In Between Life and Flesh pt. 2

I had to change the rating for the sake of the story. Sorry guys. Here's chapter 2 at any rate.

“Dude!” Dawson felt someone slap his cheek several times. The blows stung enough to rouse him from his semi-conscious state of mind.

Expecting a midget-like creature covered in slime with orange eyes, Dawson leaped up, barely aware of anything, swinging for the fences. His friend and roommate ducked every punch.

“Whoa, what gives? Hey man, what’s wrong with you?” Dawson blinked several times, realizing that the creature standing in front of him was too tall; the kid’s hair similar to that of a surfer punk, coiled in dreads, all blonde. Eyes of a cool, light and airy blue. Gritty stubble decorating both cheeks and jaw.

“Jesus, Das,” Mitch Ryans stepped back. “What was that?”

Dawson realized he was still naked. And his friend was staring at him. “I have no idea. Bad trip, I guess.”

“You fell out of the shower?”

“Yeah.” Dawson agreed. “Hit my head on the rack going down.”

“Dude,” Mitch repeated in awe. “You gotta be more careful, man. You could kill yourself like that.”

“Don’t you know it,” Dawson muttered as he left the bathroom, searching through the bedroom for fresh clothes. He found some left in his drawers, and was delighted to see that they matched for a change.

A few moments later, he was dressed, and planning on having a good Saturday. The kind where nothing got done, except for girls. Plenty of those were to be done on campus. And some of them were even challenges; the kind that were prudes from rich families. Dawson liked challenges.

He was halfway out the door when it hit. The Aftershock, he had dubbed it years ago, when the migraines had first started. He winced, and paused, putting a hand to his head, trying to wait it out, hoping, just hoping…

Forget it. He shut the door and proceeded to the small area that was the kitchen. There were four guys that lived in the house; all of them attending the University; two of them were juniors, and one other was a senior. Mitch was the only guy that wasn’t a junior or senior in the house; he clocked in as a sophomore. But regardless of age, they all dumped their stuff in the cabinets, making it hard to find anything in the kitchen.

Dawson went through the wooden cabinets, desperate. Aftershock wasn’t as bad as the migraines, but nevertheless, Aftershock was still no fun. Dawson needed one of his saviors.

There were numerous cabinets and drawers in the tiny kitchen, and none of them held the plastic bottles that Dawson was looking for. He spun around once, surveying the entire area, and dived towards the living room, tearing through the cheap couch and the scattering of chairs in the room, now hissing and fuming.

His hair got tangled around as he kept spinning around, frustrated. And then he noticed on the windowsill of the nearest window, a small bottle of orange. He sighed with relief and snatched it up.

Empty. Completely empty. Dawson knew then he had to have taken the last few during the previous night. He flung it towards the kitchen, in a rage. “Hey, Mitch!” He called after forcing himself to calm down a moment later. “Where’s my Vic-O at?”

“What are you-” Mitch popped his head around the corner, and then grinned as the meaning of Vic-O dawned on him. “Oh yeah; saw you put it away last night. I’ll go get it.”

Dawson promptly dropped onto one of the chairs. It was missing its padding after Dawson had ripped it away in his thorough search. He hardly noticed this amidst the agony that Aftershock was supplying him with. Here, get your free dose of the big A! So terrific it makes a hangover feel like a tickle…

Out of the corner of his eye, Dawson saw Mitch toss something to him. “Here, catch!” Mitch said it way too late. The plastic bottle struck Dawson on the top of his head. Dawson glared Mitch’s way.

“Sorry, man.” Mitch held up his hands in apology. “Sorry. Head’s hurtin’

bad today, huh?”

Dawson scooped up the bottle from the ground. Opened it, removed two pills, and dumped them down the hatch, swallowing them easily. He spoke as he put the top back on. “Every single day of my life.” He got up. “What are you thinking about doing today?”

“Me? No clue, man. We’ll see.” Mitch shrugged. “Any parties tonight?”

“Eh,” Dawson got up and moved towards the door, Mitch following him. “Not that I know of yet. I’ll call you if I find anything out.” He opened the door again, slower this time, as if waiting for Aftershock to come back.

It didn’t. Vic-O was doing its job, praised be Jeebus. Dawson felt slightly numb, but he felt great as well. “See you later.” He said to Mitch. Mitch returned the favor.