(no subject)
[OOM: All Sam'd wanted to do was paint.]
For a split-second he wonders if he went through the wrong door, but he could reach the mural/miscellaneous storage/whatever room in his sleep, he was in there so often. No, it wasn't the wrong door.
Somehow he finds the presence of mind to tug the strap of his backpack back up onto his shoulder, his other hand still shoved into his pants pocket but no longer bothering with the barrette. He blinks incredulously around him. It's all he can do, really. He's pretty sure if he tries to move in any direction he'll fall flat on his face.
"...Uh?" The sound escapes before he thinks and he quickly clamps his mouth shut into a tight, thin line. His first panicked thought is that his mural's gone. And Grandma, too. The whole room is gone and in its place is...a...
Huh.
For a split-second he wonders if he went through the wrong door, but he could reach the mural/miscellaneous storage/whatever room in his sleep, he was in there so often. No, it wasn't the wrong door.
Somehow he finds the presence of mind to tug the strap of his backpack back up onto his shoulder, his other hand still shoved into his pants pocket but no longer bothering with the barrette. He blinks incredulously around him. It's all he can do, really. He's pretty sure if he tries to move in any direction he'll fall flat on his face.
"...Uh?" The sound escapes before he thinks and he quickly clamps his mouth shut into a tight, thin line. His first panicked thought is that his mural's gone. And Grandma, too. The whole room is gone and in its place is...a...
Huh.