Post by Steven Rosett on Feb 11, 2015 22:01:31 GMT -5
Steven awoke with a start. Jerking up in his bed into a sitting position, shocked to find that there was no pain. Looking down at himself, he was dressed which was odd. Steven didn't not dress clothed normally. However right now that didn't matter. The nightmare he had, had felt so real. Steven would get out of his bed, and head towards the bathroom. He would deal with his business, half asleep before heading for the shower. Hoping that the water would help push the memories of the bad dream away. However as Steven pulled off his shirt, out of the corner of his eye he saw something in the mirror that made him turn to look in more detail.
Along his left hand side, a large scar, a dark red line in complete contrast to his pale skin lay there. Steven took a few steps towards the mirror, and stared at the scar. There were over smaller scars, that he hadn't noticed before but he could have easily got them in over fights and not realized. The large scar however - Memory flooded back, to the fight with the boy at school. The one he had tried to strangle to death and who had stabbed him in the side with a broken locker door. Steven cringed, and then more memories came.
"No...No it can be that was a dream."
Steven would try to tell himself, but the scar was just to obvious a fact to ignore, he should have died or at least been in hospital. There was no way after a fight like that he should have been waking up in his own bed. Unless someone else had put him there.
"NOOOO"
Steven right arm shot out, as he screamed. His fist slamming into the mirror and shattering it. Silvered glass flying around, one piece slashing across his hand in flight. Steven would fall to his knees, and gently sob at the realisation that the dream was not a dream.
"I couldn't save them."
Steven would cried at himself. The faces of the two head see die in his 'dream' haunting him. Leon and Ashley. The image of the man being impaled through the chest, the visage of the pretty lifeless girl laying in his arms. Unable to save her. He couldn't save them, and who would ever know. Steven would dry his eyes, by dragging his forearm across his face and force himself to stand. He planned to call the police before something stopped him.
Who would believe him, the things he had seen. No one would him if he told them. Except one person, there was one other person who knew what happened. If they hadn't died after he had fallen. Austin. Steven couldn't do it though, the idea of tracking down the man for help was not one he was willing to take in his pride. Even though the pair had worked together well, it had been due to no choice. Steven had the choice now and he would not take it.
Looking down at himself once more Steven would notice something else that was off about his body, next to the white rose tattoo on his inner forearm, was more. More then there had once been. Red ink, another tattoo ruined by the actions of another. The simple word, written in letters that looked like dripping blood.
Metuo
The dream was real, there was no way he could deny that in the face of the evidence left upon his own body. Steven would in the end forgo the shower. Dress once more, and go to some effort picking up the broken mirror. Then coolly detached, he forced his heart not to feel the pain of his failure so deep. Because he would set this right.
Steven would head out into the main room of his apartment, and sit at his computer. A quick Google search turned up the meaning of the word now on his arm. 'Fear' how unsurprising. Well Steven would not show fear. He would show meticulous planning, and then when he faced that mask man with the strength to face him. Steven would turn his anger to a razor's edge and stab him through the heart.
However that was not what need to be done first, another Google search would find a official police website. The website that most recent missing person report allowed by the family to be published would be accessible by anyone who wish to see them. Steven would look at face after face. Looking for a photo of the dead, a photo of living eyes while Steven could only see lifeless ones looking down upon him.
Along his left hand side, a large scar, a dark red line in complete contrast to his pale skin lay there. Steven took a few steps towards the mirror, and stared at the scar. There were over smaller scars, that he hadn't noticed before but he could have easily got them in over fights and not realized. The large scar however - Memory flooded back, to the fight with the boy at school. The one he had tried to strangle to death and who had stabbed him in the side with a broken locker door. Steven cringed, and then more memories came.
"No...No it can be that was a dream."
Steven would try to tell himself, but the scar was just to obvious a fact to ignore, he should have died or at least been in hospital. There was no way after a fight like that he should have been waking up in his own bed. Unless someone else had put him there.
"NOOOO"
Steven right arm shot out, as he screamed. His fist slamming into the mirror and shattering it. Silvered glass flying around, one piece slashing across his hand in flight. Steven would fall to his knees, and gently sob at the realisation that the dream was not a dream.
"I couldn't save them."
Steven would cried at himself. The faces of the two head see die in his 'dream' haunting him. Leon and Ashley. The image of the man being impaled through the chest, the visage of the pretty lifeless girl laying in his arms. Unable to save her. He couldn't save them, and who would ever know. Steven would dry his eyes, by dragging his forearm across his face and force himself to stand. He planned to call the police before something stopped him.
Who would believe him, the things he had seen. No one would him if he told them. Except one person, there was one other person who knew what happened. If they hadn't died after he had fallen. Austin. Steven couldn't do it though, the idea of tracking down the man for help was not one he was willing to take in his pride. Even though the pair had worked together well, it had been due to no choice. Steven had the choice now and he would not take it.
Looking down at himself once more Steven would notice something else that was off about his body, next to the white rose tattoo on his inner forearm, was more. More then there had once been. Red ink, another tattoo ruined by the actions of another. The simple word, written in letters that looked like dripping blood.
Metuo
The dream was real, there was no way he could deny that in the face of the evidence left upon his own body. Steven would in the end forgo the shower. Dress once more, and go to some effort picking up the broken mirror. Then coolly detached, he forced his heart not to feel the pain of his failure so deep. Because he would set this right.
Steven would head out into the main room of his apartment, and sit at his computer. A quick Google search turned up the meaning of the word now on his arm. 'Fear' how unsurprising. Well Steven would not show fear. He would show meticulous planning, and then when he faced that mask man with the strength to face him. Steven would turn his anger to a razor's edge and stab him through the heart.
However that was not what need to be done first, another Google search would find a official police website. The website that most recent missing person report allowed by the family to be published would be accessible by anyone who wish to see them. Steven would look at face after face. Looking for a photo of the dead, a photo of living eyes while Steven could only see lifeless ones looking down upon him.