Introduction

It has been two years since the tragic fall of the Backstreet Boys. The year is now 2010 and only a faint memory remains. Their songs are still played. Fans still play their albums in hopes for a miracle comeback.

It was two years ago, July 17, 2008 to be exact, When the tradgedy struck. One of the boys was on his way to the Arena in which they were to play during there US tour for "Unbreakable" . When his limo was struck by a speeding semi. With one in a coma, the Backstreet Boys postponed their tour until further notice. The tradgedy struck fans world wide.

Two weeks later it was announced that he had come out of the coma and was responsive. But in the course of the months to come a shocking discovery remained. Something was not right. He was not himself. His friends and family watched on in horror, fearful that there might be nothing they could do to save him from himself.

He would sit in his house watching a movie or doing something normal like playing with his dogs or on the computer, when suddenly he would hear a voice.

"You're weak you know that?"

He'd try to ignore it.

"Listen to me when I talk to you! You little chicken shit!"

This would go on for days with him shaking his head and telling the voice to go away. He would be shopping and glance at a beautiful woman and she'd smile walking to the next isle and he'd hear it.

"You're pathetic. Can't you see the way she looked at you, you little limp dick?! She knows."

"NO!" He would shout out loud to himself. Causing the other patrons of the grocery store to stare.

"You little pussy they all know you're pathetic! They know you're weak!"

He would go home and try to focus on other things, anything but that. But it continued for weeks, months. The others kept faith that he'd get better. But no one saw the end in sight until it all came crashing down.

He no longer fought the voice inside his head. That new part of him, the part that was held together by that fine thread, surged forward once it snapped. He couldn't fight the insanity that filled him. His once normal self starred back at him from deep inside himself, like a scared child who realized the monsters under the bed weren't just figments of his imagination, but real tangable things that could hurt him.

The remaining three Backstreet Boys, with heavy hearts, announced the end of the group. As that day, December 15, 2008 marked the end and he was admitted to the Culver City Insane Asylum, also known as the Culver City Developmental Center in Culver City, CA a few miles outside West Hollywood.



>> 1

1
They had never stopped coming to visit him since he was admitted in 2008 a little over two years ago. They walked over to the table a little hesitant to see him. He wasn't the same funny, goofy, happy guy they knew. He was different somehow. Scarier.

The security staff brought him in with his wrists and ankles bound with thick leather cuffs that connected the chains. They said it was so he couldn't harm anyone. They said he was dangerous.

His sad brown eyes fell on his friend shackled like some kind of criminal. He knew better. His friend was a calm gentle guy. But the man in front of him glarring at him and the other two, was anything but gentle. He was an angry, hate filled man with no love for anything or anyone. He shook his head. 'What happend to you?' He thought inwardly. He had called Kevin the night before to see if he would come, and just like every time before he refused. Saying he had no strength to see him like this but to say hi for Kristin, Mason and him. He understood Kevin's reasoning but still felt the need for him to come. Even Leighanne and Leigh had come to visit once although that was the first and last time they had. One of the others speaking broke him from his thoughts.

"Hey man Happy birthday. How are you doin?"

A cackle sounded from their friend, an almost evil sound that chilled them to the core. He spat in his direction.

"Go fuck yourself." He let out with a rasp and began to laugh like a madman as if that was somehow a joke. Then glared at him. "What's the matter blondie? Did I scare you Pretty Boy?"

The blonde lowered his head overcome with a heavy weariness. He suddenly no longer wanted to be here.

He slammed his fists on the table causing them all to jump with a start. His angry voice filled the room. "I SAID DID I SCARE YOU PRETTY BOY?! LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU DAMMIT!"

He sighed, "No." He was lying but he wasn't going to admit it and did not want to give him the pleasure of the truth. Truthfully he terrified him. He wasn't his "brother" anymore, he was someone else, something else.

The small part inside of him that was still himself screamed with a hope anyone could hear him. But no one can hear you when you're screaming inside your head. He couldn't bear the looks on their faces. Wanted to reach out and let them know he was okay, he was still there, trapped inside. But this new, angry part of him wouldn't let him out. What had he done to do this to himself.

"LIAR! FUCKIN' LITTLE BITCH LIAR!!" He screamed coming across the table. The blonde flew back almost falling out of his chair.

Security grabbed him and told them that visiting hour was over and took him out. They could hear his maniacal laughter disappearing down the hall.

"Are you okay Nick?" One of the friends asked sympathetically.

"No, I'm not! It's not okay! I don't know him!" He said his eyes filling with tears.

"I know we all want him back."

They all left solemn that afternoon. As they left the parking lot with the rain pouring down, they all silently sent out a prayer for their lost friends safe return.



>> 2

2

She veered her jeep wrangler onto the freeway as she headed to her new job. She graduated college with a PhD in Psychology. As the top graduate in her class and class Valedictorian it wasn't long before she got the call from Culver City Developmental Center in Culver City, CA. CCDC was a center for the mentally insane, and insane asylum. She was eager to get strated with new patients.

When she arrived she was shown around the hospital, introduced to her collegues and lastly, she was shown her office. The words Shania Marie Johnson PhD jumped out at her as she entered. She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face. She was given her new patient files and left to be alone in her office. Her office. It sounded so good. She couldn't believe it was finally happening. Most of her friends were taking jobs as therapists, but with her degree centered around Psychology and Psychopathology; the scientific study of mental disorders; she wanted to be somewhere where she could really delve into it.

She began to look over the files infront of her. Reading up on each of her patients. After thirty minutes of reading she decided to take a break. She took a little stroll in their courtyard and then decided to make a stop in the employee cafeteria before heading back. She got a soda and a snack and went back to her office to finish up.

She sat back at her desk, opened the Dr. Pepper and took a drink. Replacing the cap she sat it down and picked up the Hostess chocolate Donettes and removed one. She opened the last file and gasped putting a hand to her mouth and dropping the chocolatey goodness before it reached her mouth. The name on the file reared it's evil head at her. It was hard to read the name. The name of the man that many a time, was the star of her most secret, sexual fantasies. She read his file and sat back. So many questions proded her mind. Can I help him? Does he want to be helped? It there any hope for him?

She picked up the last page she had read and read the words again.

Patient sent to solitary

From what she gathered he lashed out at some visitors, his friends, who had come to see him on his birthday and landed himself in solitary confindment. Acording to this he was still there.

She walked briskly down the hall rounding the corner to her left towards solitary. She showed her bage to sercurity and they cleared her to go in. She walked down the hall and stopped at the 4th door on the left. Looking through the small rectangular window she saw him banging his head on the wall, then almost in an instant he was at the window turning his head from side to side, staring at her with wicked, crazed filled eyes. She stepped back startled.

He let out and evil cackle, "What's the matter Precious? I scare you?" He spat.

The voice didn't belong to him. She remembered the night in Denver, CO when she met him.

"Hey sweetheart how 'bout a hug?" He said his voice making her most intimate places tingle.

She blushed and hugged him breathing in the scent of him. He signed her CD, took a picture with her and kissed her cheek before heading back to his bus.

That was June 10, 2008, just a month before the accident. She couldn't look at the man before her. He wasn't the same man who's face invaded her thoughts and dreams countless days and sleepless nights. The rest of her day was a blurr. She went home that night and found herself uneasy and unable to sleep. She kept seeing his face staring back at her from the room, the image of him haunting her dreams.



>> 3

3





>> 4

4





>> 5

5





>> 6

6





>> 7

7





>> 8

8





>> 9

9





>> 10

10





>> 11

11





>> 12

12





>> 13

13





>> 14

14





>> 15

15





>> 16

16





>> 17

17





>> 18

18





>> 19

19





>> 20

20





>> 21

21





>> 22

22





>> 23

23





>> 24

24





>> 25

25





>> 26

26





THE END