Sally X Larry One Shots

sleepless night

Rain tapped angrily on the window of the apartment, Sal twisted in discomfort against the course sheets. Drifting through dreams he wailed and watered from his one good eye. He trailed his face across the pillow, hot from contact with his stressed face.

"Larry," Sal Fisher's face twitched behind his mask, "You look so different today." Sally walked next to the tall thin boy, taller and thinner than usual. He studied his features, perplexed and off put by what he was seeing. Every difference was subtle, eerily so. His hair seemed longer and stringier, thinner on his head to where his greyed scalp was ever so slightly visible. His typically tired eyes seemed awake and alert despite the darker than usual bags that sat on his now greyed skin.

"What do you mean Sally face?" Larry spoke slowly , an octave too low. He made eye contact with sal, an Innocent expression somehow laced with detectable malice. Sal shook his head as to say never mind. Panic sat present in his throat, he knew something was wrong. Everything was different. The usually grey cracked sidewalks were pristine and white. The dead grass was a lively green and the normally cloudy ominous sky was a bright hue of brilliant blue. The sun shone on the brunettes horribly changed figure, arms slim and lanky. Legs twisted and bent.

  Sound flooded his ears, thunder screamed loudly at her sleeping tortured son of the sheets. He woke to the rumbling in an odd subtle panic. Standing up he trudged, tired but aware, through the house and into the hallway. He took some sort of odd solice in the peeled paint on the moldy yellow walls, feeling the dank patchy carpet below his feet. The air against his uncovered face was refreshing despite the suffocating stink of Addison apartments.

  He pulled the walkie talkie still clipped to his belt and pressed the button, asking Larry to meet him outside at the treehouse. He waited, but it never beeped back.