Justin Mark Campbell (
likefatherlikeson) wrote in
muserevival2015-09-01 01:01 pm
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099.2. Muse Prompt - Quotes
"I prefer physical exhaustion over mental fatigue any day." - Clotilde Hesme
If he could just keep staring at that spot on the wall across from him, he could almost convince himself he wouldn’t throw up. All in all, he felt like he was coping pretty well. That didn’t mean he was coping good by any stretch of the concept, but he was holding it together if he just kept sitting there staring at the wall until some news came.
He hated the fact he couldn’t be in there with his dad while they were working to help him and fix him. No one but the doctors and nurses could be in there yet. Justin knew if he moved, he was going to completely lose his shit. He was terrified his dad was going to die, even if they couldn’t confirm at that point if he had another heart attack or not. If he died, it would be Justin’s fault. Right now, he couldn’t even handle being touched or hugged. Someone tried to comfort him with a hug when he first got to the hospital and he nearly jumped out of his skin and pushed them away from him. Anxiety and fear weren’t his friends.
He was mentally drained. He had to push all his focus into waiting for news about his dad, because he was down to the wire with his emotions. He was sitting there so tense and coiled that he had scraped gouges into his palms with his nails to the point they were bleeding. There was a lot of commotion and activity going on around him, but he had tuned it out. If he let himself acknowledge it, it would be another thing to set him on edge. They didn’t know what was wrong. All they knew was that Dani had found his dad collapsed and unconscious in his office. He was pale, sweating, and not breathing. When the paramedics arrived, they started to help him, and there was a cardiac arrest but they helped him with that shock thing they do.
In a way, it was a blessing Justin hadn’t been the one to find him. It would’ve tipped him over the edge again. And his Uncle Sam was in there. That seemed to dilute the terror a little bit that could help Justin keep it together. No one knew what was wrong, though Justin had caught snippets of conversation passing him by that his dad had looked worn out and exhausted these past couple of weeks. Justin knew that was his fault too. He wanted to run away. Far away, where he couldn’t hurt his family anymore. They would be better off in the long run, right?
But he couldn’t. He had waited his whole life to meet his dad, and how he felt like he couldn’t live without him. That wasn’t even a metaphor. He knew it was the complete and accurate truth. Now his dad was sick, and it might be really serious, and Justin was terrified he was going to lose him right when he just found him. He was oblivious to the fact his dad thought exactly the same thing about him.
Then it all just got too much and, like flicking a switch, he broke down in tears. He tried to bury his face in his hands, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the ground to open up and swallow him. It hurt so much and he couldn’t stop the pained sobs, even if there was a huge chance he would be as embarrassed as all fuck later. He didn’t want to try to keep it together. He couldn’t. And why the fuck should he when, no matter what he did, things just never stopped hurting?
Justin Campbell
Original Character
If he could just keep staring at that spot on the wall across from him, he could almost convince himself he wouldn’t throw up. All in all, he felt like he was coping pretty well. That didn’t mean he was coping good by any stretch of the concept, but he was holding it together if he just kept sitting there staring at the wall until some news came.
He hated the fact he couldn’t be in there with his dad while they were working to help him and fix him. No one but the doctors and nurses could be in there yet. Justin knew if he moved, he was going to completely lose his shit. He was terrified his dad was going to die, even if they couldn’t confirm at that point if he had another heart attack or not. If he died, it would be Justin’s fault. Right now, he couldn’t even handle being touched or hugged. Someone tried to comfort him with a hug when he first got to the hospital and he nearly jumped out of his skin and pushed them away from him. Anxiety and fear weren’t his friends.
He was mentally drained. He had to push all his focus into waiting for news about his dad, because he was down to the wire with his emotions. He was sitting there so tense and coiled that he had scraped gouges into his palms with his nails to the point they were bleeding. There was a lot of commotion and activity going on around him, but he had tuned it out. If he let himself acknowledge it, it would be another thing to set him on edge. They didn’t know what was wrong. All they knew was that Dani had found his dad collapsed and unconscious in his office. He was pale, sweating, and not breathing. When the paramedics arrived, they started to help him, and there was a cardiac arrest but they helped him with that shock thing they do.
In a way, it was a blessing Justin hadn’t been the one to find him. It would’ve tipped him over the edge again. And his Uncle Sam was in there. That seemed to dilute the terror a little bit that could help Justin keep it together. No one knew what was wrong, though Justin had caught snippets of conversation passing him by that his dad had looked worn out and exhausted these past couple of weeks. Justin knew that was his fault too. He wanted to run away. Far away, where he couldn’t hurt his family anymore. They would be better off in the long run, right?
But he couldn’t. He had waited his whole life to meet his dad, and how he felt like he couldn’t live without him. That wasn’t even a metaphor. He knew it was the complete and accurate truth. Now his dad was sick, and it might be really serious, and Justin was terrified he was going to lose him right when he just found him. He was oblivious to the fact his dad thought exactly the same thing about him.
Then it all just got too much and, like flicking a switch, he broke down in tears. He tried to bury his face in his hands, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the ground to open up and swallow him. It hurt so much and he couldn’t stop the pained sobs, even if there was a huge chance he would be as embarrassed as all fuck later. He didn’t want to try to keep it together. He couldn’t. And why the fuck should he when, no matter what he did, things just never stopped hurting?
Original Character