Scott McCall would like to regress to the mean. (alpharising) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-01-21 20:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | scott mccall |
Who: Scott McCall(Narrative)
What: Scott deals with the aftermath of his first Dream
Where: his room in the house he shares with his mom
When: recently
Status: Closed and Complete
Rating: PG-13, for mentions of injury and violence
Scott stood at the bathroom sink, staring into the mirror there, hesitating, hand raised, then sighed and lowered it, and swore in frustration. Then he sighed and felt guilty. Darn it! He hated having a inner conscience that hated swearing! Where did that part of him come from anyway? Oh right. His intense dislike of his father, who swore all the time when he was home.
Scott growled almost instinctively, then shook his head. He was having a hard enough time dealing with life this morning. He didn’t need to think about his deadbeat drunk of a dad. Ugh. Doctor D had been a bigger dad figure to him than his father had been. Most days he didn’t even think about his dad. The man had been gone long enough to let Scott just breathe and forget him, most of the time.
But this morning? This morning sucked. He was glad he didn’t have to go to work until later. He had woken from an amazing dream, or well, a really long and entangled and fucking scary as hell, dream. He had been in woods, and with a friend, then alone, and then he had found a body! And he had been attacked by… god, he didn’t even know, something! Something really, really bad. And he had heard a wolf, several times, and then… he had woken… somewhere else.
And now it all still felt so real, like it had actually happened, yesterday, and not in a dream. And worse, he had woken up with a bandage on, just like the one he had been wearing in his dream, and aching so bad on his side he felt like he might die! He had almost called his mom, before common sense told him he should check this out and maybe sleep some more.
So he had staggered into the bathroom, and now here he was, staring at the mirror, and wondering, really wondering, what the hell he was doing.
Damn.
What was he going to do now?
He had to check though.
He slowly reached down to the bandage, and started to pull it off, realizing as he did so, that the pain had receded to an ache, like he had been hit weeks ago, not bitten last night… er, bitten in a dream last night. He stared as he revealed pink, normal skin. Relief washed over him. Of course nothing was there . He had no idea how the bandage had gotten there, but it had to be some sort of weird fluke. or maybe he had dressed it himself in some sort of dream haze, thinking the dream was real. Or, or… well, he had no idea, really. He’d ask Doctor D about it later.
Yeah. Sure, he would. He wasn’t telling another living soul about this. Not anyone! They would all think he was crazy.
He shook his head and went to work on his homework, trying to shove away the fear and pain that still filled his mind from last night’s dream. Man, I am going nuts!