‘Well, it seems she likes fake-me’

Josh had gone into the bathroom after leaving Stella and Phil alone in his bedroom. He watched himself in the mirror speaking to himself. The way he was feeling inside didn’t match the look on his face in the mirror. He felt weak and broken, but the look on his own face was dreadful, terrifying.

‘Go away and leave me alone, I am a good person. My father…’

‘Your father what? He beat you up? Called you names? Cut out the fantasies and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re not a good person; you’re a presumptuous, egocentric, pathological lying bastard who rapes young women’.

‘No, I’m not, you are, just go away and don’t come back. You’re not real, you’re not real, not real…’

‘Me? Not real? I am very real and you will eventually have to give in, give it up, cut it out and leave with your tail between your legs’.

‘No, no, no, I won’t let you take over again! I won’t let you hurt Stella anymore!’

‘You won’t let me? You are my creation, you have nothing to say. I am letting you take over, because you come in handy so every now and then, but when I want something, like, let’s say to bang that girl out there in your room, I will go and get it’.

‘No, no. I would rather kill myself than to let you do that to her ever again! Do you hear me? You won’t be able to do it again’.

‘Oh yes I will, maybe I can knock this Phil guy out and do it right at this moment’.

‘No, no, no!’

He was feeling his body trying to move towards the door. Then he heard the knocking on the locked door.

‘Josh! Open up, please! Let me help you’, he heard Stella’s voice cry.

‘No… I won’t let… No!’, he yelled and turned around to the mirror and smashed it with his fist.

‘Josh!’, Stella’s voice now sounded hoarse.

Crimson blood was running over his hand and a hot pain ran through his arm.

‘Crap…’, he whispered as he close his eyes tightly.

‘Come on, open up, please…’

His hand reached up to the door lock and turned it over. Stella opened the door abruptly and kneeled down next to him.

‘Oh my God, Josh…’, she whispered as she took his hand to have a good look at it and pulled a shard out of one of the cuts in it.

She pulled back a string of his hair out of his face before she got up and took a towel out of one of the cupboards. Silently she dropped beside him again en wrapped the towel around his hand.

‘I need to go downstairs to get some disinfectant and some bandage. Will you be alright for a little while?’

‘Don’t worry about me, honey, I’ll be just fine’, he said with a grin on his face.

‘Hi Phil’, Stella said as she opened the front door.

It had been raining heavily outside since about half an hour and even though Phil only had to walk a few meters from his car to the front door, his thin blonde hair was soaking wet.

‘Hi Stella, how is he doing?’

‘Resting at the moment, but he’s himself’.

‘Himself?’

‘Yes, himself, I think he might suffer from ehm…what’s it called again? The disorder we talked about this afternoon?’

‘Dissociative identity disorder?’

‘Yes…’

‘What makes you think that? Can I talk to him?’

She had to think before answering that question. She didn’t want to tell him anything really, she just wanted him to help Josh.

‘The way he’s been behaving… Yes of course, he’s upstairs in bed. I don’t think he’s sleeping yet anyway. Thank you for coming’.

‘No problem, you sounded very upset’.

She nodded and showed him the way upstairs. She knocked on the bedroom door and opened it. As she suspected Josh wasn’t sleeping yet, so she turned on the light. He looked very tired though, his eyes completely dull.

‘Hello Josh, I’m Phil’, he said as he reached out his hand.

Josh slowly pushed himself up and took the hand that was reached out to him.

‘Josh’.

‘I’m gonna leave you two to it. I’ll be right downstairs if you need me, okay?’, she said and left the room.

‘Stella called me to come and have a chat with you’, Phil said as he grabbed a chair from one of the corners of the bedroom.

‘She sounded very much upset on the phone and I have noticed she doesn’t look to well; neither do you for that matter. So, do you want to tell me what’s going on?’

‘I guess I’m just not having my time of the year at the moment’, Josh said a little defensive.

He didn’t know the man coming to talk to him, whether he was there to help him or not, he felt it was none of his business.

‘Alright, I understand you don’t feel like talking too much to me. Frankly, it is none of my business…’

I didn’t say that out loud did I? I only thought it, didn’t I?

‘…but I’m here to help you and if you won’t do it for yourself than do it for her’, he said as he pointed in the direction of the door.

Josh looked at the door and thought about everything he had done and how she still wanted to help him.

Why would she still want to help me? I am so not worth it, yet she seems to think I am… Maybe I should tell him… What should I tell him? Everything?

What were you going to tell him exactly? Yes, I can also hear your thoughts, Joshy-boy. Where you really considering going back there, to the time your daddy would beat the crap out of you over something that wasn’t your fault, the time you created me for refuge? I don’t think you would want to do that. Remember the feeling?

Shut up! Maybe he was right all along, maybe I am worthless. I am not worth being helped, but Stella is definitely worth a lot more than the crap I…you’ve been giving her for the past few months.

In that case I should shut up indeed and take some action instead…

No! Please don’t…

‘So, what’s been going on here?’

‘Let’s see…the moment she got here I realized she was smoking hot and decided to do her and so I did, a good couple of times, until she ran off, the bitch!’

‘Josh?’, Phil asked, but when his eyes met Josh’s he felt a cold shiver ran down his back. This wasn’t the Josh he was speaking to just now. He jumped up out of his chair and noticed the grin that had appeared on Josh’s face.

‘Who are you?’

‘Josh’, he said a little too cocky.

‘You’re not Josh’.

‘If you mean the weak, worthless one, then no, I am not Josh, but yet I am him am I not?’

Go away, leave me alone!

Stop being such a woos, let’s have a little fun here, scare the crap out of him.

‘Josh, if you can hear me, you need to be strong, you are stronger than him, after all, you are the real one’.

After all you are the real one bla bla bla. What a feel good new age crap! You already know you’re not stronger than me.

Oh no? I beat you in the hospital, I can do it again! Get out of my head!

Then I wasn’t prepared, I am now.

‘Don’t give up, you can beat him, I know you can’.

Haha, what does this fool know about you! He sure has a large ego! ‘Look at me, I’m mister’, no not mister, ‘DOCTOR Phil’!

Leave me alone…

‘Look who we have there’, Josh said as Stella walked through the door.

‘I think I must agree with you on your diagnoses, Phil said as he gave a quick glance at her. ‘Is it true?’

‘Is what true?’

‘Did he rape you?’

For a moment she felt as if she was choking and thinking back made her feel nauseous.

‘Y-yes…’, she said softly, embarrassed.

Phil stayed quiet for a bit, not knowing what to say.

‘Did you get tested?’, he finally asked her.

‘Oh, crap!’, she exclaimed.

With everything that’s been going on she totally forgot she was pregnant.

‘Oh crap? Don’t worry, I don’t have any STDs, had myself tested quite some time ago. But then again, you already knew you don’t have any STD either…Judging by your expression’, Josh said intervening the conversation.

Oh God…she’s pregnant… No, that can’t be true…

Oh yes Joshy-boy, she’s definitely pregnant. She doesn’t even have to tell, her expression made it obvious enough.

‘Josh, please… Keep fighting, don’t give up…’, she begged.

He got up from the bed and walked towards her. She reversed as far as she could, until she felt her back against the wall. Phil grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull him back, but in vain. Josh took a blind swing and hit his nose with his elbow and Phil let go of his shoulder. He continued moving toward Stella. He pressed his body against hers and grabbed her hips, his face only an inch away from hers.

Let go of her, get away!

‘Josh, I know you’re in there somewhere. Don’t let him control you. You created him, not the other way around’, she begged as she forced herself to look into his eyes.

A grin was forming around his lips, but then he let go of her and stepped back, his hand reaching for his head. A sign of agony escaped as he bended over and fell onto his knees.

‘Josh!’, she kneeled down beside him.

‘D-did I get you pregnant?’, he asked her as he looked at her seriously.

She didn’t reply, but looked away instead.

‘Well? I did, didn’t I?’, he grabbed her upper arms a little more harsh than he meant to.

‘Ouch’.

Her eyes were drawn back to him again.

‘I’m so sorry… I can’t tell you how sorry I am’.

He was out of breath and his head was killing him. He turned his head towards Phil, who was still sitting on the floor against the bed, confused of what just happened.

‘I’m sorry, about your nose’, he said, got up and walked out of the room.

Stella got up and went to Phil.

‘Is it broken?’

‘I don’t think so; we need to get to him before he does something stupid again. We need to get rid of ‘the other Josh’. I’ve never seen an alter ego this strong. Usually it’s the alter ego that’s enduring panic attacks and such, they are never violent. His eyes… It was almost as if I was looking into pure evil. We need to weaken the alter ego’.

‘How?’

‘Maybe some meds may help, but I need to know when and why this alter ego was ‘created’. If we can get to that, we might be able to weaken it by convincing Josh, the real one, that he doesn’t need this alter ego anymore’.

‘He wants to get rid of it, so I suppose he already knows he doesn’t need it’.

‘No, he’s trying to convince himself of it, but he doesn’t truly believe it. You were doing the right thing back there, ignoring the alter ego, it worked. He believes you. It didn’t work when I told him he could fight it, but when you begged him to fight, not to give up, he did and he could beat the alter ego’.

‘So what are you saying?’

‘I think you might, at this point, be the only one who can help him; you’re the only one affecting both the real Josh – convincing him to fight – and the alter ego – weakening him by supporting the real Josh, believing in the real Josh. I can’t help him, you have to’.

‘So, Richard, I believe you have some news for us too, fresh from the showbiz world’.

‘Oh yes, Michael, you bet I’ve got news. The cute brown-eyed crooner whose been behaving promiscuous earlier this week already, has now, allegedly by accident, taken the wrong medication resulting in an allergy attack. He has been in the hospital for a good couple of hours. This footage was taken when he was coming out of the hospital’.

‘Allegedly? By accident?’

‘If you’d ask me I would believe he tried to commit suicide. In his case I definitely wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror anymore. At this point he has been released, so who knows he might try it again some time soon and succeed this time’.

‘Well, it’s too bad though, such a talented singer ending up the way he did. I never…’  

Stella turned of the television and sighed. She had brought Josh upstairs to his bed so he could rest. Just in case she would be checking in on him at least every two hours. She had promised the doctor she would make sure Josh would go into psychotherapy, but hadn’t called Phil yet to ask him for the favor. He surely wouldn’t mind helping her out, but what was she going to tell him? That Josh raped her several times, but that it wasn’t really him, but his alter ego? Would he believe that?

Come on, he’s a psychiatrist. For sure he’s seen worse, more unbelievable things. Besides, he’s your friend isn’t he? Surely he would check it out at least before turning you down.

She glanced at the phone for a second before she decided she really needed to call Phil, she couldn’t deal with this on her own, that was one thing she knew for sure.

‘Hello, Phil Monroe’.

‘Hi, Phil, it’s Stella…’, she spoke softly, hoping he was still able to hear her.

‘Stella! Is everything alright? What happened to Josh? I saw it on television just now’.

‘I’m alright… He’s not doing so well at the moment. C-can you please help him?’, her voice started to tremble and she felt tears coming back to her eyes, but she swallowed them away. ‘I know it’s late but h-he… He really needs help, professional help…’, she nearly whispered.

‘Give me an hour, okay? I need to finish off something and I’ll be on my way to you’.

Stella sighed and felt some tension flowing out of her body.

‘Thank you, see you soon’, she said and hung up.

She put down the phone and softly walked up the stairs to go and check on Josh. Standing in front of the bedroom door she hesitated a moment. A cold shiver ran down her back.

What if he’s not himself?  What if is he’s the other Josh, waiting for me to come and check?

She stood there a minute, quiet, listening for any sound to make her turn around and head back down stairs, but she heard nothing. He didn’t even snore, or at least breathing heavily as he usually would whenever he was sleeping, but there was no sound suggesting he was either, no television, no radio.

Maybe he’s reading a book? Books don’t make noise. Or maybe he’s waiting quietly for me to come see him and rape me again… No…no, he’s not…

Then she heard him turn over and she moved her slightly trembling hand to the door handle. She opened the door softly and walked in slowly.

‘Josh?’, she whispered as she bended her head around the corner.

He wasn’t facing her, but turned over when he heard her voice. The room was dark, so she couldn’t really see his face.

‘Stella…’, he whispered a little surprised.

‘Hi… I was just coming to see if you were okay…’

She walked closer to the bed, but stayed at a safe distance from him, just in case.

‘I uhm, I called Phil, he will be heading over here just now and he will help you, or at least try…’

‘W-who’s Phil?’

‘He’s a psychiatrist, a forensic psychiatrist, he’s a colleague’.

Josh didn’t say anything; he just turned on his back and looked out the window on the other side of the room.

‘You need help, Josh… And I can’t help you, not on my own…’

She moved closer and sat at his bedside. She took his hand.

‘Are you that cold? You’re hand is freezing!’, she exclaimed as she rubbed her hand onto his in an effort to warm it a little.

When Josh didn’t respond she put his arm under the covers and pulled them up a little higher until the reached his chin. She got up, took another blanket out of the closet and spread it out over the first one. She sat down next to him again and gently stroked his hair when he turned his face towards her again. When she touched his cheek she felt water on her fingers, tears… She saw the tears in his eyes sparkle in the ray of moonlight peeping through the curtains that she hadn’t closed properly earlier.

‘You’re gonna be okay…’, she whispered as she wiped away the tears from his cheek.

For a moment he laid his hand on top of hers on his cheek and closed his eyes.

‘Thank you’.

She put down the phone and softly walked up the stairs to go and check on Josh. Standing in front of the bedroom door she hesitated a moment. A cold shiver ran down her back.

What if he’s not himself?  What is he’s the other Josh, waiting for me to come and check?

She stood there a minute, quiet, listening for any sound to make her turn around and head back down stairs, but she heard nothing. He didn’t even snore, or at least breathing heavily as he usually would whenever he was sleeping, but there was no sound suggesting he was either, no television, no radio.

Maybe he’s reading a book? Books don’t make noise. Or maybe he’s waiting quietly for me to come see him and rape me again… No…no, he’s not…

Then she heard him turn over and she moved her slightly trembling hand to the door handle. She opened the door softly and walked in slowly.

‘Josh?’, she whispered as she bended her head around the corner.

Fortuna90:

lonesomeaesthetic:

halijani:

plienv:

raspberrypatch:

jgrolol:

If you’re a Grobie reblog with your twitter username! I’m creating a listing and want to add you to the JGroArmy! Also a fun way to meet new tweety Grobies.

Mine: SherryBayBay

 dutchraspberry :)

 plienv :)

halijani :)

@lonelyaesthetic :D

 so if people reblog my post, does that give me a higher rank in the army?

(Source: joshgrobanlolz, via raspberrypatch)

‘Josh?’, Stella asked as she walked into the room.

He turned his head away from her. She walked up to the bed and stood beside it, looking down at him. The bleeps of the heart monitor were high and going fast. She looked at the monitor: 160. She turned her head back at Josh. He was wearing a greenish hospital shirt and has a white band around his wrist. They had hooked up an I.V. and the doctor had told her they had done some blood tests to see if he was still in immediate danger, but it didn’t seem that way. They had given him some anti-histamine medication to resolve the allergic reaction completely. They took some more blood after the meds to see if they were working.

‘Josh, please say something… Or at least look at me…’, she said and felt tears coming up in her eyes again.

She touched his hand and felt he wanted to pull it away, but didn’t have the strength too. She heard him sigh and knew he was crying. She sat on his bed, holding his hand and looking at him. He was weak and sad.

‘Why did you come?’, he asked softly and she may even have heard a little anger and disappointment in his voice.

‘I was worried…’

‘Worried? Why in the world would you be wo…’

‘Josh, I believe you, alright’, she interrupted him.

He shook his head in unbelief and she saw the tears on his cheek. He still wouldn’t look at her. His hand lay motionless and weak in hers.  Then all at a sudden he turned his head towards her.

‘Thank you for saving my ass back there’, he said quite cheery.

His hand was now holding hers tightly and his eyes were piercing her body. She tried to let go of his hand, but he was holding it too firmly. She felt a sense of fear running through her body. She backed away as far she could, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand.

‘Aren’t we friends anymore?’, he asked a little sarcastic.

‘If his alter ego speaks to you, do not respond!’, she heard Phil saying in her mind.

She closed her eyes for a moment trying to catch her bearings.

‘Josh, if you can hear me, please try to find your way back… Don’t give up…’, she whispered as she looked straight into his eyes.

His eyes looked dark, but had a sparkle in them. He seemed to enjoy this endless fight.

‘Josh is not here and he’s not coming back, well, not the Josh you want to see, that is’.

‘Josh, I know you’re there’, she said trying to ignore his alter ego. ‘Don’t give up, it can be treated. You can get help’.

‘There is nothing to help. Face it, I am much stronger, I am much better, I am much smarter and I am not such a loser. Why are you not answering me?’

‘Please Josh, try… I’ll help you… I’m here for you…’, she whispered through her tears.

Suddenly she saw a spark of sadness and compassion in his eyes. She knew he was trying to fight his alter ego.

‘What are you doing?!’, he hissed through his teeth.

She moved closer to him and touched his face with her hand and turned it towards, forcing him to look at her.

‘Josh, come back to me’.

Then he closed his eyes and let go all tension in his body. He breathed heavily and seemed exhausted.

‘Josh?’, she asked softly and carefully.

He opened his eyes and swallowed away the clump in his throat. She saw his eyes watering with tears again. She softly caressed his cheek and he turned his face towards her.

‘I can’t do this…’, he softly cried.

‘You’re not alone…’

She bended over and hugged him. She felt his hands softly and still weak on her flanks. They stayed like that until the doctor came in about 15 minutes later. She got up and wiped away her tears quickly as she turned towards the doctor.

‘You’re blood tests look good, you’re free to go home, Mr. Groban’, he said and nodded.

‘Thank you, doctor’, Stella answered when she realized Josh was not responding at all and squeezed his hand a little.

As the doctor walked out she handed Josh his clothes.

‘How did you get here?’, he asked softly.

‘I took your car…’, she said a bit concerned.

‘M-my car?’

‘Don’t worry; it’s still in one piece and no scratches whatsoever’.

She waited for him to get dressed and supported him as they walked out to the car. She helped him into the passenger’s seat and looked into his eyes for a minute before they left. He looked back at her, all the sadness of the world in his eyes. He looked extremely tired and scared. She touched his cheek and then walked over to the driver’s seat and drove off.

The days flew by for Stella as well. She spent them working, working and more working. Paul would come in so every now and then to check on her, but she never told him anything, nor did she tell her parents. Every time they asked her how everything was she told them all was fine. When they would ask how Josh was doing she would tell them he was busy, but good. She hadn’t cleared her mind yet with everything that happened and could almost not grasp the fact that she was pregnant. She of all people! Many people try and don’t get pregnant for months and she got raped twice and she was pregnant?

How could that be? I am even taking birth control pills, okay, not very consistent with that, but still, it should do something at least…

She was wondering how Josh was doing, because he seemed really sad at the hospital. She had been thinking about what he said for a long time. It sounded very unbelievable, but he seemed very confident.

What about the headaches? Are they caused by trying to fight this ‘evil’ side? This is crazy, Stella, things like this don’t happen! But how do you explain the feeling you got when you looked into his eyes the day he came into your room with this terrible headache? What did he come for anyway? To rape her again? If he came for that, then why didn’t he? Did he get the control back? Why did he get the control back? He seemed scared when she touched him, afraid of what he would do? His headache went away when she held him close to her, when her fear made place for pity. Did that help him? Love him instead of fear him? Don’t be silly, Stella, there is no such thing as an ‘evil side’, he raped you, not some sort of demon inside of him. That only happened in books and movies. Get it out of your head.

But she didn’t get it out of her head. She couldn’t help but thinking of him and his eyes, the things she saw in those big brown eyes and how she feared them at one point, but pitied them at the next. He did seem two different persons at different times. She kept seeing those sad eyes, but felt the dark eyes burning into her body again with every thought of what happened.

For the past days she had been having morning sickness and didn’t feel like doing too much then. She would work until late at nights and sleep in at mornings to avoid the sickness, but she couldn’t really sleep late, so that didn’t help too much.

Eventually she thought she’d check in on Josh. She didn’t call, she just googled him. She found a couple of bad articles. He hadn’t been showing up anywhere for the past weeks, no one has heard from him, he seemed to have been partying and left…

…with one of the girls’. The most disturbing thing was that the girl Josh Groban took off with ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and the girl happened to be there for her 18th birthday.

Apparently the brown eyed singer likes his girls to be very young, wearing stiletto heels, miniskirts and see through tops…

What was going on with him? What was he thinking? Maybe he was telling the truth… Stella, this is bullshit, get it off your mind…

Instead of getting it off her mind she called Phil, the forensic psychologist.

‘Phil, do you have some time?’

‘Yeah, do you want me to come up?’

‘If you don’t mind, that would be great’.

‘On my way’.

10 minutes later she was explaining the situation to Phil. She had offered him a cup of coffee, but he just had some. He sat on her couch and she sat behind her desk.

‘What you are describing here is a real condition. It’s not just a Stephen King creation. About 8-10% of the American population suffers from it. It’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder. It’s by definition something completely different to Schizophrenia. A lot of people mix up these two disorders. In the case of Schizophrenia, it most commonly manifests as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking and it is accompanied by significant social or occupational dysfunction rather than multiple identities as is the case with DID.

A person, suffering from DID, has multiple distinct personalities that will routinely control the persons behavior completely. Usually the ‘real’ personality has no idea of what happened while the other personality, his alter ego, had control over his body. This means he is not aware of having this disorder. From what I hear from you he is very well aware of the disorder, although he doesn’t know it is a disorder, he does know what is happening to him. This disorder usually manifests after some sort of trauma like child abuse or maybe losing a parent at a very young age. Do you know anything about that?’

She stared at Phil with her jaw nearly on the floor. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘H-he did say something about an abusive father…beating him with anything for no clear reason at all…’

‘That could very well have caused it. Is there any way you can tell the difference between the real Josh and the alter ego? I mean, usually it manifests in difference in speech, sometimes even looks’.

‘H-his eyes… I can tell the difference by looking into his eyes’, she said softly.

‘You know what they say; the eyes are the doorway to the soul’.

‘What are the symptoms?’

‘Obviously multiple mannerisms, but also unexplainable headaches…’

‘Headaches?’, she interrupted him.

‘Yes, headaches. I suppose he is suffering from that too?’

‘Yes, h-he is…’, she said far away in thoughts about the day he came into her room with that bad headache again.

So it was caused by his ehm…alter ego…

‘Usually also severe memory loss, flashbacks of abuse or trauma, unexplainable phobias and frequent panic attacks. Also, depression is a very frequently appearing symptom. In most cases the persons eventually attempts to commit suicide…’, he explained a little carefully.

‘Suicide?’, she asked and jumped up. ‘Suicide?’, she asked once more unbelieving.

‘Yes, suicide’.

‘I-I have to go’, she said and ran out.

‘If his alter ego speaks to you, do not respond!’, he shouted after her.

She just waved as a sign that she had heard him. She ran out and held a cab. She jumped in and told him where to drive. She took the phone out of her pocket and dialed Josh’s home number. She didn’t get any answer, nor did she get any answer when she tried his cell. She looked at her watch. It was 10:35pm already. She ringed his home phone again.

‘Josh, if you’re there please pick up the phone! Please, pick up…’

She hung up again. It took another 10 minutes before the cab would arrive at Josh’s house. She jumped out of the car.

‘Miss?’, the cabdriver called her.

‘Sorry’, she said and handed the driver some money.

‘Keep the change’, she said and ran through the gate.

She rumbled in her pockets for the keys, but couldn’t find them. She rang the doorbell, but no one answered. She walked over to the window. She saw Josh’s arms and top of his head sticking out from behind the couch. She panicked and ran back to the door. She searched for a key, but couldn’t find one in the jars with flowers, under the doormat or above the door. She picked up one of the jars and broke the glass in the door. She opened the door and ran inside.

She saw Sweeney crying and licking Josh’s face and pushing it with his nose. Josh lay motionless on the floor, still breathing, but very difficult. His lips and tongue were swollen. He looked pale, his lips were turning blue and red spots were occurring on his face.

‘Josh!’, she dropped beside him. ‘Josh, can you hear me?’

He gave no response. She looked beside him. There was an orange-like bottle with a white screw top lying on the floor next to a broken glass. She picked it up.

Penicillin – Lindy Groban…

‘Josh…’, she whispered with tears in her eyes.

She got up and searched his bag next to the front door. There was nothing in there she could use. On her way upstairs she dialed 911, telling them to hurry up, because Josh had gone in to anaphylactic shock. In the bathroom she searched through the cupboards until she found the epinephrine pen. She ran back down skipping the last three steps and fell down beside Josh’s motionless body. She moved his shirt from his arm and injected a shot of epi.

She grabbed Sweeney’s empty food bowl from the kitchen and put it beside Josh. She lifted him up and held his face over the bowl. She stuck her finger in his throat causing him to throw up. She had both arms wrapped around his upper body, holding him over the bowl. He still had a lot of pills in his stomach.

‘That’s it’, she whispered.

When he was finished throwing up she turned him around in her arms and pulled him close to her. The swelling in his face had gotten less and his lips were returning to their original color.

‘It’s okay…it’s okay…’, she whispered in his ear as she rocked him a little.

Tears had been rolling down her cheeks and were now falling on Josh’s face. The ambulance had arrived and the doctors came running in.

‘Alright, miss, you can let go of him now’, one of the doctors said standing beside her, but she didn’t let go; instead she held him even tighter and kept rocking.

The doctor that told her to let him go grabbed her arms gently and pulled them away from Josh. The other doctor caught him and laid him on the floor. He gave him an oxygen mask and together they laid him on a stretcher.

‘Josh…’, she walked up to the stretcher and the doctors waited with carrying him out to the ambulance.

She took his hand and with her other hand she stroke his hair. She looked into his eyes and he looked so very sad. She could see the tears in them. She bended over, kissed his forehead.

‘Everything will be alright…’, she whispered, after which the doctors carried him out.

Days passed by, the days became a week and a week became two weeks. Josh had visited his mother, but she wasn’t at home. He had waited for her for two hours. In the days after his visit his mother tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up the phone. Every time she came to his house he didn’t open the door. When she peeked through the window she saw him sitting in his couch, staring outside. He had a key to his parent’s house, but not the other way around. She had tried to get his attention, but it was as if he was lost inside his own mind. It had really scared her, but there was nothing she could do.

Sometimes he ate some crackers and drank some water, but he didn’t feel like eating anything at all. His body had gone weak and so had his mind. He hadn’t touched the piano or the electric drum set, he hadn’t gone to any of the shows he was supposed to appear on, his answering machine was full of messages from angry or concerned directors asking him why he didn’t show up. He didn’t even walk Sweeney; instead he let him out in front of the building to do what he had to do and went back inside. Sometimes Sweeney would sit next to him on the couch trying to get his attention by pushing against Josh’s shoulder with his nose, but he didn’t get any response. Eventually he just lay down at his daddy’s feet, not eating anymore either.

Josh’s wound had started to infect because he didn’t change the bandage or at least clean the wound. It did hurt him, but he couldn’t care less.

Memories of his childhood and everything that he had done in the past month crossed his mind continuously.

‘Come here you useless little dickhead!’, he heard his father scream as he walked up the stairs with heavy footsteps.

He was 8 years old and hiding terrified under his bed. He heard the footsteps come closer to his bedroom door and the door opened slowly.

‘Where are you little fucktard?!’

His body was trembling and his breathing was heavy. He was sure his father would hear it, but he couldn’t get it under control. He had come home from school all dirty and wet. All his school books were soaked because a few bullies had pushed him into a ditch on his way home after school.

He looked at his father’s feet from under the bed with big scared eyes. His father bended over and pulled away the covers. Josh saw the big grimace on his face. His father pulled harshly out from under the bed. He hit his head very hard on the side. His father then knocked him down on the ground again. He crawled away into a corner of the room.

‘Take off your shirt’, he heard his father say rigorous.

He didn’t dare to move. He saw his father taking his belt out of his trousers.

‘I said, take off your shirt!’, he said with a raised voice.

He walked up to Josh quickly and pulled off his shirt violently. He even ripped the shirt at its hemming. His father was holding on to his arm very tight, it was hurting him.

‘Please, daddy, don’t hurt me’, he cried.

He saw his father’s hand with the belt moving backwards. He closed his eyes tight. When the belt hit his back he wanted to scream, but there was no sounds coming out of him. A burning pain ran through his trembling body. Bitter tears of fear and pain were rolling down his cheeks and his father’s strong fingers were still clutched around his tiny arm, leaving a bruise. He felt the belt on his back again and clamped his teeth tightly onto each other.

‘This’ll teach you, you useless piece of shit!’, his father shouted in his ear.

He wanted so badly something to cling on to but there was nothing there, not a teddy bear, not a pillow or a book. He couldn’t reach out to any of those. The belt bruised his back severely and even ripped away some pieces of his skin.

It seemed like hours, but eventually his father let go of his arm and walked out of the room. His back was hurting so much and he could see the bruise on his arm from his father’s fingers. He crawled to his bed and climbed onto it. He lay down on his belly crying for hours until he finally fell asleep, exhausted from the hard day at school, the beating and crying…

Tears rolled down Josh’s face remembering everything that happened. Not long after that day he had created his ‘imaginary friend’ who ‘taught’ him to fight back.

What were you expecting? That she’d believe you? You really must have been nuts. Really, man, get yourself together! Let’s get out there tonight and have some fun!

‘No… I don’t want to… Leave me alone’, he whispered through his tears.

Maybe I need to push you a little harder then…

He felt his body getting up and walking towards the door.

‘No, leave me alone… Please, just let me…’

He closed his eyes tight. His headache was back and getting worse with the second.

Yes, come on, let’s go! Lots of hot girls out there!

‘No…no… I’m not going. Let me be…’

No matter how hard he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t. He went out, got himself wasted and got himself a girl. The next morning he didn’t even remember how he got home. He had passed out on the couch, was feeling very miserable and had thrown up. His head was killing him even more than before. He got up and stumbled to the kitchen where he got a glass of water and some ibuprofen. He got back to his couch and fell into it. The phone rang, but he didn’t answer so it went to voicemail.

Hi, this is Josh, I’m not in right now, but if you leave a message I’ll call you back. Probably. Maybe.

‘Josh, it’s me’.

It was his mother.

‘Josh, please call me back. What is going on with you? There are pictures all over the web with you drunk, having a very good time with some ladies…in public… What are you doing to yourself? Please, call me back…’

He jumped up.

Pictures? What time is it? 2:30pm already?

He turned on his computer to see the pictures for himself. He looked…horrible…disgusting… It had an article to go with the pictures:

Paris Hilton was not the only one who’s been partying with the other sex. These pictures here proof that Mr. Josh Groban also had been partying all night long.

This club is well known for the many girls and lots of alcohol consumption and Mr. Groban was not an exception to the rule. Maybe the sweet-looking, big brown puppy-eyed singer and songwriter, loved by soccer moms and teenage girls, is not as innocent as he appears to be. A close source told us that Mr. Groban was a little too intimate with two very young looking girls. The same source saw him leaving with one of the girls with his hands roaming all over her body.  

A bartender from the club also confirmed that Josh Groban indeed bought a lot of alcohol consumptions and not only for himself. It’s not confirmed that the girls intended to get drunk on Josh’s behalf but it seems as if that were the case Mr. Groban didn’t mind. ‘He looked at the girls if they were some sort of meat he could eat so I wasn’t surprised when he left with one of the girls’.

The most disturbing thing was that the girl Josh Groban took off with ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and the girl happened to be there for her 18th birthday.

Apparently the brown eyed singer likes his girls to be very young, wearing stiletto heels, miniskirts and see through tops.~ Written by: Bethany Whisper for People’s Magazine.

Josh sat there staring at the screen with his jaw nearly on the floor. What had he done? He couldn’t even remember anything of the night at all… He took a deep breath as he felt fresh tears coming to his eyes. He didn’t know what to do; everything was falling down on him. Sweeney was laying on his feet and he bended over to pet his dog. He didn’t move.

‘Sweeney?’, he whispered.

He didn’t get any reaction. The dog lay motionless on his feet.

‘Sweeney!’, he screamed and kneeled down next to his dog.

Sweeney opened his eyes, but didn’t move. Josh picked up his dog and sat back on the couch with Sweeney on lap. He realized that Sweeney hadn’t eaten anything for the past few days. He held his dog tight, cuddling it. He gave him a kiss and got up.

‘I’m gonna get you something to eat, bud’.

He came back with the food bowl and put it on the ground. Sweeney got off the couch and slowly walked towards the food in front of his daddy. He sat down, looking up at his daddy. Josh sat down and petted his dog.

‘Go on, eat something’, he said and gave his dog another kiss.

Sweeney bended over and ate his food. He shined out the bowl and went and lay down back.

‘Very good, bud…’, he said and cleared away the bowl.

Josh came back and sat on the floor with his dog, leaning against the couch and staring at the black television screen. He was feeling nervous, his head was killing him, his stomach was turning over, he felt tears rolling down his face again, his hands were trembling and his heart was beating fast. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He had no control over his own body anymore, he had done a lot of horrible things and was feeling more useless than all the times his father had told him how useless he was. Everything started turning and he passed out.

When he woke back up everything was dark. He looked at the clock on his cell. 10:30pm… He had been out for hours and yet he felt exhausted. He pulled himself up, turned on the light and went into the toilet. He watched himself in the mirror. His face was pale and he had bags under his swollen eyes from crying. He was disgusted by his own sight, not just because he looked horrible, he was disgusted by himself, by what he had done and who he was…although he didn’t even know who that was.

He walked out and went to his coat. He took a orange see through bottle out of one of the pockets.

What’s that? What are you going to do?

‘Shut up!’, he screamed and held his hands over his ears. Tears watered his eyes again.

Josh, what are you going to do? Josh…?!