Chapter 6 – Secret Checkups & Rising Fears
Conor sat on the edge of his dorm bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The faint tremor in his hands, the occasional dizziness, and the persistent headaches no longer felt like fleeting moments. They were becoming part of his life, quiet warnings he could no longer ignore.
He knew he had to see a doctor—but he couldn't tell anyone. Not Chad, not his friends, not even his family. If they knew, they'd worry, and he couldn't bear to burden them. He had spent so many years feeling invisible and unwanted; the last thing he wanted was to become a source of pain for those he loved.
The next morning, Conor slipped out of the dorm quietly, clutching his coat tightly as if it could shield him from the fear gnawing at his chest. The city clinic was only a short walk away, but each step felt heavier than the last. Every passing student, every sound of laughter, reminded him of the life he wanted to protect—the life he feared losing.
The doctor's office was quiet, sterile, and unfeeling. Conor sat nervously in the chair as the doctor reviewed his charts and asked questions, probing gently but thoroughly.
"Your symptoms are concerning," the doctor said, his voice calm but serious. "I want to run some tests, and in the meantime, I'm prescribing painkillers to manage the headaches."
Conor nodded, swallowing hard. The words themselves weren't frightening—yet the truth lurking behind them made his stomach churn. Tests. That means... there's a chance something is wrong. Something serious.
He left the clinic clutching the small pill bottle like a lifeline. Back in his dorm, he hid it at the bottom of his bag, hoping no one would notice, praying no one would ask.
Days turned into weeks, and while the pills offered temporary relief, the symptoms persisted—and even worsened. Fatigue weighed him down, dizziness struck unpredictably, and occasional blurred vision left him unsteady. Yet he continued to smile, laugh, and act normally around Chad, his friends, and classmates.
One evening, Chad noticed something again during a study session. "You're spacing out more than usual... and your hand keeps shaking. Conor, please—tell me the truth."
Conor's heart raced. He wanted to confide in Chad, to let someone see the truth, but the fear of being seen as weak, of being a burden, held him back. "I'm fine," he whispered, forcing a smile. "Just tired, that's all."
Chad's brow furrowed, worry etched deep into his features, but he didn't push further. He simply reached out, gently touching Conor's arm, a quiet reassurance that he was there.
Later that night, alone in his dorm room, Conor poured his thoughts into his diary:
"I'm scared. The pills help... a little. But it's getting worse. I don't want Chad to see me like this. I don't want my friends to see me like this. I don't want anyone to know I'm breaking down. Maybe I'm not meant to be happy. Maybe I'm only meant to disappear."
The words felt heavier than ever. The fear of being unneeded, of being unwanted, pressed down on him like a weight he couldn't lift. He had finally found someone who made him feel alive, yet he felt trapped in the shadow of his own body, his own fear, and his own family's neglect.
Conor hugged his knees, trembling slightly. "I have to be strong," he whispered. "I have to... for him. For me. For... everyone."
Cliffhanger: As Conor drifted off to sleep that night, he clutched the pill bottle to his chest, a silent prayer on his lips: Please let me survive this... let me survive long enough to be with him, to be seen, to be loved.
This chapter establishes:
Conor's secret medical visits
Prescription of painkillers and medication
Worsening of symptoms and anxiety
Emotional depth: fear of burdening loved ones