Stealth. (FtM Karl)

*insert title*

I'm struggling to come up w titles recently. DW, the inspo will come to me eventually.

Trigger warning:
(Based off what was put for earlier chapter)
-derealisation
-amnesia
-depersonalisation
-dissociation
-deadnaming
-jumping from building
-mentions of unaliving but Dw bestie it's all a dream 👍

(Will put recap on next chapter Dw)

-Time Skip 3 days-

Karl's pov:

The moment I opened my eyes, I knew immediately that something was off. The ceiling itself wasn't the same as the one I had studied so many times recently in...
Who's house was it?
My memories felt just out of my grasp, it itched at the back of my brain in a spot I couldn't quite reach.

Sitting up, I felt out of place.
This room, my own, wasn't what I was initially expecting to see when I woke up.
But what else would I expect?
That other room with the ceiling I knew, what did it look like?

I climbed out of bed and suddenly felt an urge to comb my fingers through my hair.
Why is it long?
Why wouldn't it be long?
But I could've sworn it was short, like I always wanted it to be.

I feel like gagging at the thought of having long hair, physically sick to my stomach just imagining it.
I can't handle it anymore.

Suddenly I'm in the bathroom, a pair of scissors in my hand. 'How did I get here?' Is not a question that I asked myself in that moment.
Without any sort of coordination, I just start cutting chunks of hair off.
Chunk after chunk, clumps of hair fall to the floor around my feet.

But nothing changes.
My hair is still long.

An overwhelming urge to scream bubbles up inside as I stare at the reflection infront of me. I start cutting again, again, again, again.
But nothing changes.
Why is there no change?
Why is it the same.

I turn away and throw my scissors at the wall, it bounces off and heads in my direction. I flinch and close my eyes, but no contact is made.

I slowly open my eyes, expecting to be jumped by the inanimate object once caught off guard.
But I'm no longer in the bathroom, I'm back in my room again.

I hear a familiar knock at my door; same pace, same rhythm, same force.
I open it.
There he is, the man himself, holding a letter for me.

"Mail for you, Kira." He states, handing me the plain envelope.

"Kira?" I repeat, the word feels alien on my tongue, it feels like I just said something offensive or unacceptable. The word just sounds unnatural.

He gives me a strange look before smiling, "you alright, sweetie?"
"Yeah, dad, I'm fine" I say without even realising, as if it's muscle memory, a programmed response.
"That's good. Come down when you're ready, breakfast is ready."

My mind is fuzzy, that itching at the back of my mind seems to surface and suddenly he's gone without even making a sound. And for some reason, I just don't question it.

For some reason, I felt a strong anger toward my father. The moment I saw him I wanted to scream, yell, slam the door and run. The second he said that name, I felt a wave of uncontrollable rage overcome me and I wanted to slap him across the face.
But what did he ever do to deserve that?

I feel like I just left the cinema to go to the toilet and came back after an important scene. Like I've missed something I should know about.
What did I miss though?
Maybe I feel this way because I just woke up from a strange dream...