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Published: 2015-03-25 04:34:46 +0000 UTC; Views: 420; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 0
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He suddenly started awake. How long had he been asleep? The countless filled out notebooks with Evan's memories and hopes and dreams and aspirations were still sprawled out across the sheets, their pages spread. Upon closer inspection, all the notebooks had been flipped out to pages with photographs of a dark haired girl posing next to his smiling figure. He tried to smile like the man inside the photographs, but it just didn't feel right.
She was vaguely familiar, like the countless foggy and warped figures he saw when he closed his eyes and pointed his face towards the lights. She'd come again yesterday, but she never smiled like she did in the photographs. She smiled for Evan in the photographs, but he wasn't Evan. He was just someone in Evan's body holding Evan's girl when he felt empty inside. Sometimes he'd get thoughts, and he'd repeat them out to her to see her face light up briefly. He wanted to cry when he thought and wondered of who he really was.
The poor girl. Yvette, wasn't that her name? He'd almost forgotten it despite all the times she'd patiently told him, as if she was still waiting for Evan to come back.
How old was he again? Twenty? Thirty? Twenty-eight. Twenty-eight for sure. He remembered from the last entry in his notebooks. A picture of him and that girl wearing these silly party hats with cake frosting on their faces. It had been taken by someone with a shaky hand, and the features sort of blurred together along with the background. The date in the top right corner indicated that it had been taken this year. A few short phrases were written underneath- smudged, but he recognized the cramped script underneath as his own.
'Woo! I'm finally 28. Took a picture with Y to celebrate, she brought me the BEST cake ever! Strawberries and cream FOR LIFE!' He frowned slightly at the script. It was so full of energy, so.....Evan-like. He wasn't sure how it made him feel, but he'd quickly closed the notebook and forgotten about it until then.
His hands started to shake, and he watched as the walls around him began to melt. They transitioned from wobbly, pudding-like walls, then started to melt until they were just puddles around his bed. He felt a sharp pain in his legs and flinched automatically. The jerking movement made him lose his balance and tumble off the bed and into the puddles. He'd accidentally pulled the sheets off along with him, and along with those, the notebooks fell. As he sat up, he clutched his head from the constant throbbing sensation in his throat. It felt as if something was rising up very slowly, making him cough. There was a sudden groaning sound along with a few ripples in the puddle. Looking around, he saw that the notebooks were melting, being sucked inside the puddle rapidly. Scrambling to salvage them, he discovered to his dismay that they were all stuck fast to the floor. As they slowly dripped and were absorbed by the white, milky puddle, he felt dozens of pains shooting through his chest and head. It felt like every organ inside him was being sucked out, and his mind filled with the flashing images of the girl. Her hair, her laugh, her aloof and distant nature, all of them flashed by, mixing together, the sounds the sights, the feelings, the air was filled with the roaring sound of a wave crashing down on him. He could vaguely make out the sounds of traffic, the night sounds of the city, beeping of the strange machines attacked to him when he first woke up, everything he'd ever known since he'd woken up. He let out an animalistic scream in response to his entire world filling him up one last time before disappearing and he just couldn't take it. And suddenly.....the noise was gone. The turmoil and barrage of sights and sounds inside his head quieted down and his chest only ached with a want. A need to feel, he wanted to hear himself speak, just to make sure it was all there. Whatever it was inside his throat was swelling up, making little spasms and liquidy noises. He suddenly retched and whatever it was detached itself from his throat with a sort of sucking sound. It fell into his lap just short of his cupped hands and started twitching horribly, little spurts of a warm liquid coming out with every twitch, making the most hideous moans like some sort of pitiful cat.
He gathered the nerve to look down and immediately pushed the object away, scrambling away clumsily.
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Comments: 9
SablexScriptor [2015-03-25 23:40:22 +0000 UTC]
"Pudding-like walls" is the best descriptive term I have ever heard. I don't mean that sarcastically either, I love that term.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
ScorpianAkio In reply to SablexScriptor [2015-03-26 02:28:44 +0000 UTC]
lol inspiration happens for another chapter when you're sitting at your desk eating pudding. It's fucking delicious.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
SablexScriptor In reply to ScorpianAkio [2015-03-26 10:12:38 +0000 UTC]
XD Great source of inspiration.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
ScorpianAkio In reply to SablexScriptor [2015-03-26 23:40:00 +0000 UTC]
lmao, I never take my work seriously.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
SablexScriptor In reply to ScorpianAkio [2015-03-27 00:11:48 +0000 UTC]
Serious is too hard.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
ScorpianAkio In reply to SablexScriptor [2015-03-27 04:51:01 +0000 UTC]
It's harder than the Texas Bar exam.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
ScorpianAkio In reply to SablexScriptor [2015-03-27 23:09:21 +0000 UTC]
It's a hard exam. In Texas.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1