Darien Keegan (thisisntreal) wrote in notionsic, @ 2011-07-04 02:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | darien keegan, john martin, july 2011 |
Who: Darien and John
What: Darien is pissed and takes it out on the first person who approaches him, i.e., John
When: July 5, Tuesday (forward-dated)
Where: BPD
Rating: Medium
It’s been six days since he found out that he was one of the disgusting vermin that called themselves evo. Talking to anyone about it was pointless, and he wasn’t going to start voicing it any time soon. He has tried on numerous attempts to text or call Francis, but what could he do to help Darien? Though, Darien really wasn’t reaching out for help of any kind. He was searching for an outlet, someone to take all of his anger and do nothing in return with it. But something in him prevented him from finishing a sentence or allowing the phone to ring more than once. Since Francis never called back (the caller I.D. would have shown it was him after one single ring) he figured the man didn’t want to speak to him.
Darien kept to himself the last couple of days at work. Never bothering to put up a fight with his bosses, and if someone talked back at him, he’d just stare at them until they cowered away. He didn’t know if Mark told anyone about his secret. No one came up to him to ask him questions or get explanations as to why he never registered himself. He didn’t even want to get on the topic of doing a stupid thing like that. It wasn’t going to happen, nor was using the power either. Darien was going to go on like he would every other day.
But coming into work today… felt a little off. His co-workers never stopped what they were doing to look at him and then hurry away like he was some kind of boogieman. If this wasn’t high school all over again he would have completely ignored it. What annoyed him the most were the soft whispers going around. He wasn’t stupid. He could see from his desk how they looked at him, leaned in toward the person they were next to and say something, and then glance back toward him.
He tried like hell to ignore each and every pair of eyes upon him. They never approached him about it, which was very wise on their part. He’ll give them that. But as time rolled on, his level of calm was slipping further and further away making it harder for him to concentrate on the work he had in front of him. Maybe he was all imagining it, since he seemed to have the power to make things appear that weren’t there. So maybe all of this was his doing. But, if he was doing it… then why do they continue to stare and whisper?
The pencil he was holding snapped with an audible sound that echoed quick around his work station. He pushed himself away from his desk, not caring who he bumped into as he made it for the door that lead out of the lab. Without really noticing, Darien was making little things here and there disappear or reappear as double, recreating a crime scene with just the corpse sprawled out on the floor, and a door that lead to a room that really wasn’t there – it all came from what his memory stored. And it continued until he made it toward a closet big enough to fit about three to four people (depending upon weight).
He needed space. He needed to calm down. He wanted to be normal.