Title: Disturbia
Rating/Warnings: M for various disturbing depictions (involving blood and such), sexual situations, and possible drug use.
Inspiration: The Cab – Disturbia
Based on several different songs throughout the story, namely Disturbia – The Cab, and Jessica Kill – Sum 41. Whether or not this is a Cam may be up for you to decide. This story is likely to take you for a little ride, like one of those mouse trap roller coasters, that takes you through all these crazy unforeseen twists that make you feel like you'll fly right off. ;]
Oh, and I'm quite positive I can add the title based on a true story, although it's based on several true stories mashed together...one of them mine.
If this story seems oddly familiar...this is a re-written version of the original Disturbia I submitted sometime last year. Well, 'nough said. Enjoy.
x -
Creeeeak...groancreakmoan...creeeeak...groancreakmoan...
All was dark around me; the only source of light a bright yellow sun high above my head, leaving me sweating and dry. A panic of claustrophobia set in my stomach somewhere, forcing my blood through constricting veins, choking me, my heart racing faster and faster, feeling nothing but trapped, although I could see this surrounding darkness for what was probably miles. I coughed a dry, deathly cough, seeming to cough up my heart and lungs and soul as I choked on my own being, my entire body wracked with tremors as I collapsed, the dry dirt beneath me less than cushioning my fall. Taking in a deep, wheezing breath, my lungs are filled with nothing but dust, and I choke again, my insides all at once contracting as I vomit weakly on the blank earth in front of me, making an animal sound quite like the unidentified ones around me...
Creeeeak...groancreakmoan...creeeeak...groancreakmoan...
x -
I wake with a start, lurching into a sitting position, my breath struggling to catch up with my erratic heartbeat. Eyes darting around the blackness surrounding me, the dark quickly gains the slightly ambiguous form of my room. Thank God, I think, Just a dream. I run a trembling hand through my tousled, sweat-soaked hair, taking several deep, shuddering breaths. Just...another...dream. I hear the pounding of hurried footsteps up the stairs near my room, realizing I'd most likely screamed out in my sleep...again. My racing heart slowly started coming to a normal pulse again, and I felt myself begin to relax with the thought of imminent rescue from my own mind. Just then, my bedroom door slammed open, causing me to jolt, and my heart to momentarily spike in percussion, before seeing my brother Spencer as the night rescuer for the fourth time this week. He walked across my area rug to my bedside, where he took a seat at the end, causing the springs to creak and groan. I cringe at the all too familiar noise.
"You okay, kiddo?" he inquires as always, and I nod, swallowing my anxiety with a dry throat.
"Yeah. It was just...one of those dreams again." I explain with a sigh, his brown eyes softening and mouth curving to display a sincere sense of sympathy. If there's anything I hate more –
"Carls, it's been a while now. Maybe it's time to talk to somebod-"
"No," I interrupt coldly, a little too loudly for the empty quietness of the apartment at the dead of night. "I'm fine. It was just a dream." My words were more to reassure myself of this unreality than anything else. Spencer hesitates for a moment, flipping brown hair from his eyes, and visibly reluctantly changes the subject, and his demeanor to brother-therapist.
"So, what was it this time? ...If you want to talk about it, that is." he adds in quickly. I bite away at my nails before telling him every detail: the darkness suffocating me, the bright light, the dust, and the whirr of the...whatever they were; the way their sinister song seemed to screech on and on forever, repeatedly, the syllables seeming ominously familiar. Long before I finish, his eyebrows crease in a concerned knot on his forehead, but he seemed to erase the lines for my own good before answering.
"Well, let's see, chica," he begins after pondering a moment, shifting his weight and causing the mattress to moan again. "Hear that?" I half-heartedly nod, quickly realizing that this is a similar explanation to the one Spencer gives every night. "That's probably where the noises are coming from, with you tossing and turning in your nightmares. And you're all twisted up in your blankets," he points out. My eyes glance downward, and, sure enough, my body is entirely constricted by fleece and sheets. "Which might be why you were feeling so claustrophobic, too. Not to mention how dark it is in here, and hot, too," he adds, dramatically fanning his face before relieving the bed of his weight. Grooancreakmoan.
He sidles over to the thermostat near my door, turning the knob until it clicks to a lower temperature, although this does nothing to ease my ever-growing state of mental turmoil. His words had almost comforted me too much, as I knew the recurring dreams were far too meaningful to explain away. After all, Spencer had failed to find reason for half of the themes that accompanied the nightmare.
"See? Nothing to worry about. Why don't you try to get some more sleep?" I nod in empty approval, unwrapping myself from the constraining blankets before slipping as deeply into their warmth as I could, the sweat that had just graced my forehead now cooling away.
"Thanks, Spence," I whisper, my sweat-coated thighs sticking together under the thick blankets as I try to make myself comfortable.
"S'what I'm here for. You'll let me know if you need to talk...promise?" he eyes me suspiciously, and I nod, because I would spill every last detail...if I could.