Post by Novalyyn on Jul 12, 2013 2:07:32 GMT -5
((Not that I expect anything, but here's a random thing. Throw something at it if you feel like it.))
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...
Midnight again. Dean stared blankly upward, aware that a white ceiling was somewhere above, though he could not perceive it. He blinked, shivered, and threw off the covers a moment later. Sitting up, he groped for the light switch, trying to stave off the prickling terror rising within him.
Light flooded the room, forcing Dean to wince and blink several times in an attempt to reclaim his sight. Steadily, his room can into view. Clothes and miscellaneous items were strewn about the floor, with a path that led to the vital spots and carpet peeking through here and there. A bottle of sleeping pills lay sideways near the lamp, knocked over in the process of turning on the light. The clock whose soft chimes he'd counted not ticked away serenely, almost as if feigning ignorance to the trouble it caused. Everything was as he'd left it, and there was no sign of anything to have inspired so much fear.
It was the same as every other time.
He sighed and shook his head. The clock's ticking faded into the background, and some moments later, Dean grabbed a t-shirt and some jeans that smelled clean and got dressed. A light jacket, his wallet, a knife in case he needed to defend himself. With a final glance at the clock to confirm that none of the hands had moved beyond midnight, he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it, and headed out to see what was open.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...
Midnight again. Dean stared blankly upward, aware that a white ceiling was somewhere above, though he could not perceive it. He blinked, shivered, and threw off the covers a moment later. Sitting up, he groped for the light switch, trying to stave off the prickling terror rising within him.
Light flooded the room, forcing Dean to wince and blink several times in an attempt to reclaim his sight. Steadily, his room can into view. Clothes and miscellaneous items were strewn about the floor, with a path that led to the vital spots and carpet peeking through here and there. A bottle of sleeping pills lay sideways near the lamp, knocked over in the process of turning on the light. The clock whose soft chimes he'd counted not ticked away serenely, almost as if feigning ignorance to the trouble it caused. Everything was as he'd left it, and there was no sign of anything to have inspired so much fear.
It was the same as every other time.
He sighed and shook his head. The clock's ticking faded into the background, and some moments later, Dean grabbed a t-shirt and some jeans that smelled clean and got dressed. A light jacket, his wallet, a knife in case he needed to defend himself. With a final glance at the clock to confirm that none of the hands had moved beyond midnight, he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it, and headed out to see what was open.