When I saw you storming towards me, fist clenched so tightly that veins practically popped off your arms, I suppressed the urge to laugh. It was impossible not to see you hold back tears that kept the trembling fear, uncertainty, and weakness you stored so deeply within yourself.
You think I don't know you but you're the easiest person to read. The walls you've put up are nothing but thin, transparent glass. Much like your ego, with the lightest touch, the walls shatter into a million pieces. You desperately try to pick them up but end up hurting yourself in the process because you too are as fragile. You've always been spineless. Pitiful. Pathetic. A waste of air, really.
You pause just a step away from me and droplets of spit spray against my face as you scream, louder than I have ever heard you before. Despite this, I hear nothing but can't help let a small smirk emerge from across my cheeks once I see tears run down yours.
Your walls have been broken and within seconds, I'd be the one storming towards you.
The sound of a ticking clock had never been so obnoxiously loud. With every passing second came an unwelcome annoyance which Sonny tried to block out with a pillow to his face. No matter his best efforts, the ticking kept him from his much needed sleep and he was left turning and twisting around in bed for hours.
Utterly defeated, the detective let his thoughts drift to the day that passed. It was the usual scene of the occasional groper and flasher being dragged into the precinct. Loads of paperwork for a recent case also kept him busy, and he somehow found himself being the only present detective of the Special Victims Unit at 2:00AM. It wasn't unusual, spending his Friday nights signing off on documents. But, with the change of pace of finding himself resting at home, on his own bed for once was something he was grateful for.
With the thought of paperwork in mind, Sonny's eyes fluttered close and body went limp. Finally, he was resting. But, despite his dazed state, the sound of the ticking clock was still evident and somehow the volume began to heighten. It was as if it was getting closer and closer towards him, but through his blurry vision, the clock remained on the wall.
Louder, and louder and louder it ticked until the sound was simply indistinguishable. Unable to open his eyes, he found he was stuck in darkness with only the sound of that godawful noise to keep him company.
The noise began to morph into something more recognizable, yet more terrifying than the last. Perhaps thudding or banging-- it was a sound loud enough to make his ears ring.
Shot guns. They were shot guns. Shot guns were heard as each second passed by. One by one, another round came traveling through Sonnys brain. He much preferred the ticking noise that seemed so peaceful now.
But still, no matter how hard he tried opening his eyes, they would not budge. Nothing but pitch black, then brown, then red. Then the sound of screaming as each bullet fired. A voice yelled at him for help but for once, he was left frozen, leaving this poor victim alone with each passing second. Each passing bullet. Each passing hit.
Sonny jolted up, breath heavy and whole body shaking. A wet substance dripped against the side of his head and he hesitantly touched it. Looking at the tips of his fingers, he let out a sigh of relief seeing it was just his sweat and not blood. The sound of the ticking could be heard but thankfully, it was much more tame.
Sonny, glancing around the room, was suddenly aware of the bunk beds that surrounded him and solemn grey, brick walls. Unlike the pyjamas he thought he was wearing, he wore a button up with his vest and blazer tossed to the side. Figures, only in his dreams can he have the time to sleep in his own home.
The tired gentleman nearly jumped at the sound of his alarm going off and he rolled his eyes at both his phone and himself. Grabbing his device from the floor, he hit the snooze button and rested it beside him. With a sigh, he allowed his feet to plant on the ground. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the concrete floor blankly, still processing his rather vivid nightmare. He had similar ones before, but this one seemed too real.
It was sudden when a stream of light flashed his eyes and he found himself squinting. Sonny turned his head towards the exit door seeing light spilling through and the familiar blonde, Amanda, peaking her head in.
"Rise and shine, Carisi!" She greeted him, hair all curled up and done, with an expensive looking outfit. Sonny wasn't quite sure if she was dressed for her birthday celebration she was having later or for court.
"Kirks verdict is about to be announced." She answered, as if she heard his internal thoughts.
Amanda raised an eyebrow, giving Sonny a quick look up and down. He could only imagine the condition his hair was in and the wrinkles in his clothing.
"Give me a minute, will you?" His voice was much more coarse than he expected.
Amanda nodded but gave him a teasing look before shutting the door and leaving him be.
Again, he was left in the dim room with only the ticking clock to keep him company.