Statehouse Oneshots

Tomorrow

Montana opened his eyes slightly, staring at the ceiling. Or at least, trying to. It felt like a chore and his vision was all blurred, the light in his room was much too bright. He wanted to turn the light off so bad but his limbs felt like they were filled with lead. He just didn't have the energy to get out of bed.

Montana rolls over, squinting at the clock.

4 pm.

Wow. He'd been in bed for a while just laying there and thinking.. What a lazy piece of shit. He was supposed to get things done today!

Then again, he'd had been telling himself that for a few days. Every night it was the same thing. 'I'll get it done tomorrow, there's not enough time today and I'm tired. Tomorrow will be productive.' And yet he never did. He barely even left his pig sty of a room, just wasting his life away. He might think he was a dissapointment if there was anyone left in his life to actually dissapoint. Noooo he just had to be a huge asshole and push everyone away. Again.

Maybe staying here was for the better. He couldn't hurt anyone and no one would hurt him. He wouldn't have to socialize.
Yeah.
This was a good thing.
He'll just rot here forever. Why not, it was really comfy  and warm, and he didn't have to do anything.

Montana pulled the blanket over his eyes and drifted off once more.

The rest of the day was a blur. Or maybe it was more then a day and he was just reading the clock wrong again. He dud try to do stuff but the sleep was just so intoxicating, he could barely move. Or think. It was just easier to give in.

He just faded in and out of consciousness, only really getting up to go to the bathroom or grab a pre-made made snack.

There was knocking a few times, so loud it gave him a headache. Maybe he dreamt it though, it never really felt real.

His phone kept buzzing but it's not like he set any alarms, and no one contacts him. He just covered it with a pillow mound and called it a day.

He was pretty sure someone came into the room. He's not entirely sure what they said but it was something about this bring the fifth time they were here or something. Maybe to yell at him to get out of bed? That's not right though, this was the first and only time he remembers it happening.

Montana had replied with something, the words sapping what little energy he had left. He's not even sure if this person had heard it. He went to repeat it but was stopped by something touching him. It hurt and he didn't like it. He might've shoved them. He's hoping there wasn't actually a crash and that they didn't get hurt, but whatever happened, he can't remember them coming in again.

Later when the bright light had gone, someone had whispered Hannah in his ear. He supposed he might've been mad. Really he was just wishing they would stop trying to use that to get a rise out of him. He didn't have the energy to stop them this time so maybe it was his fault.

Soon though, he was met with the sweet sound of silence. He was relived and yet his eyes still stung like he was holding back tears. He probably was, but it was stupid, he had no reason to. He wasn't sad, or overcome with emotion. Honestly he was kind of bored. Kind of annoyed still. Especially since he didn't get anything done.

Whatever, there wasn't entirely in the day, and he was tired. He could do it tomorrow. Tomorrow would be different.