Matt Murdock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
manwithoutfear) wrote2013-05-16 03:36 pm
manwithoutfear) wrote2013-05-16 03:36 pm
Entry tags:
[Home Plot] Sticks and Stones, Pt. IV
In a word, I wake up violently.
I can't pull in enough air, can't breathe, each inhale a gasp. My throat feels like sandpaper when I dare to swallow. Limbs tangled in my sheets, I roll from the bed onto the ground with a dull thud -- only to realize everything's dulled. My ears are stuffed with cotton and my hands are bone dry, the world around me dark and flat.
It was all a dream. The Hand, Bullseye, Foggy... All of it. It never happened. We never even left the room. My God, the baby-- Is Ellen even--?
The world tilts. I spit out a sound that's part sob, part yell, and punch the floor, once, with everything I'm worth.
It's not enough.
I can't pull in enough air, can't breathe, each inhale a gasp. My throat feels like sandpaper when I dare to swallow. Limbs tangled in my sheets, I roll from the bed onto the ground with a dull thud -- only to realize everything's dulled. My ears are stuffed with cotton and my hands are bone dry, the world around me dark and flat.
It was all a dream. The Hand, Bullseye, Foggy... All of it. It never happened. We never even left the room. My God, the baby-- Is Ellen even--?
The world tilts. I spit out a sound that's part sob, part yell, and punch the floor, once, with everything I'm worth.
It's not enough.