed to be for you. However, if you were diagnosed with Darla and your immune system weren't strong enough to fight even the smallest of bug, you will find yourself taking a drive to the Darla Home down South. Your parents would be assured of your safety, brochures would be given out so as to let them understand more of what you, their child, would be going through at the Home. Your parents would be fed with promises of better living arrangements and complete health care for you. They could see from the brochures, how huge and welcoming the Darla Home was. They too, were promised of better chances of cure thanks to modern science. Faces of the rich and famous could be seen in these brochures, quoting them for their support in finding the cure. Meanwhile, you would be on your way to the Home no one knew or spoke about before. The Home down South where once you stepped inside, no doctors would welcome you and explained to you about everything that was expected of you when you joined them. You would notice immediately that none of the elevators worked. The sick would have to climb the stairs and you could hear no laughter, except the heavy silence that hung around the corridors to your assigned room. You found yourself roomed with people whom as you began to notice as the days went by, looked like a walking corpse. Soon, you felt like one too. And then you learned of the sessions and how cruel life in there would be. You would be told that your parents would not be visiting. It doesn't matter what the reasons were, you will never see or heard of them again. They, would be told of your untimely death and soon, for everyone else outside this Home would come to terms and accept the fact that you were dead, just another victim to Darla. If you were taken under the care of a volunteer who went by the name Kevin Richardson, and you trusted your life upon him, you would be let in to this sinful, deep truth of what went on in this Southern Darla Home only to learn that this very truth was to be kept secret. He and those who kept this huge secret would tell you of how they had been secretly, gathering information to find out the mastermind behind this propaganda. You will learn that the very same group of people you used to put your trust in to run the town was the same group of people who were killing you. You would feel lost in the beginning, wondering if these friends of yours were thinking straight or if they were serious about it. You knew that everything would be cleared once you learn of how they had decided to go about revealing this ugly truth, but for now you were feeling confused. Right now, you would be in my shoes. *~* Back in the safety of their room, he pulled the thinned blanket and tucked them under his chin, taking refuge in whatever comfort he could find there. The warmth was still a chill but it had helped a little. His pale blue eyes were staring ahead into nothingness, the thoughts that were swirling furiously in his throbbing head were anything but the peace he desperately seeked. Howie watched silently from his bed as the hunched figure made his way in the dark. The street light that had invaded through the room cast an eerie shadow on his otherwise white face. It made part of his body bathed in light while the other blended with the dark. As he approached slowly with unbalanced rhythm towards Nick's bed, it felt like as if he was watching a horror flick; The Death approaching it's next destination. He studied Nick's face, unable to read the expression there. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts but somehow, he thought he could see a little confusion and fear drawn somewhere in those eyes. He wondered if his brothers and sisters had looked like that on the very last seconds before they drew their last breaths. But The Death had now sat himself next to Nick on the bed, his face was nothing like he had imagined Death should be. In fact he had readily carved a smile for the blonde, his face a matching pale of his own. He knew it was Brian but a part of him was wishing that it had been The Death and he had made a wrong stop. He should be in the room looking for him instead. How he longed for Death to come for him. The things he would do to see that happen. Brian placed his left palm on Nick's forehead and tried to figure out if he was sick. Those things that they had revealed to him that night in Mark's room was too much for him to swallow. He had warned the young man of the consequences of knowing the truth but he had kept assuring him that he would be all right. Looking at him now, he knew he shouldn't have believed Nick. "Your forehead's too cold Nick, are you okay?" Nick blinked once and turned to face his friend. Brian looked much paler than him and Howie combined. He learnt that sessions do that. He raised his right hand and placing it on top of Brian's hand that was still on his forehead, pulled it away and held it in his grasp. "I think your hand is too warm. Are you sick Brian?" Brian swallowed the lump that had been growing like a malign tumor at the back of his throat. Session had been hard on him lately. He was expecting to get the same 'treatment' as Nick but was surprised that it was the same routine. But having thought that, it wasn't any easy for him. As expected, they had increased the dosage of whatever it was they had injected in him and then it was hell from there. They made him run on a treadmill that was going too fast for him and if they weren't satisfied with whatever it was they were reading on the monitor, he would be push to do more. After what felt like hours, he was freed from the treadmill and the effect of the poison they had injected him with earlier would surface. With cramps invading his entire body it was difficult for him to move and his torturer -the term he had personally given to the doctor since he felt he wasn't qualified to be helping people- had innocently told him that it was all in the name of finding a cure. It nauseate him just thinking about it. Vomiting had been a norm lately and through the pain and suffering, he had took it all in silent. And he wasn't oblivious to the fact that walking was a chore for him lately. His only wish was to die before he was rendered helpless in a wheelchair or worst, lost his sights and just lay in bed. His biggest fear was to finally find himself actually welcoming Death in warm embrace. And yet, he wasn't complaining. No one had ever heard Brian complained. "I think you're the one who should take it light Brian." Nick said as he pushed himself up to a sitting position and heavily rested his back against the hard steels of the headboard. Nick was beginning to worry about his friend. He was showing signs of fatigue. He wondered if that was normal too. Brian shifted uneasily at the edge of the bed, Nick had been right. He looked up to meet the gaze of his friend and even in the dark he couldn't have mistaken the pain he saw in them. "This is nothing new to me Nick, I can handle it." Nick shook his head lightly and smirked, his mind tracing back the path of yesteryears when he had first met Brian. It was a typical Brian Littrell trait, always putting others first before himself. "Can you really Brian? Cause I'm not gonna lie to you, I can't handle another session and I just only had been to one." "No one here is perfectly healthy Nick, everyone is sick. I think it's a waste of time asking if someone is okay huh?" Brian whispered. He forced a giggle and shrugged his shoulders just so Nick would know that he was still able to joke around. "It's never a waste of time to worry about someone." Nick replied as he stifled a cough. His throat was dry and every now and then, he could feel the tingling chill, the effect of the session. "But if you really want to see this plan of ours turn out a success, you have to take care of yourself." "Strong will, I like that." Brian remarked as he straightened his back and looked at Nick admiringly. "Don't ever loose it, we need to see that to keep us going." Brian said and turned towards the dark figure cuddled at the corner of the bed., " Right D?" Howie sighed softly and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was be the spectator, not join in what he had decided was a very emotional day time soap drama. He combed his fingers through his curls and forced the tears not to fall. So quickly, his life had changed so very quickly, and irrevocably. When he had finally recomposed his position, he forced the heavy laden eyelids to open and the dizziness attacked like swarm of bees. The two dark figures now swirling with each other, like a live abstract art, he willed for the image to stop. "D, you awake?" Brian's voice lingered in the dark and when it reached Howie, it sounded like a broken record. And like everything else, the dizziness subsided and the two figures came into focus again. "Going where?" Howie asked, dismissing Brian's guess that he was asleep. Brian grunted loudly and tilted his tired head to one side. "You know what I'm talking about." Howie sighed loudly and started to lye back on the bed, eyes now focused on the dark ceiling. Often, the rays of light would make out patterns there and he had often found himself totally immense into it. It always felt much better to pretend that you were somewhere else, far away from this hell hole. "Yes Nick, we need it." Brian turned his attention back to Nick, the frown on his forehead still visible. He hated it when Howie treated everything so negatively. He knew about his past, he was there to witnessed it first hand and it pained him to see the once positive-thinking young man changed so drastically. If it wasn't for Howie, he would have feel lost in that Home. Howie had welcomed him with so much love, treating him like his own brother. He would share wonderful memories of his family, especially his siblings with him and Brian had always envied him. He was an only child brought up by a single mom. His dad had long passed away and it had been only him and his mom ever since he was five. And it pained him to think of his mom all alone, thinking that she had not only lost her husband, but now her only son. He might be suffering, but he had friends in the Home, his mom had no one. He wished that Howie could see that he wasn't alone. "Well, I think we should just go to sleep now, who knows what tomorrow has in store for us." Brian sighed and got up from the bed. The dizziness came but was gone in a split second. "Good night Nick." He turned and headed towards his bed. "Brian?" "Yeah?" "Will Kevin be here tomorrow?" Nick asked as he painstakingly slid himself back to bed. Brian stopped on his track and turned back. "Yeah. Why?" "Nothing…actually, I think I have an idea how we can make this plan works faster for us." Nick said as he pulled the frail-looking blanket up, making sure not an inch of his body from shoulder down would be exposed. "You do? I can't wait. Goodnight Nick." Brian said and continued his way back to the bed. He wanted so much to ask him of his idea but realized he had bugged him for too long. "Good night Brian." Nick yawned. "Good night Howie." Howie closed his eyes and smile, he wondered how could he ever avoid this boy? "Goodnight Nick," he paused and opened his eyes, staring into darkness in front of him. He knew he shouldn't have been so hard on Brian. "Goodnight Brian." *~* Kevin sauntered into the room with so much ease that it had began to bug Brian. He was the only one who looked tanned around them and after getting so used to it, it felt like they were meant to look all pale and Kevin was the one with a skin problem. But battling soar aching muscles that just wouldn't go away, it choked him to see someone else walking around parading their perfect muscles. "Have you taken your pills Bri?" Kevin asked as soon as he entered. It made Brian felt guilty for thinking the way he did. Kevin had suffered too and as much as he loathed the way he looked then, Kevin was like a Saint to all of them. To him. He was their only hope. Through him, they learnt about life outside of the Darla Home and it was through him that he secretly learnt of his mother's welfare. "Yes doc." He smiled, knowing that Kevin hated being teased like that. "So, I heard you wanna see me?" Kevin asked as his gaze fell on the empty bed next to him. Howie was in session, he noted. The gleam in his eyes immediately faded. Poor Howie. The sudden urgency that was ramming his heart made him felt lost again. How long would it take until everything was out in the open? How many more lives would be lost until he finally did something right? "Actually that blonde kid over there does." Brian said, pointing towards Nick. Kevin nodded and walked over to the new kid. He had his pair of glasses on and was reading a book intensely that he didn't noticed his presence. He took note of the title 'Tell No One'. He thought of the irony of reading that book. "Is it any good?" Kevin asked as he sat on the empty bed next to him. Nick looked up and was surprised to find Kevin there. "Hi, I didn't know you're here." "I know. That book must be really good." Kevin replied as he eyed the book once more. He was searching for the author's name but couldn't find any. "Something I didn't get to finish back then. It's a good thing I decided to bring it with me, this place is so damn boring." Nick replied and placed the book carefully on the side table. He took his glasses off and placed it on top of the black, paperback book. "Tell me about it." Kevin smiled. He turned to Brian and saw that he showed no intentions of trying to hide the fact that he was listening to their conversation. He smiled and turned back to face Nick, who was already sitting up straight on his bed, legs dangling as he swung them lightly back and forth. "So, what is it you want to tell me?" Nick nodded and started to rub his palms together. He had been thinking about it for awhile and although a part of him was saying that it was a stupid idea, the other part was giving him a mount full of reasons why he should voice it out. "You said this whole conspiracy thingy has the rich people supporting it right?" Nick asked for assurance. "Yes." Kevin replied. "Government bodies, police department practically all of them." "Well, if we really want to know what was going on over there, we need someone from the inside." Nick started. He looked at Kevin's expression, hoping that he got his attention. The frown that creased his forehead said that he had. "You have someone in mind?" Kevin asked. "Actually I do. And I can assure you that he will never say No." Kevin studied the young man with interest. Not even a month in the Home and he was already making a difference. He wished that he wouldn't lost his hope, like everyone else gradually did. "So…you want me to talk to this guy?" "Yes. I know where he will be at the exact time when you're supposed to make your rounds at the hospital. Just approach him, he will listen." Nick replied. Brian listened with renewed interest. He wondered if Nick had ever considered the consequences of bringing an outsider into the secret. He wondered if Nick had ever thought how it would affect this someone. He would have probably moved on with his life and accept the fact that Nick had died and now he was about to find out that he was still alive and he would die if he didn't help them all to reveal this truth. Would this certain someone be able to carry the secret if he met up with Nick's family and not tell the truth when he faced the pain suffering of a mother that shouldn't be? "Very well Nick, if you're confident enough about this person, then I'm willing to take the risk." Kevin said softly, suddenly aware that their conversation might be overhead by someone not Brian. "Who is this guy?" "His my bestfriend. You might have heard of his family. AJ Mc Lean." *~* When you make a decision, you weighed their pros and cons. I made up mine and decided that AJ could help us. And true to my word, AJ did help. In fact, it was because of him that we made it this far. It was because of him that I have live long enough to make this documentary. But in doing so, I paid a heavy price for it.