Transparent\\ dreamnotfound

Transparent; chapter 9

TW// anxiety, intrusive thoughts.

The silent room was suddenly filled with an awful siren. A familiar siren, very annoying. It blared through the speakers of the iPhone, vibrating against the wooden surface of the bedside table. George groaned, smacking his hand down on a pillow next to him, he gripped the fabric case in his hand, lifting the pillow above his face, then dropping it directly on top of him, both of his hands falling on top of it. The long groan turned into an exhausted yell, which was muffled from the thick cotton submerging his face. His hands clenched onto the case of the pillow, his knuckles turning white. So early, so tired. Realisation hits him like a bus.

Today was the day. Today.

"Holy shit" George cussed, his face still smothered by his pillow.

He threw the pillow across the room, it hit the white wall with a thud, falling onto the black carpet. He practically ripped the quilt off of his body, frantically jumping out of his bed. He stumbled on his feet for a second, the sudden movements causing his head to spin. The dizziness subsided, he ran towards his wardrobe, ripping out a pair of grey sweatpants and a tan jumper. He slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his tight shorts, slipping them down to his ankles and hopping out of them. He swiftly ripped a pair of boxers out his dresser, slipping them on and grabbing his sweatpants. He slipped one leg into the sweats, that damn alarm still blaring it's ass off. He attempted to hop towards his phone to stop the annoying siren whilst trying to slip his other leg into the sweats, sadly failing and falling onto his face. Déjà vu? He pushed himself off of the ground, pulling the sweats over his other leg completely, then tapping his phone hard enough to call it a hit. The blasting noise came to a stop, the brunette caught his breath for a moment, his hands now on his hips and his head lolled backwards. He glanced back down to his phone.

1:05am 'meeting Dream!'

George smiled at the label, closing his eyes, his head going slack. Until realisation hit once again, his head snapped back to his phone.

1:05am 'meeting Dream!'

George's eyebrows raised, his eyes widening "shhhit!" His flight was in fifty five minutes. Fifty five, fucking, minutes. The boy ran back over to his already selected outfit, throwing the tan jumper over his head. He decided to also wear a black 'the north face' jacket over it. He ran to the end of his bed, picking up the black suitcase with struggle and throwing it onto the mattress. He frantically checked the clothes that were packed. He had enough. The boy ran over to his wardrobe, picking up the clothes he slept in off the floor. He jogged back over to the suitcase and shoved them in, then turning to his bedside table, flicking off the power outlet and pulling out his charger. He walked back towards the bed to put it in his suitcase, his phone dropping to the floor, George forgot his phone was still plugged in. He pulled it up like some sort of bucket in a well, unplugging the phone and tossing the charger into the suitcase. Eyes scanned around the room. Do I need anything else? He thought. Light bulb. He paced out of his room and down the hallway, he stopped in front of his bathroom door, raising his knee to his chest and booting his door open. Which was extremely anticlimactic. He bent down, and flung open a white cabinet, which flung back and hit him in the side of the head.

"Ah- you mother fucker" he immediately brought his hand to the side of his head, rubbing it like a sook.

A few colognes sat on the white shelves in the cabinet. He reached for them, only pulling out two. He stood back up, grasping his blue toothbrush off the edge of the sink. He turned for the door, pulling it shut but leaving it ajar as he paced back down to his bedroom. Before opening his door, he stepped back, slightly turning to his side.