Oliver (number_ix) wrote in halcyon_halls, @ 2008-01-17 04:20:00 |
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Current music: | Joni Mitchell - Free Man in Paris |
Week Two: Tuesday (narrative)
It had been 3:30 AM when he woke, sweat and possibly worse sticking the sheets to his body. When these things happened in his sleep, he never knew what he was going to get. Sometimes you got lucky and you woke up to enjoy the sticky feeling of sweat and your own satiated excitement. Sometimes you didn't get so lucky, like tonight. He'd dragged himself against his better judgement out of bed. His head pounding and his body aching, just to get enough time in the shower to clean himself for a painful morning on the couch. If he was lucky, he could still make class, although he was probably fooling himself. Going steady for a month and a half was something he knew was just pure chance. This had been a long time coming.
His safety shower nozzle had a motion-detector safety measure, ensuring his head was above its low set every fifteen seconds or it would shut off. The pressure was so low to ensure there wasn't enough water in the tub to drown him if he passed out. And for good reason. The tiled wall was sort of moving in front of his eyes. Ezra fought, thinking about class schedules and anything banal he could, but the images fought. Like a wound you couldn't stop touching, the same image of a rainbow concentric circle suncatcher came to his mind. Oh no no no no no
With growing dread, he stood, a bar of Irish Spring clutched in his left hand, now held against his ear. Ezra was frozen to the spot. Those circles. Those circles! They flung out of the image of them hanging in his aunt's garden window. He'd just seen it once, back in the days he could hardly remember, possibly ten. His mind went blank and those circles started turning to pure color and spinning. Now twisting into different Ovals and turning within and outside one another and stretching. Oh lord. Oh no. His head was splitting down the middle and they were arching towards him. He opened his eyes and could see them in the dull glare of his bathroom's light, shooting out of the water, making a roaring sound in his ears, entering his head. He was losing it, could feel his thoughts slowing. In a moment some called the alpha state, Ezra knew he existed but did not have solid thought, only that horrible sense of lifelessness as he felt a rope of fate attach to his brain and pull him where it would.
He was too weak to either resist or go. Instead Ezra blanked out like a burnt bulb. A quick flash of pain on his face and then darkness. Thank the gods for safety, or he would have possibly been dead instead of waking up five hours later, naked, shivering, and barely strong enough to pull himself from the tub and wrap himself in a couple of towels before losing himself again to those spinning discs in his brain. There was a trigger inside his brain, some arcane machine that just would not be silenced. Least of all by Ezra himself.