KatnessGaming

“Motherfucker.”  The frozen screen of my Mac stares up at me, mocking me with its stillness.  That end of the world feeling you get when you haven’t saved something you spent the last 5 hours working on washes over me. “Come on, baby.  You can do it,” I mutter as I caress the screen, as if that would keep it from acting like a twat.  It makes a frustrated buzzing noise before returning to normal.  I heave out a relieved sigh and go to save it when my phone starts ringing from across the room.  I pull myself out of my chair with a begrudging sigh. “Hello?” I answer, using this as an opportunity for a

"I don't wanna do this anymore!" Dick yelled, ripping his sunglasses off. Wally ran his fingers through his red locks. "I know you've been going through a rough time Rob, but-" "MY NAME ISN'T ROB, WALLY! IT'S RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON! DICK GRAYSON, RICHARD, EVEN DICKIE! BUT NOT. ROB!" Dick threw his glasses at the redhead. Wally took the abuse without a complaint. It was the least he could do for his friend. He knew how much Dick had been going through lately, and how painful it was for the young teenager. "Come here." Wally extended his arms to the distraught boy. "No. It's okay, I'm fine now. Just the meds messing with my emotions again."

I'm lying down in a bed that's not mine and the person next to me is not Wally. I'm on this stupid mathelete trip for a tournament and because of a room mix up, there aren't enough beds for everyone to have their own. So I'm sharing. And I'm not getting a wink of sleep. I don't even know who this guy is. Sure, we're on the same team but we don't talk. At all. This warmth next to me isn't Wally's. It's not familiar, or comforting, or safe. This breathing isn't his. It's erratic and noisy and just plain annoying. And when he brushes against me because he's a wild sleeper, it's just not the same. Heavy and rough, not smooth and gentle. Instead