Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> KoRn
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Jonathan lay in his bunk staring up at the ceiling. "Another sleepless night." he groused,
turning angrily onto his side. "This shit is really starting to get to me." he said to himself,
half raising up and punching the pillow into shape. Sinking back into the bunk, Jonathan sighed
loudly. It had been more than a week since he'd slept through the night and his mind was beginning
to play tricks on him. Several times he'd thought he'd heard someone call his name, but when he'd
made the rounds everyone was asleep. Jonathan had checked each bunk, whispering his bandmates
names, but had gotten no response. He'd entertained the idea of waking Munky, just so he'd have
someone to talk to...but the guitarist had looked so peaceful that Jonathan didn't have the heart to
So he'd gone back to his bunk to wait out the night alone. Now it seemed the walls were closing
in and the voices were creeping back.
"Jon-ny? Come out, come out...where ever you are..." It was a sing-song whisper, drawn out and
Jonathan clenched his teeth, determined to hold on to his fraying sanity, to ignore what wasn't
"Sweet, sweet Jon-ny...do you want some ice cream?" the voice hissed, suddenly familiar.
Jonathan dug his heels into the mattress, shoving himself upright and clutching the pillow across
his chest. "Not real..." he moaned, "Not real...it's all in my head..."
"What'sa matter Jon-ny? Aren't you happy to hear from your old neighbor? Don't you want to play
our special games tonight? Don't you want to play Hide and Seek??"
Jonathan's breath was caught in his throat. Just like a bad dream...just like in the past, he had
no voice with which to scream for help. Heavy footsteps sounded outside his bunk and he felt a
panic attack coming on strong. As the curtain was ripped back, Jonathan's vision faded away and he
slumped sideways into the corner, still clutching the pillow.
The next thing he was aware of was Munky bent over him, concern clearing the sleep from his eyes.
He had one knee on the edge of the bunk, leaning in to reach his friend.
"Hey man, are you OK? I heard you making a ruckus..." Munky trailed off, noticing the way
Jonathan was crammed into the corner, trying to make himself small. "Were you dreaming of him
again?" he asked softly.
"Kind of." Jon replied listlessly, "I haven't been sleeping well and I started freaking
out...hearing his voice."
"What did he say?"
"Doesn't matter...could've been singing 'O Holy Night' and it would've still made me freak."
Jonathan paused a moment, then pressed his face into the pillow he still held. "It seemed so real!"
he sobbed, shoulders trembling.
Munky climbed into the bunk, pulling the curtain shut behind him. He propped himself up next to
Jonathan, close enough that their shoulders touching. "He'll never hurt you again, Jonathan." he
began in a low tone, only to be cut off.
"I know he'll never hurt me again! Not physically, anyway! But look at me now...twenty something
years later and I break down if I hear his voice! Oh, and the best part?" Jonathan let out a thin
laugh before continuing, "His voice is in my head, so I can look forward to hearing it for many more
years to come!"
Munky sat there, stunned, unsure of what to say to such a statement. Finally he placed one arm
around Jonathan's shoulders and pulled him close. Sobbing brokenly, Jonathan dropped the pillow and
turned his body into the embrace, letting Munky cradle him.
Long moments passed as Jonathan's tears ran hot on Munky's bare chest. They said nothing as Munky
stroked Jon's dread and rocked him slowly. Eventually Jonathan's sobs quieted and Munky asked, "How
"Better." came the muffled reply. Jonathan sniffled and turned his head to the side, sealing one
ear against Munky's chest. He could hear the steady beat of the guitarist's heart, lulling him.
"I'm glad it was you who heard me tonight. I almost woke you up before it got too bad, but I didn't
want to bother you..." His voice was strained, still on the edge.
"Anytime you need me, it's no bother." Munky replied, brushing a tear from Jonathan's cheek.
"I'll always be there for you." Another tear dropped, rolling down Munky's chest and pooling in his
navel. Jonathan let out a small laugh, sounding more like a sob, "Thank you..." was all he managed
before breaking down again.
Munky rested his chin against the top of Jonathan's head and breathed deeply, taking in his unique
scent. No matter how hard they played, or how long they went without washing, Jon always smelled
the same. There was something comforting about that. Munky continued playing with Jonathan's hair,
stroking and rearranging his dark dreads. He wished there was something he could do to help, to
make his friend's pain go away. There were times when it hurt him just to look into Jon's eyes, to
see the haunted, glazed stare. Munky had once sworn he would kill the bastard that had hurt his
friend so terribly. Kill him with his bare hands, if neccesary. He remembered the sad look Jon had
given him. The way he'd shook his head and said, "Thanks for the offer...but it doesn't matter if
he's dead or alive..." Now Munky knew what he meant by that statement. Dead or alive, it didn't
matter because it still survived in Jonathan himself.
Eventually, Jonathan's sobs stopped and his body relaxed. Munky rocked him gently, listening to
him breathe raggedly in the dark. Jonathan was the first to break the silence.
"I think I might be able to sleep now..."
"You want me to get out of your way?"
"No! I mean...I think I can sleep as long as you'll stay with me. Will you..?"
"Of course." Munky answered, his voice gentle, "I told you all you have to do is ask..."
"Thank you...for everything. I really don't know where I'd be without you..."
"You don't have to thank me, Jonathan. Just sleep now...we'll talk more tomorrow." He released
Jon from his embrace, allowing him to lay down.
Jonathan turned onto his side, facing away from Munky, waiting. Munky wrapped his arms around his
friend once more, spooning against him. Burying his face in Jon's hair, he breathed deeply then
whispered, "No more nightmares...not tonight."
"No nightmares..." Jon answered quietly, before slipping into a dreamless sleep.
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The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.
Please see the Terms of Service for more information.