TW: Paranoia, what is probably an anxiety attack, mentions of serial killers and graphic deaths
DC was watching a horror movie with the other states .
It was about a masked serial killer who murders in very creative and gruesome ways.
Very original I know.
DC was slightly on edge, but had mostly been fine so far. He had been entrusted with the popcorn and was sitting squashed between Colorado and Wyoming. Utah had his head in Colorado's lap, and Georgia was already half asleep.
DC didn't know how someone could sleep through a damn horror movie.
He was doing just fine, until the killer jumped out of nowhere. He jumps, the popcorn flying out of his lap and into everyone else. Especially himself.
"Awww c'mon!"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Well someone's a scaredy cat"
DC cringed internally, feeling very guilty.
Why did he even agree to a horror movie in the first place?
Colorado puts a hand on his back "You good?"
He nods, standing to clean up the popcorn
He spent the rest of the movie with his knees hugged to his chest, and eyes glued to the screen.
__
It was after the movie, after all the other states had gone to bed. All the lights were shut off, and he was the only one left awake. Great. Just perfect.
DC never really liked being up by himself, his thoughts always wandered the wrong way, but he keeps finding himself in the situation due to his stubbornness and refusal to have a good sleep schedule.
He moved through the halls, trying to focus on the door infront of him, and not the shadows in the corner of his eye. He couldn't focus too long on them, he'd start seeing shapes, like the killer, and everything would go downhill from there. His anxiety had started to spike already.
Lights. Lights would help.
He reached out to the switch before pausing and pulling his hand back. No. He couldn't do that. It might wake the others. He'd just have to brave the dark, alone, with the possibility of things lurking behind doors and corners and in every shadow, all out to get him.
He tried to repress as much of the anxiety and thoughts as he could, and made his way to the door, squashing the brief thought about the killer waiting for him there.
He flicked on the lights and quickly closed the door behind him.
DC sat at his desk and turned on the computer. Maybe he could get some work done to distract himself from his thoughts.
Not even five minutes later and he froze, listening for all sounds
The floor had creaked.
DC told himself it was just another state going to the bathroom or something.
He tries not to think about the killer from the movie. He knows it was fiction, that the killer really isn't there, but what if. And if he's not, there could still be another killer, a real one.
He was the only one awake, with his light on, he'd be the first to go.
After ten minutes if constantly checking the door, behind him, and analyzing every little sound, he decided to just go to bed. Not like he had been getting any work done anyway. If he ended up having a paranoia induced nightmare, he would probably not remember it in the morning. Plus, dying in your sleep is less painful and scary, since you don't know it's coming.
Besides, he wasn't able to get work done in this state anyway.
He got ready for sleep, flicking out the lights, and quickly climbing into bed.
He made the mistake of looking up, eyes locking into his closet door.
Someone could be behind there. It would've been really easy to sneak in there while he was watching that horror movie, to later pop out and kill him.
He thought he saw the shadow of a man moving out if the corner of his eye.
DC hid under his covers, squeezing his eyes shut and not moving a muscle. Maybe if he lay flat and didn't move, the killer wouldn't hurt him.
He tried to sleep, but he just couldn't calm down. His heart was beating out if his chest so fast he thought it might explode and he was breathing hard, unable to slow it. He wanted to cry. His stomach was a tight knit knot of anxiety and nausea.
Why did he have to convince himself of these things?
Why did he constantly have to be on edge?
After a few hours of not moving, his back hurting, he finally managed to fall into a light sleep.
__
Florida snuck up behind DC, who was making morning coffee #1. It was time to tease him about last night.
He spooked DC, who nearly jumped out of his skin, and dropped his coffee.
Florida laughs, too easy.
"Florida please don't do that." DC looked tired. Well, more then usual. He had extra bags under his eyes.
"Oh c'mon, you're such a scaredy cat, how could I not?"
"Just please...don't"
Florida paused. DC's tone was off.
Normally when he teased him, he sounded annoyed. Now he sounded...slightly panicked?
"Hey uh..DC? Are you ok?"
"Yep. Fine." DC glanced behind him, at the door, fidgeting with the cloth in his hands that he had grabbed to clean up the coffee spill.
"Are you sure? You look way more tired then usual"
"Thanks."
DC started wiping up the coffee. Florida grabbed another cloth and helped
"Something keep you up?"
DC was staring hard at the coffee, not looking up at him
"Nothing much....just a bit paranoid, that's all"
He was smiling slightly but Florida could yell it troubled him. He'd faked enough smiles of his own to know what was genuine.
"Oh ok..what about?"
"The movie, I know it's fiction but..yeah"
DC stood up, placing his cloth aside.
Florida suddenly felt guilty for scaring him earlier. God he was such an idiot.
"Right...Sorry for earlier.."
"It's fine Florida"
Florida stood up, discarding his cloth as well.
DC still looked very distracted.. maybe he could help steer away from those thoughts? At least for a little while? To make up for scaring him.
"Hey wanna go to Ikea and see if we can smuggle a bed out"
"I'm sorry what."
"I mean play poker with Louie and me"
"That's not-" DC sighed and met his eyes, a small smile on his face. A genuine one this time. "Yeah sure why not"
Florida grins and drags him away.