Thanks for the reviews; they were much appreciated.
…Back to exploring the Greg & Sara dynamic…
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"Flashbacks?" Sara repeated, wondering if she heard him right. She looked nervously past his form; checking that there was no one in the corridor. She didn't want anyone to hear this exchange.
She didn't want to hear this exchange.
"I get them too," he said, trying to reassure her. She looked so nervous; like a deer caught in headlights; dazed, confused, and strangely mesmerised.
Sara looked into his eyes; making sure he was being serious. He looked it. She could never be sure with Greg. He could sometimes act like an idiot, but sometimes, his words threw her into a world of confusion.
He seemed like two people at times; one immensely profound, with incite into a vast amount of areas, and the other…well, the other seemed to have the intellectual capacity of a child.
It was hard to know which part of the persona you were dealing with; and you had to adjust yourself accordingly.
She tried to compose the statement in her mind, "I don't get flashbacks…I was just…remembering." She said finally.
It was true; she was remembering, just recalling images stored in the long-term memory, playing them out how they happened…how they could have happened.
They weren't flashbacks.
Greg regarded her. She had stammered. Sara hardly ever did that; unless she was lying. Lying or incredibly nervous. Or both.
"Next you'll tell me you don't wake up in a cold sweat wondering if you really did die." He snapped, before even considering the implications of his words.
She gave him a cold stare.
How did he know?
She hasn't told anyone about the dreams…
…The nightmares.
Yet he knew.
She mentally tried to picture if she'd slept in the lab recently; maybe she'd called something out…maybe he heard her, and assumed…but she couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept in her own bed…
….Or anyone else's….
…. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually 'slept.'
He was staring back at her, knowledgably, and she resented this; she hated the thought that anyone had an incite into her personal life.
"The explosion wasn't that bad Greg," she lied, hoping that it would make him leave; or at least drop the subject matter.
"If it wasn't, why were you standing there for 5 minutes with your eyes closed," he rebuked seriously, a tone of annoyance in his voice.
"I..I was just remembering." She uttered. It was true…she was just remembering…5 minutes? Had she really been standing there for that long? It didn't seem it.
He knew she was denying it, but decided against pushing his luck. If she wasn't ready to admit how much the explosion had affect her, that was fine by him. He was coping by himself. It wasn't like he needed anyone to talk to…. did he?
"Sure Sara." He said coolly, "but if you ever want to talk, I'm around," he continued softly, then started walking away from her.
"I'm always around," He shouted, just loud enough for her to hear, before he disappeared from sight.
She watched him leave; and her stomach filled with knots of uncertainty. And questions.
How did he know? Did he get them too?
She hated the thought that something beyond her control was affecting her.
She shook her head, and tried to place the conversation into the back of her mind. She'd deal with it later.
*Work comes first…it always does.*
*
He remembered his first flashback, it was just after Catherine had left his room at the hospital, she described everything with such detail…and it had left multiple images.
Those images needed somewhere to go…so they turned into a flashback. It was nothing to be ashamed of.
They didn't bother him as much as the nightmares.
He'd been experiencing some insomnia. He usually tried to compensate with coffee; after all he needed something trying to keep him in the wakening world.
He usually ended up trying to sleep in front the TV when he got home; he had a sketchy recall of most of the infomercials shown on various networks. They seemed to blend together, and if he did nap, he ended up dreaming of products or life insurance.
Anything was better than waking up with memories of the explosion.
But they seemed stronger than any memories. They always seemed so real.
And they always started the same way as the explosion.
But ended so differently.
In his dreams; people died.
And when he went into the lab the next day, he would make sure that everyone was still there, still alive…make sure he was just dreaming.
He shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts.
*…. After all, work comes first…*
He ran his hand along his neck, feeling the smooth scar tissue that had formed. He ran his nails lightly along it.
He could hardly feel it.
It was numb.
He only wished that the memories were numb too.
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As regards my WIP's as far as I know I only have 3: 'Breathless' – which seems fine without another chapter, 'The Human Condition' – which I personally don't think is that great since I wrote it when I was ill, and 'The CD' – which also seems like it's finished.
Please review! It takes less than a miniute…
…Back to exploring the Greg & Sara dynamic…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Flashbacks?" Sara repeated, wondering if she heard him right. She looked nervously past his form; checking that there was no one in the corridor. She didn't want anyone to hear this exchange.
She didn't want to hear this exchange.
"I get them too," he said, trying to reassure her. She looked so nervous; like a deer caught in headlights; dazed, confused, and strangely mesmerised.
Sara looked into his eyes; making sure he was being serious. He looked it. She could never be sure with Greg. He could sometimes act like an idiot, but sometimes, his words threw her into a world of confusion.
He seemed like two people at times; one immensely profound, with incite into a vast amount of areas, and the other…well, the other seemed to have the intellectual capacity of a child.
It was hard to know which part of the persona you were dealing with; and you had to adjust yourself accordingly.
She tried to compose the statement in her mind, "I don't get flashbacks…I was just…remembering." She said finally.
It was true; she was remembering, just recalling images stored in the long-term memory, playing them out how they happened…how they could have happened.
They weren't flashbacks.
Greg regarded her. She had stammered. Sara hardly ever did that; unless she was lying. Lying or incredibly nervous. Or both.
"Next you'll tell me you don't wake up in a cold sweat wondering if you really did die." He snapped, before even considering the implications of his words.
She gave him a cold stare.
How did he know?
She hasn't told anyone about the dreams…
…The nightmares.
Yet he knew.
She mentally tried to picture if she'd slept in the lab recently; maybe she'd called something out…maybe he heard her, and assumed…but she couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept in her own bed…
….Or anyone else's….
…. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually 'slept.'
He was staring back at her, knowledgably, and she resented this; she hated the thought that anyone had an incite into her personal life.
"The explosion wasn't that bad Greg," she lied, hoping that it would make him leave; or at least drop the subject matter.
"If it wasn't, why were you standing there for 5 minutes with your eyes closed," he rebuked seriously, a tone of annoyance in his voice.
"I..I was just remembering." She uttered. It was true…she was just remembering…5 minutes? Had she really been standing there for that long? It didn't seem it.
He knew she was denying it, but decided against pushing his luck. If she wasn't ready to admit how much the explosion had affect her, that was fine by him. He was coping by himself. It wasn't like he needed anyone to talk to…. did he?
"Sure Sara." He said coolly, "but if you ever want to talk, I'm around," he continued softly, then started walking away from her.
"I'm always around," He shouted, just loud enough for her to hear, before he disappeared from sight.
She watched him leave; and her stomach filled with knots of uncertainty. And questions.
How did he know? Did he get them too?
She hated the thought that something beyond her control was affecting her.
She shook her head, and tried to place the conversation into the back of her mind. She'd deal with it later.
*Work comes first…it always does.*
*
He remembered his first flashback, it was just after Catherine had left his room at the hospital, she described everything with such detail…and it had left multiple images.
Those images needed somewhere to go…so they turned into a flashback. It was nothing to be ashamed of.
They didn't bother him as much as the nightmares.
He'd been experiencing some insomnia. He usually tried to compensate with coffee; after all he needed something trying to keep him in the wakening world.
He usually ended up trying to sleep in front the TV when he got home; he had a sketchy recall of most of the infomercials shown on various networks. They seemed to blend together, and if he did nap, he ended up dreaming of products or life insurance.
Anything was better than waking up with memories of the explosion.
But they seemed stronger than any memories. They always seemed so real.
And they always started the same way as the explosion.
But ended so differently.
In his dreams; people died.
And when he went into the lab the next day, he would make sure that everyone was still there, still alive…make sure he was just dreaming.
He shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts.
*…. After all, work comes first…*
He ran his hand along his neck, feeling the smooth scar tissue that had formed. He ran his nails lightly along it.
He could hardly feel it.
It was numb.
He only wished that the memories were numb too.
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As regards my WIP's as far as I know I only have 3: 'Breathless' – which seems fine without another chapter, 'The Human Condition' – which I personally don't think is that great since I wrote it when I was ill, and 'The CD' – which also seems like it's finished.
Please review! It takes less than a miniute…