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Jun. 5th, 2009 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
americankittenThis is my newest piece, a part of a short story about the show House MD. I'm sure many of you are familliar with it. It starts up at the end of Season Five. This is only the beginning, i don't know how long I'm gonna make it just yet. I'll keep you updated. =]
"Why do you keep following me around?" Greg said tiredly, looking around. He knew this place well enough. He had visited it a few times too many, but only once before was it like this. A completely white bus, with a cut throat bitch sitting next to him.
"Why do you keep seeing me?" she replied, playing his game. Though, this time, he wasn't playing a game. For once in his miserbale life, Greg was actually serious. Too bad he was talking to a hallucination. Eventually he would wake up, he knew, so he had to take the chance before being woken up and given medicine.
Greg sighed. "I'm trying to figure that out." he said, looking down.
"You know the answer. It's something you've been avoiding to accept this whole time." Amber looked at him with a sincere look on her face. If she were allive he would scoff and insult her with a metaphor, then limp away.
Greg stood up after this thought, enjoying the pain free experience. He wanted to suck up every minute of it.
"Why after all these years of taking Vicodin am I only seeing you recently?" He said, pacing the length of the bus.
"You're gonna miss this place aren't you?" she said, avoiding his question. Greg stopped and looked at her, nodded, then continued to pace.
"I'm gonna miss being dependant on Vicodin too." He admitted in a quiet voice he normally didn't use. He sat down on the seat across from her, putting his chin on his fist. "But I'm not gonna miss you, cut throat bitch." He said, reverting back to his old, asshole self.
"Not now. But eventually you'll stop seeing me. Until then, let's meet again, shall we?" she smiled, and the bus started slowly fading away, into the real world.
Wait, what? Greg thought, looking around. Was he really on a bus now? Seemed real enough. It was moving. He could see the people's faces. He could hear the usual noises. The bus driver wasn't asian and wasn't having a seisure. And Amber was nowhere in sight.
Maybe I was just hallucinating. Or maybe I'm still hallucinating. God I hate confusion. Greg sighed and rested his head on the back of his seat. The seat got softer, the noises changed, the bus dissappeared, and he was back in bed, where he was sleeping all along.
"Why do you keep following me around?" Greg said tiredly, looking around. He knew this place well enough. He had visited it a few times too many, but only once before was it like this. A completely white bus, with a cut throat bitch sitting next to him.
"Why do you keep seeing me?" she replied, playing his game. Though, this time, he wasn't playing a game. For once in his miserbale life, Greg was actually serious. Too bad he was talking to a hallucination. Eventually he would wake up, he knew, so he had to take the chance before being woken up and given medicine.
Greg sighed. "I'm trying to figure that out." he said, looking down.
"You know the answer. It's something you've been avoiding to accept this whole time." Amber looked at him with a sincere look on her face. If she were allive he would scoff and insult her with a metaphor, then limp away.
Greg stood up after this thought, enjoying the pain free experience. He wanted to suck up every minute of it.
"Why after all these years of taking Vicodin am I only seeing you recently?" He said, pacing the length of the bus.
"You're gonna miss this place aren't you?" she said, avoiding his question. Greg stopped and looked at her, nodded, then continued to pace.
"I'm gonna miss being dependant on Vicodin too." He admitted in a quiet voice he normally didn't use. He sat down on the seat across from her, putting his chin on his fist. "But I'm not gonna miss you, cut throat bitch." He said, reverting back to his old, asshole self.
"Not now. But eventually you'll stop seeing me. Until then, let's meet again, shall we?" she smiled, and the bus started slowly fading away, into the real world.
Wait, what? Greg thought, looking around. Was he really on a bus now? Seemed real enough. It was moving. He could see the people's faces. He could hear the usual noises. The bus driver wasn't asian and wasn't having a seisure. And Amber was nowhere in sight.
Maybe I was just hallucinating. Or maybe I'm still hallucinating. God I hate confusion. Greg sighed and rested his head on the back of his seat. The seat got softer, the noises changed, the bus dissappeared, and he was back in bed, where he was sleeping all along.
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