Angela rolled over in bed and pulled her quilt up around her ears. She shut her eyes, the dull, heavy feeling of sleep finally beginning to overcome her. Somewhere, in the back of her consciousness, Angela dimly made out a noise. Sleep was drawing her in, but part of her was fighting to regain consciousness. The sound came again, louder, pulling Angela out of her slumber. She rolled onto her back and listened for a few seconds. She could faintly hear a odd sort of raspy, wheezing noise. She shook her head and sat up in bed. Pulling on her robe, Angela stepped into the hallway. She could see light trickling out from under a door.

Angela gingerly approached the door until she could lean her ear against it. She listened before quickly recoiling. Angela grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door open. Jack was sitting up in bed, gasping and wheezing.

"Oh my God," Angela breathed. "What's wrong?" Jack just looked at her, his eyes wide with fear. He kept gasping, his chest heaving, his eyes half shut in pain. Angela felt his forehead; it was unnaturally hot and he was sweating profusely.

Jack reached out and grabbed Angela's hands with his own. Angela's immediate instinct was to pull them out of Jack's grasp, for they were icy cold and clammy, despite his feverish condition, but she did not. "Angela..." Jack said hoarsely. The word came out small and strained.

Angela looked at Jack, fear-stricken. Thoughts barreled through Angela's mind as she frantically tried to decide her next course of action. "I need to get my uncle," Angela stood and turned towards the door. But the rasping noise made her turn back. Angela cursed under her breath and scurried back to Jack's bedside.

"Lie down," she ordered. "Now, you..." she trailed off, uncertain. Oh God, I think he's hyperventilating! I need to get Uncle Will! But I can't leave him like this...I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do... The words echoed over and over in Angela's mind.

I have no control. I don't know what to do. What if this is really serious? What if he dies? I can't do anything! I don't know how to do anything. I don't have any power. I don't have any control. No control, no control, no control, no, no, no, no, no, NO! I have nothing! No control. No control in my life, no control here, no control anywhere. Never know what's going to happen next, always moving, always running away. Can't control it. I have no power! I can't control it! I can't make it stop! HOW DO I MAKE IT STOP?!?! I don't know how, I don't know how, I don't know how...damnit, what am I supposed to do?

Angela wrung her hands and glanced around the room, utterly sick with fear. It's like a bad dream. It's just a bad dream. A dream. Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP! Angela squeezed her eyes shut but when she opened them a moment later, nothing had changed. It's wrong. This is wrong. Everything's wrong. This isn't supposed to happen. I need to stop it. I have to stop it. But what if I can't do it? But what if? But what if?! Do something, damnit!

"Jack," Angela said, her calm voice betraying her inner terror, "I'm going to get help. I promise I will be back as soon as I can. Please...I-I'll be back." Angela swallowed uneasily and then stood up and rushed out of the room.

"Johnny!" Angela hissed, sweeping the covers off Johnny's bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Johnny snapped, grabbing for his sheets.

"Get up!" Angela growled, pulling Johnny's legs over the edge of the bed.

"What's going on?" Johnny yelped in annoyance.