Bad Dreams, Hurting Hands, Showers and being late again
so because i write at the most random times possible i have pretty crazy authors notes and my mood is influencing my writing a lot. okay i don't type up the A/Ns, because i don't want to scare people, but I'm too lazy to change the plot again so please bear with me
I feel like my writing in this one is REALLY REALLY suckish but I'm tired of changing it:/ So please let me know what you think and if my writing is going down hill (because i feel like it is-.-)
so just to warn you: this story might- fuck that, WILL contain dangerously random chapters, a really bad plot (i don't have one, i just write), crazy mood swings and other things that might annoy you
i promise the next one is more serious;)
so now to the story
/edited one thig because it was just too stupid.../
Chapter 4: just a typical day in my life
-the next morning-
I jolted up from the couch with a sharp gasp, scared shitless, panting and choking on air. After I finally semi-managed to regain the ability to breath I dared to look around the dark room a bit, cautiously taking in my surroundings, checking every corner for that goddamn killer zombie that was about to eat me just a minute ago. I knew I was being immature but it seemed so real! My dreams always had this kind of affect on me and it didn't help either that most of my dreams resembled a low budget, gory horror flick made by some fucked up crackhead with a hangover! I shook my head violently a few times to rid myself of these thoughts. While gathering my mind and trying to completely steady my still slightly ragged breath I waited until I was calm enough to stand up. Carefully I lifted my sticky head a bit from the couch...ugh I needed to shower really badly! I wiped away a few droplets of icy sweat which still lingered on my skin from my night terror earlier. Cursing myself a few times I dragged my heavy body up the stairs to the bathroom. Pretty much staggering through the door I reached behind me to slam it shut but failed to hit it. Instead my hand made a painful impact with the white tiles covering the walls. 'Fuck' was all I managed to get though my tightly gritted teeth as I winced at the immense pain in my throbbing right hand. I wobbled over to the sink, my other hand firmly clutching my hurting right, to try and ease the pain a bit by letting cold water run over it.
I was just about to dry my hands off. Looking up to reach for the towels lying in the cabinet above the sink I caught a glimpse of me in the mirror. Ugh I looked like shit. Weary eyes with dark circles under them, pale skin, sticky hair and raw chapped up lips...in short: disgusting. These nightmares were really wearing me out and they became more frequent over the last few weeks, gradually becoming more terrifying. I guess I couldn't live on my own for a long time and I often wonder if I should tell someone, but I didn't. I know for a fact they'd laugh at me...I mean how can a grown man possibly be afraid of huge zombies trying to eat you? But it wasn't the scene of which I was scared. It was the feelings that came with it. I felt trapped with no chance to escape; nauseous; smothered; claustrophobic. It was just plain horrifying. God even if it would've been mickey mouse itself chasing me I would've been scared!
And my distress was showing in my face...
But I didn't have the time for that now. I needed to get ready and leave in less than an hour and I still needed to shower!
I quickly stormed out of the room, gripping the corners of the door for support and to try to stop myself from tripping and falling. Finally reaching the mess once known as my and my wife's bedroom I reached down to grab some off all the random clothes, which were carelessly scattered across the floor. (Tends to happen when I live alone) You could barely see the floor because of all the clothes lying there in huge heaps, towering over most of the other stuff (a plate, full ash tray, several CDs...ugh why am I describing my mess?) and I was glad I chose something not too smelly with the first try. Having picked out today's outfit I turned on my heel, making a swift exit and hurrying back into the bath to take the quickest shower ever. And that means something...
Stepping out of the comforting heat I sucked in a deep breath, moist air filling my nicotine intoxicated lungs. I let myself relax a little longer, calming my mind and pretending I was far away from all this, before finally throwing on what I randomly picked out earlier. Surprisingly it looked decent. Tilting my head to the right I examined the details of my face and even though I knew better than that I couldn't help but feel as though something was missing. Sighing I grabbed a comb and hastily brushed the tangled red thing called my hair. Better! But still...I decided to ignore it, shrugging off the feeling I got every time I looked into a mirror; nowadays that is. I knew perfectly well what I was missing: my eyeliner. But Lin-z just randomly decided she didn't like the look of it, said it made me look 'too feminine', so I being the good husband I was, stopped wearing it altogether. No big deal. But I still missed it. It gave my eyes that special look and now they were just green.
Glancing at my watch I realised just how much time I spent silently mourning the loss of my eyeliner. I had to be at the hospital in twenty fucking minutes and it was a twenty minutes drive! Oh fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck...
I was really going nuts, bit by bit! But at least I had something to look forward today.
ugh yeah you see what I was talking about earlier...I don't even know why I added the eyeliner bit...it just comes to me and i write it down. Again, bear with me and R&R :)
I'll try to update sooner, xoxo katie