Quoted By: >>66832407 >>66832806
>>66829319
>>66829352
>The night is rough. Visits from nurses and doctors making sure I've not died from who knows what or offed myself. The little sleep I did get was plagued by nightmares. Bloody puddles of students. Eyeless visages, inches away from my face. The relentless smell of wet ozone. I awake in a sweat and notice the dregs of daylight filtering through my window. Sun could burn out for all I care.
>Nick's coming back today. The thought repeats in my head more than any else. I focus on her visit and solely her visit. Anything else and I don't know if I could handle it. She's almost a cushioned barrier between waking life and the nightmare living inside my head. I ponder if I'm just using her as a coping mechanism. I sink into my own thoughts at this notion again. Of course I am.
>I hope she forgets. She decides I'm not worth the time. Figures out what kind of demon I really am and lets me rot in here. I never get what I want.
>A knock on the door and in she comes, baggy clothes, a few cardboard boxes under her arm. I consign myself to slow death by monopoly. At least it would be a death.
>She bounds over
>"Feeling any better?" I consider snarkily addressing her.
>"A bit." I'm instead honest.
>"Good. Here, pick." three boxes are laid out in front of me. Holy shit?
>Catan, Fluxxx and the Dark Souls board game?
>She notices my surprise.
>"Thought I'd bring you Sorry or some shit? Nah, have a little faith." All this effort for me of all people.
>I take a deep breath. "I've played Fluxxx before, we can start there."
>And so we do. I'm not exactly sure how much time has passed, I still dread looking at my phone even if it's purged of all my hangups.
>I feel a nagging need to ask. Why? It gnaws at my insides. I'm garbage. Human refuse and she's Nick. Punk-rock extraordinaire. Why stoop to this? I try to just let the game distract me. I cannot.
cont.
>>66829352
>The night is rough. Visits from nurses and doctors making sure I've not died from who knows what or offed myself. The little sleep I did get was plagued by nightmares. Bloody puddles of students. Eyeless visages, inches away from my face. The relentless smell of wet ozone. I awake in a sweat and notice the dregs of daylight filtering through my window. Sun could burn out for all I care.
>Nick's coming back today. The thought repeats in my head more than any else. I focus on her visit and solely her visit. Anything else and I don't know if I could handle it. She's almost a cushioned barrier between waking life and the nightmare living inside my head. I ponder if I'm just using her as a coping mechanism. I sink into my own thoughts at this notion again. Of course I am.
>I hope she forgets. She decides I'm not worth the time. Figures out what kind of demon I really am and lets me rot in here. I never get what I want.
>A knock on the door and in she comes, baggy clothes, a few cardboard boxes under her arm. I consign myself to slow death by monopoly. At least it would be a death.
>She bounds over
>"Feeling any better?" I consider snarkily addressing her.
>"A bit." I'm instead honest.
>"Good. Here, pick." three boxes are laid out in front of me. Holy shit?
>Catan, Fluxxx and the Dark Souls board game?
>She notices my surprise.
>"Thought I'd bring you Sorry or some shit? Nah, have a little faith." All this effort for me of all people.
>I take a deep breath. "I've played Fluxxx before, we can start there."
>And so we do. I'm not exactly sure how much time has passed, I still dread looking at my phone even if it's purged of all my hangups.
>I feel a nagging need to ask. Why? It gnaws at my insides. I'm garbage. Human refuse and she's Nick. Punk-rock extraordinaire. Why stoop to this? I try to just let the game distract me. I cannot.
cont.