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Event Prompt 2 of ??? Every person who happens to have received one of the unaddressed pumpkin baubles begins to feel oddly strange. You find yourself growing more irritable and restless. You’re finding it difficult to sleep and when you do manage to sleep, your dreams are plagued with nightmares. The weird symptoms don’t fade when you power up - you’re just as irritable, if not even more, when you roam the streets as your alter ego. What's gotten into you all of a sudden?
Sleeping had never really been something that was easy for Tristan. Some days were better than others, but there was a persisting restlessness that settled in the space between his bones and creaked whenever he tried to rest. While the long-term effects on his body hadn't been great, sleeping on his wonder had been some of the best sleep he'd had, if only because he had worn his body so thoroughly that he couldn't do anything but sleep.
And yet, there was something particularly plaguing about his attempts to sleep that had left him more bone-weary and exhausted than usual.
Any time he managed to doze off, he was hit with nightmares and flashes of things that sent his heart skidding with adrenaline and had his body shooting upright, hands clutching at his chest and face. The dreams-- nightmares varied from dozing period to dozing period but they almost always circled back to the things he hated remembering the most.
The way the woman's face contorted in pain when he pushed his hand into her chest and wrapped his fingers around her physical soul. The way his sister's (she'd been his sister hadn't she?) mouth fell open into an oh when his hand slipped and the blade pieced her stomach. The way it felt to have Dia take a shard of candy and carve a brand into his chest that he'd never escape and so much more.
Sometimes the memories twisted into something else, an altercation-- a fight where he wasn't quick enough to save the people that mattered to him or scenarios where he found that the person bleeding out in his arms while he was helpless was replaced by someone more important. Danny. Fiona. Charlie. Mary. The faces changed, but the despair didn't.
The lack of sleep and the guilt weighing down his shoulders only served to leave him in an unusually cranky state.
He was snapping at Fiona whenever she checked on him, text messages irritated him and went unanswered in a deliberate manner and not in the careless, spaciness of the past.
Even now as he stood in line as coffee shop, messenger bag slung over his shoulder he found himself cross. Brows were furrowed and his lips pursed, his foot almost tapping with his impatience as he peered around the patron in front of him and the line that lead up to the counter.
amitotic
as we discussed, if you have time for it
