|Mark Cohen is addicted to unhealthy relationships (mydocumentary) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2011-06-02 22:54:00
|Entry tags:||mark cohen, roger davis|
Who: Mark and Roger (and some NPCed not so nice guys)
What: The boys get a freaky sense of deja vu
When: Friday morning
Where: An alley in the middle of Lawrence
Rating: With their mouths? Probably an R
Mark was not in the best of moods to begin with.
One minute he was at Angel's funeral, yelling at Roger, trying to help Mimi, trying to ignore Benny...a usual day in his life. Camera in hand, he filmed the whole thing, despite Roger's accusations that he tended to hide behind the piece of equipment.
The next minute, he was...well, he was definitely not in New York City. The landscape around him had changed drastically. The cemetery was gone, his friends were gone, and everything looked...terrifying. Only because it wasn't where he'd just been.
Mark's stomach flipped, his knees went weak, and the early stages of panic began to set in. He gripped his camera tightly in his hand, wishing like hell it could show him what had just happened. And he might have played the tape back a dozen times if it weren't for the guys who walked up to him.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Looks scared. You scared?"
Not again. What? Did he have a sign on him that said, 'Hey, I can be beat up!' Better to ignore them. Especially since he didn't even have a clue who they were. He didn't even know what neighborhood they were in. One had a southern drawl, the other had no distinct accent at all. No help there.
"You stupid or something? I'm talking to you."
Ignoring them wasn't going to work. So Mark did the only thing he could think. He turned and started to walk away. He had no idea where to go or where he was headed, but he knew staying there wasn't going to be in his best interest.
"That's cute," the heavier set of the two called out, "you think you can just walk away. No manners. Get your ass back here."
Before Mark could reply, he felt a hand pushing him from behind. He stumbled, only catching himself by reaching for the wall of the building closest to him. "Seriously, guys, chill, ok? Let me go and we won't have any problems." All he could think was he hoped he sounded more brave than he actually was.
But the shorter man snickered. "I don't think so." Mark did all he could not to flinch, but it was hard when he was suddenly being used as a human game of pong. Despite himself, he clutched the camera close. For the moment, it was the only thing familiar to him.