The Neighbor Next Door

Distance.

A horrible end to his Friday, really. Of course, when he finally did manage to fall back asleep for the night, his brain had to plague him with one of his many nightmares. A regular one to his mind, but that never made it any better when it happened. He had been thinking too much about his brother lately, and of course this was the result.

Another third person view. He was small, and watching from the grass. He didn't have to watch it happen again. The event didn't replay itself in his mind this time, but it was still so jarring. He felt dizzy, and... And the body under the car didn't look like his brother's.

He didn't recognize who it was. Not at first. Whoever it was, certainly wasn't a robot though. They weren't in the same clothes Red had been in. They didn't look the same either. He felt a cold chill run down his spine, this wasn't... This was twisted. This wasn't right, and he didn't understand why it was different now. Especially if it was someone he couldn't even... Recognize. And then a horrible, terrifying realization.

He felt sick, even in this dream. He couldn't let this happen to him, too. This couldn't be real, or happening, or--

Saturday started out with a text to Fan. His hands trembled as he texted the other, but after jolting awake around five in the morning, unable to stop himself from crying for the following three hours past that, he had been far too afraid to even try to sleep again after that.

'prob not makingto movie night tonight'

'next week maybe.sorry for calling off so late' Leaving it at that.

He still had yet to check what OJ texted him, and he hadn't been contacted back from his brother yet. Parts of him were glad. Relieved, especially after such a jarring nightmare, but he was still worried now. He was very worried, and scared. His brain ran with the idea this was a possible bad omen. Something that hasn't happened yet, but something that could. Not necessarily what the dream depicted, but...

MePhone would never forgive himself if his proximity got the people close to him hurt. His feelings of needing to isolate himself came crashing all the way back down this morning, just as he was starting to feel neutral again. A wrench in his initial recovery, at least from what happened on Monday. And another unpleasant thought, that he really hadn't been healing at all. Something that had been vaguely in his mind since the whole lunch incident, but not something he chose to think about, unless he didn't have a choice. He was still just stuck in the same spot he had always been in. Repeating the cycle over and over every time he fell. Failing to claw out and fix himself. How was he supposed to fix something so broken, anyways? How was he going to heal in the place that broke him in the first place?

He didn't want to entertain that thought. He was fine here. It wasn't the house. It wasn't the memories, it was him. He was the problem. He wasn't healing, and he wasn't trying, because he was just... He shook off this train of thought as best he could, a tightness forming in his throat. He had to get up and do stuff. He had to do anything. So he got up, slipping his phone in his pocket, and heading into the living room. It was only around ten in the morning now, so he might as well feed the cat.

He wasn't healing at all, and sometimes it felt like he wasn't even making progress as a person. A thought that made him stop in his tracks halfway down the hall, the tightness in his throat only getting worse. Was he even much of a person in the first place? Was he really anything more than a quiet, useless shell? Sometimes, he didn't even feel like he had much of a personality to him. Not when all he felt was looming sadness. Not when Every time he tried to express any sense of self, it was stomped down by everyone in his life. By his dad, by his school, his peers, the business associates at the party.

He really was just a shell.

His legs felt weak. A weight that shoved him down, a weight that wouldn't leave as he almost stumbled over to the kitchen counter to keep himself up, his breathing growing a bit erratic. He was fine. He was fine. He didn't need to be reacting like this right now. He wanted to be normal again, Gods he wanted to feel normal, why did he feel like he just left one terrible mood spiral only to enter a new one, why did he--