Nasir (noturlittleman) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-02-22 23:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, !trigger warning, nasir, vanessa cleveland |
Who: Nasir and OPEN
What: Jabberjays
When: 2/17, afternoon
Where: Streets near Nasir's apartment
Status: Incomplete
Rating: Low but mentions trauma associated with sexual assault
Now that the death fog had cleared, the blood rain had stopped, and the world seemed to be getting back to normal, Nasir figured that it was probably safe to leave the house again. Just in time, too - he was pretty sure if he didn’t get to move around and get this excess energy out, he was going to lose it. Or his neighbors were going to kill him, since he’d taken to jogging up and down the hallways when he couldn’t sleep and apparently someone repeatedly running by your door at three in the morning was ‘disruptive’ and ‘irritating’ and ‘seriously kid if you don’t knock it the fuck off so help me god’. So, hair tied back, sweat pants on, and earphones in, he was ready to go. Picking a random direction, he set off.
It was several minutes before something leaked in through the music, a soft voice - just barely audible but definitely there. Nasir stopped and paused the song, but it didn’t pipe back up until he started jogging again.
”Hey there, little brother.”
Directly behind him, just to his left, like his brother had always done to irritate him. He could almost feel the too-light touch against his shoulder, a taunt that said ‘I’m not touching you so you can’t go crying to Mom’. Nasir whipped around, an angry admonishment on his lips, to find only an empty street.
”Too slow, Nasir. Try again.”
Behind him again, and Nasir let out a frustrated noise. “Stop it,” he hissed, aware that he probably looked crazy, talking to ghosts. Thankfully there was still no one around. That he could see, anyway. “Whoever you are, just stop it.”
”Over here!” And a laugh, bright and happy and so alive, and suddenly Nasir was ten years old and chasing after his older brother, getting themselves into trouble but having fun. The voice was moving, and even though Nasir knew that there was no way that it was his brother, no way that he was here, he’d been dead for years and he knew that but still, he couldn’t do anything but follow helplessly.
”This way, baby,” his mother called, around a corner and just out of sight, followed by his father calling his name. She began to sing a lullaby, one that she’d sang him to sleep with as a child and that made his heart ache so sharply it made him gasp. He had to pause to catch his breath and wipe away the sweat stinging his eyes (it might have been tears). Every time he felt like he was getting closer, like he would round a final corner and find them huddled together and smiling, the voices changed direction, and he had to spin around and chase after them again. He had no idea where he was, too turned around and distracted to even notice that fact, until he finally found himself in an alley, facing a concrete wall. The voices had fallen silent, no more giggles or whispers or soft strains of songs. His brow furrowed in frustration and his chin wobbled as he scrubbed at his face, feeling small and helpless and just so full of sorrow it felt like it was going to swallow him whole. He buried his face in his hands and tried to get himself under control so he could figure out how to get home without having to deal with questions.He couldn’t take kindness right now - he had a hard time with it to start, unsure how to respond, but right now it might just break him apart and he’d been doing so well lately that he didn’t need that. He was almost there, tears reduced to small hiccups and breathy hitching sighs, when another voice, all too familiar and yet completely unexpected, sent ice through his veins as it whispered in his ear.
”Tiberius.”
For a moment he was frozen, stomach churning so violently he was distantly worried that he’d be ill, but then his body kicked into action again. He screamed, and kept screaming; even as he turned to find no one behind him; even as he backed against a wall, shoving himself into the hard concrete, fingers scrabbling against it to try and ground himself, knees buckling and scraping his shoulders against the wall as he collapsed; he kept screaming. He was finally choked off when the tears came, violent sobs that threatened to shake him apart, and all he could do against them was curl up tight and try to hold himself together.