literature

100 Themes Challenge: #37: Urban

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Theme #37 : Urban
Character: Tino Väinämöinen

He had the urge to rip the place apart, to shred the carpet into nothing, to tatter the very essence of the room itself until nothing remained. He wanted to see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing, be nothing.

It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. It played on his spirit for the past few decades, eating away inside his chest, throbbing painfully with each breath, a constant pang within reminding him that his time may never be up.

He never let the Others see.

He was on a downward spiral, one that he had been caught up in for longer than he cares to admit to himself.

There were a few escapes more easily available to him now. There was alcohol, the substance nearly unchanged in the last thousand or so years. There were various vapors he had access to that would layer his lungs, cripple his inhibitions, and bring a sense of constricted relief that only a raw throat could bring. Recently, he had become fond of certain chemicals, chemicals that distorted the chaos around him, somehow restoring it into something beautiful and far less troubling.

But as the effects wore off, so did his contentment.

He was fond of each of these temporary highs, but the fix only lasts for so long.

He was desperate for more. He craved more, needed more.

There were other solutions. Music was merely a minuscule and temporary bliss, but it did bring at least an hour's peace. There was sex, something he never really did find as appetizing as his coworkers and friends seemed to suggest. He was growing bored.

He found it his personal miracle that he was able to maintain his placid and cheerful charade while around the Others. They still believed him to be the calm and naive Tino, never one to fall headfirst onto the other side of the tracks.

But in his time he had seen layers of Hell that not even Dante could have anticipated.

This withdrawal was the worst. It had been days since his last fix, his moves fidgety and frantic. He was desperate for an outlet; he needed any form of escape. Unfortunately, country houses and shooting practice can't always cure the desires he suffered.

His fingers kept tapping on his already shaking legs, the other passengers watching him warily.

For someone dressed so casually, his actions screamed that he was anything but.

His nose was quivering, his eyes dry,
    
    his muscles tensing,
                    
                only to release again in seconds.

                                        -And repeat.


His breathing was bated;

                in one moment he could scarcely breathe,
                        the next he was inhaling only once every 10-20 seconds.



He was cold, the sweat building up on his neck a sign that he didn't have much time left.

It hadn't always been this bad.



A few years ago, it had only been a casual pass-time, a way to relax after a particularly stressful week. He adored each of his mates, really he did, but there were moments in which the irritation and fury couldn't be contained.

Those moments led to these sorts of situations: his casual clothes (a wardrobe that could rival Arthur's on any day of the week), a quick jab into his system, and maybe a girl or a guy to clear his mind.

Those few hours of detachment and aloofness gradually became too few and far between, and soon he found himself making dates with a dealer and skipping outings with his family. He was slipping further and further behind the veil, and now he was so attached to the other side that there was no way to get away from it.

His heavy eyes flickered around the train, bored of the darkness beyond his window. There were still several moments until they reached the city itself, his breath hitching constantly.



God he needed a distraction.




The floor was some putrid green and orange pattern, one that reminded him vaguely of some stupid cartoon channel that had been in Al's place a few years ago. The walls were no longer the ugly beige, now adorned with anti-rape and drug campaigns, unknown splatters littering the unfortunate structure.

It was horrendous.

In his mind, he was picking the place apart, piece-by-piece. First the people were gone: the lady with her three grocery bags and floral print purse, the businessman talking too loudly into his phone while his young daughter played with her truck, the girl across from him that had been frowning in his direction since the beginning of the ride. All of them were gone.

Though removing himself was the difficult part.

Next came the seats. Unimportant, the drab blue having no place in the already tasteless scheme. Were he more coherant, perhaps he would have mentally replaced the colors in this damn car.

Next came the walls, the floor. There was no outside world, only this. This empty space.


He was alone now, alone with a circumference of nothing, a sphere of endless opportunity encasing him. He oculd feel his heartrate slowing down, this emptiness filling him.

It was peaceful, this feeling.

He always had this urge to clear the world away, to see if the Universe could carry on without them. From these delusions he confer that yes, yes the world, the Universe, Time itself, could easily continue without their existence.


Without me...

His eyes drifted shut, his nerves finally relaxing.

So quiet...

So where was this pain coming from?

It was taking so much effort to open his eyes, the light unforgiving as the cracks began to appear behind his lids. He closed them again, the fatigue nearly claiming him once again.

I'm warm. Go away...

Another jolt struck him, and he forced his eyes open again, glaring at the first person they landed on.

Fuck off...

He vaguely recognized the face from somewhere, the fiery (e/c) eyes livid at him, panic clear. Her lips were moving, and his eyes languidly swept their way around, noting several other faces he couldn't place. He thought he heard a little girl crying in the background, but he couldn't be sure.

What are you saying?

A pain began to grow on his cheek, and his mind groggily recognized that the girl above him had slapped him, her voice slowly coming through the fog within his mind.

You don't belong in my nothingness...

"Come on, man! Don't you dare die on us!"

The words took a while to register, taking their time to bounce around his conscious for a moment, finally settling at the bottom of his sphere, seeping into his thoughts.

I can't die, silly girl...

Something at the back of his mind told him that this statement was horribly wrong. It was also at this time that he realized that he was no longer frantically leaning against his seat, legs curled in awkward angles to control his twitching.

How long have I been on the floor...

Why wasn't his voice working?

"My name is (Y/n). I'm an EMT. I'm 89% sure that you're suffering a withdrawal. Do you mind if I treat you until I can get you to the hospital?"

Her words took a while to sink in, but he found the strength to attempt a nod.

I don't know what's going on!
Why can't I answer you?



I just need another fix and I'll be fine...




She must have seen the minuscule movement, and she began tending him, her ministrations unacknowledged as she went through her work.

His eyes were unfocused: everything was so hazy and fogged over, like one of those frosted windows designed for office buildings. The lights were too bright, the only thing cutting through the mist within his mind.

That nothingness was everywhere, his entire body going numb now.

So tired... I'm so tired...

"Tino! Stay with me, come on!"

That's not my name, dear...



His eyes closed on their own accord, and he released a soft breath as he surrendered to the nothingness. The numbness encircled his very soul, emptiness filling him completely. There was nothing left.






No Tino.
No Finland.
Nothing.


He was nothing at last, and it felt lighter than he had ever felt before.










So this is what peace is like.
So...

Hi. It's been awhile. I've been having the most obscene amount of writer's block that you can imagine. I'm back in classes, and busier than ever. I have five classes, a practicum that takes up several hours each week, still working on Crusader and Paranormal, and may get two jobs this semester instead of just one. Now I'm working at a daycare instead of the library, so that's another thing for my resume. Lucky me~

As for this...

I have no explanation. Honestly, I'm running on three bottles of Pepsi and four hours of sleep right now, so it's most likely crap. That, and I wrote it in under an hour, so there's that as well.

I was listening to the "Save Rock and Roll" album by Fall Out Boy, and for some reason I couldn't get this image out of my head. I actually swung completely away from the image I had had, but I'm actually kind of okay with where this went. So I'm filing away the other for later...

If you don't know, this is Finland. Well... Kind of. I know I have a habit of ruining each of these guys in ways that no one should be allowed to do, but maybe that's jsut me.

Actually, in application to real life, one of my friends, very much like Tino surprisingly, recently died from an OD, so maybe that's also why this hit me.

I have no answers to whether Finland is dying or not. Seriously... As a nation I doubt he can, but who knows... At least the sensation's there, eh?

I also know that I'm drifting further from the "Reader-Insert" part a lot more recently. I'm still fond of writing it, and I have 63 more to go so don't fret yet, but I apologize that I don't make the interactions more in-depth.

I guess part of me just wants to have a little more realism and less romance? Or maybe that's just the preference of the asexual here~ I don't know.

I will edit this later, and I hope you enjoyed my random inspiration.

I own nothing here.


Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.
You belong to you.
"Save Rock and Roll" is technically Fall Out Boy's, but legality says others as well.
"Inferno" belongs to Dante.

And yeah. Have a good night and thanks for stopping by.
© 2014 - 2024 12bfeygirl42
Comments5
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theMirage-Prismatic's avatar
brilliant work. :iconimdeadplz: very intense. I prefer to think Finland went into a coma and the sensations of...emptiness came across very well. :iconilikeitplz: I felt his same confusion the detachment. good job! :)