AliveOnceAgain
My Lil Demon
Go ahead and take us away!
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Realistic or Modern Hidden Behind Many Masks
- Thread starter AliveOnceAgain
- Start date
Nikkinsanity
New Member
((Here we go! Let me know if you want me to change anything. I just went with third person because that is what I usually write in, but I can change it if you want!))
Emerson had awoken – but not like most people awake. He had come to in the middle of his kitchen, his legs unsteady and his body shaking. His feet felt almost as if he were plastered into it – unable to move or walk. He looked around the empty household as his neck and forehead rang with sweat – his mind confused. He couldn’t remember the details of anything and he certainly didn’t know how long he had just been standing here. Or why he had been so sweaty for that matter. His body shook slightly as he picked up his leg and began to move – began to pace around the house. His tired eyes had landed on the illuminated clock on the kitchen stove that was shining a bright green in the already dark house. That was whenever he saw that it had only been early morning and the sun was starting to rise. He scrubbed his trembling hands over his face as he looked around the house again. He looked for a trigger, he looked for something – anything to help him remember what exactly he had been doing last night or how he got here. What if he did something truly horrible and just didn’t remember it? The voices were at a standstill – for now anyways.
Sleep pushed at every part of his body and he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he slept. All he knew was that anytime he tried to sleep the man in black would make an appearance or the voices would argue with one another. Sleep avoided him like his sanity and didn’t come around very often – but he knew that he needed to get moving. Part of him hoped that his legs would collapse and he would just pass out somewhere. It didn’t even have to be a bed in his mind. Just as long as he got some sort of sleep – some sort of anything – he couldn’t complain. Right now though, he would continue to move around the house in a hazy and uncertain state. He would continue to wonder what he was doing in the late hours of the night and when exactly he stopped moving around the house and how long he had been standing there in his kitchen – by himself and in silence. He moved through the empty kitchen, his feet cold against the tile, and he pulled open the cabinet that was above the fridge.
And his eyes landed on a whole bunch of emptiness – nothing.
He cursed out to himself and he knew that grocery shopping needed to be added to the list of things to do. Ontop of sleeping, taking his medications, and trying to stay out of everyones way. He sighed to himself as he grabbed a sweatshirt, slipped on some shoes and began to make his way out the door. The air was cold but the kids in the neighborhood were on the bus and already gone. That way he would avoid parents tugging their kids closer and trying to pretend like he simply didn’t exist. He climbed his way into the car and began to drive to the supermarket that wasn’t far from his house – but far enough away that he could move through the aisles without too much of a commotion and without too many people avoiding his stares and whispering about him to the clerks. He had reached the store in a mere minutes and he began to move through the aisles and before he knew it, he heard whispering and talking just behind his ear. The person that had been speaking had been far too close to his head.
That was whenever he whipped his neck around so hard that he felt a pull in all the muscles that resided there and he cringed slightly, grabbing at the muscles that were there and that was whenever he saw an empty aisle behind him. He knew what that meant.
The voices didn’t argue, they didn’t yell at one another, he couldn’t really make out much of what was happening. He sucked in a long breath as he pulled his hood over his head – as if he thought that that was what would protect him from the voices that were speaking to him. He felt them all push and pull at him and he groaned at rubbed at his head as he pushed the cart around the aisles. The voices were distracting him to a point that he couldn’t think clearly – he couldn’t think about the things that he needed. He couldn’t think about what he needed to survive. He just wanted them to stop talking to him long enough that he could get what he needed, pay for the food, and keep moving with his day. He didn’t understand why they chose moments like this to flare up – but here they were and they showed no signs of leaving any time soon.
He rounded the corner with his cart, sighing to himself. Distracted. Distracted by the voices, distracted by the thoughts plaguing his head, distracted by the headache of withdrawal, lack of sleep. He groaned as he whipped around the corner and that was whenever the cart hit the hip of a woman that he had truly not seen standing at the end of aisle three – someone he recognized but couldn’t quite put a face to a name – or a name to a face for that matter.
“I-I-“ he began to stutter, trying to get moving. Embarrassed. People were probably looking now. “I’m sorry.” He said lowly as he felt his face get hot with embarrassment.
Emerson had awoken – but not like most people awake. He had come to in the middle of his kitchen, his legs unsteady and his body shaking. His feet felt almost as if he were plastered into it – unable to move or walk. He looked around the empty household as his neck and forehead rang with sweat – his mind confused. He couldn’t remember the details of anything and he certainly didn’t know how long he had just been standing here. Or why he had been so sweaty for that matter. His body shook slightly as he picked up his leg and began to move – began to pace around the house. His tired eyes had landed on the illuminated clock on the kitchen stove that was shining a bright green in the already dark house. That was whenever he saw that it had only been early morning and the sun was starting to rise. He scrubbed his trembling hands over his face as he looked around the house again. He looked for a trigger, he looked for something – anything to help him remember what exactly he had been doing last night or how he got here. What if he did something truly horrible and just didn’t remember it? The voices were at a standstill – for now anyways.
Sleep pushed at every part of his body and he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he slept. All he knew was that anytime he tried to sleep the man in black would make an appearance or the voices would argue with one another. Sleep avoided him like his sanity and didn’t come around very often – but he knew that he needed to get moving. Part of him hoped that his legs would collapse and he would just pass out somewhere. It didn’t even have to be a bed in his mind. Just as long as he got some sort of sleep – some sort of anything – he couldn’t complain. Right now though, he would continue to move around the house in a hazy and uncertain state. He would continue to wonder what he was doing in the late hours of the night and when exactly he stopped moving around the house and how long he had been standing there in his kitchen – by himself and in silence. He moved through the empty kitchen, his feet cold against the tile, and he pulled open the cabinet that was above the fridge.
And his eyes landed on a whole bunch of emptiness – nothing.
He cursed out to himself and he knew that grocery shopping needed to be added to the list of things to do. Ontop of sleeping, taking his medications, and trying to stay out of everyones way. He sighed to himself as he grabbed a sweatshirt, slipped on some shoes and began to make his way out the door. The air was cold but the kids in the neighborhood were on the bus and already gone. That way he would avoid parents tugging their kids closer and trying to pretend like he simply didn’t exist. He climbed his way into the car and began to drive to the supermarket that wasn’t far from his house – but far enough away that he could move through the aisles without too much of a commotion and without too many people avoiding his stares and whispering about him to the clerks. He had reached the store in a mere minutes and he began to move through the aisles and before he knew it, he heard whispering and talking just behind his ear. The person that had been speaking had been far too close to his head.
That was whenever he whipped his neck around so hard that he felt a pull in all the muscles that resided there and he cringed slightly, grabbing at the muscles that were there and that was whenever he saw an empty aisle behind him. He knew what that meant.
The voices didn’t argue, they didn’t yell at one another, he couldn’t really make out much of what was happening. He sucked in a long breath as he pulled his hood over his head – as if he thought that that was what would protect him from the voices that were speaking to him. He felt them all push and pull at him and he groaned at rubbed at his head as he pushed the cart around the aisles. The voices were distracting him to a point that he couldn’t think clearly – he couldn’t think about the things that he needed. He couldn’t think about what he needed to survive. He just wanted them to stop talking to him long enough that he could get what he needed, pay for the food, and keep moving with his day. He didn’t understand why they chose moments like this to flare up – but here they were and they showed no signs of leaving any time soon.
He rounded the corner with his cart, sighing to himself. Distracted. Distracted by the voices, distracted by the thoughts plaguing his head, distracted by the headache of withdrawal, lack of sleep. He groaned as he whipped around the corner and that was whenever the cart hit the hip of a woman that he had truly not seen standing at the end of aisle three – someone he recognized but couldn’t quite put a face to a name – or a name to a face for that matter.
“I-I-“ he began to stutter, trying to get moving. Embarrassed. People were probably looking now. “I’m sorry.” He said lowly as he felt his face get hot with embarrassment.
