Disclaimer: Yeah, skip to the point, I don't own this.

Should I be updating my other story right now? Yes. Should I be trying to finish my Bex&Grant one-shot that I plan of finishing right now? Yes. Am I completely terrified of doing something -gasp- new? Hell forkin' spoons yes. Should I not be writing a new story that I might take forever to update on? The answer my fellow people, is Yes.

But as they say when inspiration hits, you don't ask questions or think about consequences, you just write. So that's what I did. I'm trying something new here for once besides all the fluff romance that I love oh so much to write about.

So please, don't kill me if it's not perfect because it's not meant to be. I'm just trying some new shiznits here. Like a pair of jeans, can't tell if its good for you unless you try it on. This is me trying on new jeans. (:

There chains were tinkling in the distance.

The steady drip of water hitting hard floors.

A heavy set of feet echoed throughout the space.

The clang of metal bars.

A bright light, then a piercing scream.

I shot awake, desperately gasping for air. Fear consumed me to the depths of my being. I was shaking everywhere, drowning in my own sweat and fright as pandemonium set in. The dream - more like nightmare - was all too real, all too much to take in.

The demons inside me were resurfacing, constricting my chest with an unbearable weight, making it nearly impossible for me to breathe as my heart beat at an unhealthy pace against my ribs like a savage best begging to be let out of its cage.

If I didn't know any better I would swear up and down that I was having a heart attack.

The screams were all building in my throat, begging, pleading to be let out but they wouldn't come. They were trapped, just like me.

It was all coming back to me in flashes so vivid it was almost like I was back there again. The mere thought of being trapped in that godforsaken place sent waves of panic and desperation through me, chilling me to the centre of my bones.

Beads of sweat ran down my forehead as the coldness seeped into my core making me shiver to no end before rapidly being replaced with a burning fire. Cold and hot, hot and cold. That's what I remembering it feeling like.

The memories were starting to replay once more and no matter how hard I tried they would stop. I shut my eyes tightly, my hands twisting into the wet pieces of hair as I tried thinking about anything that divert the images blurring behind my eyelids.

Think of anything Cammie. Think of Bex or Macey or Liz. Your mom, anyone just think about something, anything, anyone.

Think of that one thing that calms you down no matter what , that sends you to your happy place where you feel at peace.

Think about your Dad.

And just like that all the bad thoughts went away, just like a parent reassuring their child that there were no monsters in the closet. The calm enveloped me, soothing and caressing me like a crying child until my screams would die down and all would be well.

My breaths evened out and my heart rate slowly began to decrease. The thought of my dad brought my peace, but I knew it would only last so long.

Opening my eyes slowly I took in my surrounds; the curtains tied impeccably neat, the bare white walls, the pile of clothes hanging over the chair placed in the corner under the window.

Looking over to my left at the alarm I saw the red blinking numbers glaring at me.

3:24 a.m.

Sighing I slid of the bed, resting my feet on the cold hardwood floor before striding out the room. The entire apartment was covered in a cloak of darkness. The sterile silence screaming volumes at me coated the darkness, draining all warmth, leaving behind a suffocating feeling.

Two of the things I hated most, silence and darkness.

Shoving my feet in the pair of tennis shoes placed at the door and grabbing the jacket on the table I opened my door, prepared to leave but something in the corner caught my eye.

Turning back around, I looked at the picture frame on the entry table. Four girls stood in it, smiles on all their faces as they wrapped their arms around one another.

One stood out the most amongst the group though, her hazel eyes sparkled, shades of blue, green and brown all mingling with each other in a chaotic harmony as she stood embracing her friends. The corners of her lips turned upwards as she smiled at the camera showing a radiant grin making her look as if she was glowing.

She was happy, truly happy.

I turned the frame to the left, fixing it to how it was supposed to be placed, before looking once more at the picture. The face staring back at me had the same exact features of me with the same exact chaotic eyes.

But looking at that picture, I couldn't tell you who that girl was in the frame, what she was like, because even though she was me, she wasn't me. The similarities were there but inside, we were two completely different people.

And with that last thought I walked outside closing the door behind me gently.

The diner - named 'Diner', clever I known right - was a retro-styled little placed, with worn black and white tiles that had been polished over too many times and red vinyl booths that had seen better years. There was an unused juke box sitting in the corner but I couldn't tell you if it worked or not. No one used it and it seemed to be staying that way.

You could tell it was a placed that was 'hopping' back in the day but now its main participants were truck drivers passing through to get some grub before heading back out on the road, the crazies of the night, and the one lone insomniac also known as me.

This was my one place of solace these days. The one place where I could be alone without actually being alone. All the customers sat in their respective places, truck drivers in the front, crazies at the bar and I sat in a booth in the corner farthest away from everyone.

The little bells chimed as I walked in and went straight to my reserved spot. The moment I sat down, the usual waitress, a perky blonde named DeeDee walked up to me to take my order.

"Hi Cammie, the usual?" DeeDee asked flashing me a bright, white smile. Every time I came here and saw her it was like she got even cuter. Not in that way, but in the general she's so cute I just want to eat her up kind of way. With her doe like blue eyes, curly blonde hair and adorned in accessories in pink at all times, she radiated innocence, a refreshing trait to see in a person.

Tonight though, her normal long, blonde hair that she kept in place with a pink scrunchy had been replaced with a stylish short bob topped off with a cute pink hello-kitty headband.

In all my years, I can honestly say that this girl is the only grown woman I've seen who can pull off wearing a hello-kitty headband. It's just not fair.

"Thanks DeeDee," I replied forcing a small smile back to her. She cocked her head to the side, looking at me for a second longer than normal then nodded and turned off walking away.

I sighed, grabbing the complimentary newspaper that was placed next to me on the booth. I opened the papers, absentmindedly reading the articles without actually reading them.

I was halfway through an article about the election of the new mayor when I felt a pair of eyes staring at me. Precariously lowering my papers I peered carefully over them and was met with intense, dark eyes staring right back at mine.

Frowning I lifted back up my newspaper ignoring the burning gaze from the unknown newbie. I'd never seen him before and he did not resemble in a truck driver in any way possible.

Worry began to settle in as I pondered over the new addition to our little diner where there was never any unknown guests here. Was he an operative from the other side of the playing field sent to track me? Or maybe he was part of the rather annoyed Frenchies who I may or may not had mistaken for a group of undercover rouge operatives sent to assassinate the US Ambassador of France. I knew they were not happy people after I blew up their art studio but it was purely by accident. I swear.

I tried to rationalize with myself as my imagination began to drift away from reality, giving the man pseudo identities when he may have just been a normal civilian was not the spy thing to do. Jumping to conclusions without knowing the beginning of the story will only get you into trouble. And that's trouble with a B for big and bad.

"Here you go Cammie," said DeeDee snapping me out of my musings. "One coffee, two sugars," she recited as she placed a steaming mug in front of me. The strong sent of caffeine wafted up through my nose, effectively waking me up fully.

"Thanks Dee."

I stirred the coffee again, just a precaution, the metal spoon clanking against the sides of the mug. "Rough night?" I heard DeeDee ask from my left where she had remained standing. She had been so quiet I didn't even recognize she was gone.

This was bad, I was getting sloppy.

Pushing that thought I looked at her questioning face. My heart melted a bit at the sight. Even though I hardly knew her, she always cared enough to ask. Not just out of curiosity though I could tell, but just because she was generally compassionate enough to wonder about someone's well being.

Sighing I gave her a tired smile. "Story of my life." DeeDee grinned back at me with an understanding grin, even though she really didn't know. "Don't bother with the cheque, it's on the house," she winked before walking away.

Such a nice girl.

But then I felt the eyes again, watching me from the opposite side of the room. Eventually I got fed up with trying not to look so I did what any normal person would do, because goddamit he had to be a normal person. I looked at him.

And the moment I did, his lips curled into an amused smirk, almost as if he knew I couldn't resist the temptation. Dark locks of hair fell haphazardly onto his face, partially shielding a pair of dark eyes. The dim lighting in the diner caused shadows to flicker over his strong features, giving him an heir of mystery.

Now usually when someone you don't known is staring blatantly at you, it's completely normal to get weirded out and call them a pervert. But something about this one man was different. His eyes held a familiar emotion but I couldn't place my finger on what exactly it was.

It was as if there was a storm brewing in those dark eyes of his, a whirlwind of emotions mixing and clashing with one another. They say the eyes are the windows to your soul, and whoever the hell said that was spot on with that declaration.

Because the moment he smirked at me and raised his cup, I knew that he was like me; someone with a past, that they can't get away from no matter how hard they tried.

So I took refuge in that, knowing that even if I never saw this man again, I would at least feel a sense of belonging from knowing that I wasn't the only one out there haunted by their past, because knowing that there's others like you out there and seeing someone like you are two completely different things.

So I returned the gesture, just barely raising my cup with a small smile before taking a sip and looked away out the window. And I found for once, I felt something other than all the pent emotions I lived with everyday. I felt thankful for this stranger because from one look and a small smirk, I at least knew that there was someone out there who understood my story, even without the unnecessary details.

Mraghh! - from the debut album Sounds of Frustration.

I am attempting angst, dear lord please let me get better in this because this was just ..

Mehhh - from the second album This Sucks cookie dough.

Leave meh some lovin' because I could use some right bout now (: