Always Watching

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters or the actors.


Always Watching by GreyPenInk
Part1


John Constantine, how I have watched you and seen you grow from afar. Although sometimes not entirely from as far as I watch the rest of you humans.


I remember the scared little boy you were, your gifted big brown eyes looking at the monsters in your world. The way you used to quake with fear whenever your parents would make you shake the hands of the creatures only you could see or when they would leave you alone with one.


The nightmares were the worst; they were always new, forever different, perpetuity violently grotesque and infinity terrifying. Then again they might not have been as bad for you as being awake after them was.


Sometimes after you woke up screaming your mother would rush into your room to hold you. She would keep you in her arms as she pried for your sanity and beg that you not to tell her about your dreams anymore. Sometimes your father, not a very religious man, would come in and lecture you on how your dreams couldn’t be real or on how big boys don’t cry from nightmares. Sometimes neither would come and you were left alone, with no one to take your mind off the images still in your head. So noble you were then, trying to be quiet so your parents could sleep while you would stay awake.


Each time you would stay awake for days after every nightmare, only sleeping when exhaustion came. I loved those nights the best. The nights you were too tired to keep your guard up and deep slumber would let me run my fingers through your dark wavy locks. Your sweet little face was so peaceful while I kept the night terrors away and erased what I could of your memories. I did try to get rid of the more violent and gruesome ones. Yes, I definitely loved those nights the best, when you slept like all the other children I watched.


Oh, but you were special, just not in the way your parents understood you to be. I remember all too clearly how and when the “therapy” started; especially when the talking switched to pills. Poor little ten year olds should never have to take such hard medications, yet the psychiatrists all insisted. For three years it was from one prescription to another. Poor young one, those therapists had you so drugged you didn’t know your arm from your leg. It was eight days after your thirteenth birthday that the doctors and your parents gave up on the drugs and just moved you into an “institution”. The screaming, oh the screaming, particularly at night in that place was enough to drive anyone bonkers. You were never one of those screamers; you had learned to sleep without dreaming long before then. I believe that is why some of the orderlies would give you sleeping pills on the extremely loud nights.


I liked those nights too, when deep sleep would let me touch you again. Your hair was longer then, it framed that boyish face of yours. It was a bit saddening on those nights; to notice that the boy you were changing into a teen. At first it was your height; your limbs had started to get long and gangly. Then it was your lips getting a plush, plump look to them and a slightly darker shade of pink. After that it was the body hair, though that came lightly. You were a beautiful young teen turning into a handsome young man.


I was not the only one to think so, that new nurse the institution got about a month past your fifteenth birthday thought so too. Helen was the one that gave you your first blowjob, though Giggling Gina gave your first kiss to you the year before. I would have preferred it was Giggling Gina instead. After all she was around your age and kindhearted. If only her parents hadn’t moved her to another institution. Helen was too old for you, already in her mid-twenties, for her to be putting that mouth of hers all over you. However, looking back maybe it would have been better if she had stayed more then those few months she had. She would have reported to what that evil Dr. Olmin and his henchmen orderlies were doing to you had she been there.