Eridan (Nemo) Ampora (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
allisnotlost) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
showwmelovve2012-11-05 10:22 pm
allisnotlost) wrote in showwmelovve2012-11-05 10:22 pm
Entry tags:
Ahh.
Being a kid means that you get into trouble at times. Maybe you've scraped a knee or you just need help out of a situation you've put yourself in. However, there are those times in which you need someone to help you, but they're nowhere to be found. ... especially when you're stupid enough to go doing stupid shit and end up getting yourself gravely injured.
He knew he had to pace himself. He had no sense of time, or location. He knew himself to be in the halls, but that was as far as he had gotten. Every single movement he had hurt worse than the last one. He was still bleeding and moving, which was just making it just as bad as laying there. He still had some fight in him, he had a bit of willpower to push himself, to keep on going. He was going to get through this, and he'd leave it with a few nicks and scars, but something to laugh about and get scolded and coddled over.
It would be alright.
He spots an open classroom, he knows it to be better than to sit out in the halls. He would be out in the open and it just felt easier on himself to ge t to that room. Call it a hunch, but he wasn't going to stop himself until he made it in. Little did he know that actual classroom belonged to someone close to him, someone that would be shocked to know his own son was in this state.
He just had to wait. Someone had to have noticed him by now. Someone had to be following the blood he left behind as he had dragged himself into the classroom. His breath was easy, but all that he was able to take in right now was the sensation of pain, with an bit of... numbness. He blamed it on the cold, it was chilly on the ground, and he blamed his blurry vision on how bad he had been tearing up previously. Letting his cheek press against the ground, he felt a small sense of relief. Maybe if he had closed his eyes for a few moments, just maybe... he'd wake up and this would all be a sort of dream. Maybe that had been it, it was just an extensive dream that he was experiencing. He had them before, and they all awoke with him in a cold sweat and shaking like crazy.
That's what he told himself.
It was odd when the sensation stopped, when the pain itself stopped. When breath didn't feel necessary. When he realized that he was actually staring at the doorway that he had crawled through. Another sensation ran through him, but more of a realization of sorts-- it was terror, fear. Overall a sense of dread had just washed over him. He couldn't believe what had happened.
Eridan Ampora... was dead.
To make matters worse, he realized exactly who's classroom he had taken all of his strength to lug himself into. His eyes went wide in shock. This wasn't just some teacher's classroom...
This was his father's.
He looked down at his body, afraid to touch, afraid to even see the blood that had collected and pooled as he had been stationary. Eridan barely kept his head down trying to get away from it. He backed up, right into the point to where he halfway passed through the walls, stopping himself when he realized he was actually passing through the walls.
He turned, and decided to hide himself next to the desk. He didn't want to leave his body, but at the same time he was incredibly frightened to the point of wanting to all out cry over the sight of himself, looking so peaceful after death.
At least he thought he did. He had no idea if he was really feeling any of these emotions at all again.
He had no idea how to take any of this, really.
He knew he had to pace himself. He had no sense of time, or location. He knew himself to be in the halls, but that was as far as he had gotten. Every single movement he had hurt worse than the last one. He was still bleeding and moving, which was just making it just as bad as laying there. He still had some fight in him, he had a bit of willpower to push himself, to keep on going. He was going to get through this, and he'd leave it with a few nicks and scars, but something to laugh about and get scolded and coddled over.
It would be alright.
He spots an open classroom, he knows it to be better than to sit out in the halls. He would be out in the open and it just felt easier on himself to ge t to that room. Call it a hunch, but he wasn't going to stop himself until he made it in. Little did he know that actual classroom belonged to someone close to him, someone that would be shocked to know his own son was in this state.
He just had to wait. Someone had to have noticed him by now. Someone had to be following the blood he left behind as he had dragged himself into the classroom. His breath was easy, but all that he was able to take in right now was the sensation of pain, with an bit of... numbness. He blamed it on the cold, it was chilly on the ground, and he blamed his blurry vision on how bad he had been tearing up previously. Letting his cheek press against the ground, he felt a small sense of relief. Maybe if he had closed his eyes for a few moments, just maybe... he'd wake up and this would all be a sort of dream. Maybe that had been it, it was just an extensive dream that he was experiencing. He had them before, and they all awoke with him in a cold sweat and shaking like crazy.
That's what he told himself.
It was odd when the sensation stopped, when the pain itself stopped. When breath didn't feel necessary. When he realized that he was actually staring at the doorway that he had crawled through. Another sensation ran through him, but more of a realization of sorts-- it was terror, fear. Overall a sense of dread had just washed over him. He couldn't believe what had happened.
Eridan Ampora... was dead.
To make matters worse, he realized exactly who's classroom he had taken all of his strength to lug himself into. His eyes went wide in shock. This wasn't just some teacher's classroom...
This was his father's.
He looked down at his body, afraid to touch, afraid to even see the blood that had collected and pooled as he had been stationary. Eridan barely kept his head down trying to get away from it. He backed up, right into the point to where he halfway passed through the walls, stopping himself when he realized he was actually passing through the walls.
He turned, and decided to hide himself next to the desk. He didn't want to leave his body, but at the same time he was incredibly frightened to the point of wanting to all out cry over the sight of himself, looking so peaceful after death.
At least he thought he did. He had no idea if he was really feeling any of these emotions at all again.
He had no idea how to take any of this, really.