(no subject)
WHO: Terrance Ward & Dr. Jonathan Crane.
WHERE: Terry's apartment.
WHEN: Backdated a few days. Evening.
WARNINGS: Teenage angst.
SUMMARY: The doctor and his protege have a chat.
FORMAT: Para or something.
Terrance hadn't been sleeping much. It was a foreign place with foreign circumstances -- and more than that, he had things on his mind. Lots of things. Things like morality and mortality, crime and punishment. Things most boys his age didn't care about. And always, in the back of his head, were those whispers of spiders and dark places and my father's belt --
They never stopped.
Abby had given him the apartment across from hers. Told him that she would take care of it, at least until he figured his own things out. He hated to accept a favor like that, but she'd been insistent, and maybe (maybe) he still felt bad about things. She was a nice girl, Abby. She'd never deserved any of the things he'd done to her. And the worst was, she wasn't even the most devastated of his victims. Not by far.
The apartment was bare and impersonal. Terrance hadn't bothered with it much. Whatever furniture it had belonged to the previous owner. When he was there, he brooded. He let his thoughts and his conscience eat him alive. He left the lights off and sat by the window, letting the quiet trickle of fear slip in and out of his mind.
The doctor would be coming soon. There was something else to think about, too. Terry didn't have the words for it yet.
WHERE: Terry's apartment.
WHEN: Backdated a few days. Evening.
WARNINGS: Teenage angst.
SUMMARY: The doctor and his protege have a chat.
FORMAT: Para or something.
Terrance hadn't been sleeping much. It was a foreign place with foreign circumstances -- and more than that, he had things on his mind. Lots of things. Things like morality and mortality, crime and punishment. Things most boys his age didn't care about. And always, in the back of his head, were those whispers of spiders and dark places and my father's belt --
They never stopped.
Abby had given him the apartment across from hers. Told him that she would take care of it, at least until he figured his own things out. He hated to accept a favor like that, but she'd been insistent, and maybe (maybe) he still felt bad about things. She was a nice girl, Abby. She'd never deserved any of the things he'd done to her. And the worst was, she wasn't even the most devastated of his victims. Not by far.
The apartment was bare and impersonal. Terrance hadn't bothered with it much. Whatever furniture it had belonged to the previous owner. When he was there, he brooded. He let his thoughts and his conscience eat him alive. He left the lights off and sat by the window, letting the quiet trickle of fear slip in and out of his mind.
The doctor would be coming soon. There was something else to think about, too. Terry didn't have the words for it yet.