Status: keeping this alive!
Dreams Only Last for a Night
Chapter One
Jack woke up with start, breaking into cold sweat as his eyes greeted with the darkness of his bedroom. He glanced over to his alarm clock, which glared at him with its numbers in red, 03:27.
He sighed, clutching his sheets as he wrapped himself in it. It was the second time he woke up tonight. The stupid pills, once again, didn't work on him. Jack felt his back strained as he turned onto his side on his single bed. Oh what fun it is to be 67, huh? Jack grumbled as he got up from his bed.
Each step he took were slow and deliberate, as he made his way down to the kitchen. The floor creaked, echoing in through the entire house. He didn't care if his children or his grandchildren could hear, since he was too worn out to be walking silently.
He navigated his way through, using the sense of touch, since his eyesight worsened over the couple of decades. He bumped into a chair, causing it to drag loudly and Jack to curse under his breath.
Jack stepped into the kitchen and switched on the lights. The light blinded his eyes for a moment and takes him a while to adjust. He reached out for his medicine in the drawer, and retrieved a glass of water to drink it all down.
He hated forcing tablets down his throat, Jack was ready to puke it back out, but restrained himself. He leaned against the counter, biting his lip as he felt a stung on his lower back. Jack wasn't young anymore, he is 67 years old, he lived his life.
He stared down on his hands, reflecting harshly against the white light. His hands were calloused from all the years he played guitar. Jack missed the times, but it was in the past, now. He had a wife, a family, and now, even grandchildren.
Still he missed his band.
How they used to tour around the world, save lives with their music, meet different people. Jack wondered about the other members if they were still around. He lost contact with them after a while, and never really thought about it.
He sets down his empty glass, sighing.
What was in the past, is in the past for Jack Barakat, the unfortunate reality he had to face. He had other things to worry about, Jack thought as he switched off the lights and headed back to his bedroom.
As he got up the stairs, he noticed a decorative mirror hung at the end of the hall. Jack curiously stepped towards it, observing the wrinkles on his face, illuminated by the moonlight. He traced his fingertip along the bridge of his nose. As his finger lifted away, he didn't see the old and tired Jack Barakat. He saw himself when he was 25, youthful and reckless, as marked from his skunk hair.
The younger Jack smiled back at his elder self, before mouthing something.
"I love you too Gaskarth."
He sighed, clutching his sheets as he wrapped himself in it. It was the second time he woke up tonight. The stupid pills, once again, didn't work on him. Jack felt his back strained as he turned onto his side on his single bed. Oh what fun it is to be 67, huh? Jack grumbled as he got up from his bed.
Each step he took were slow and deliberate, as he made his way down to the kitchen. The floor creaked, echoing in through the entire house. He didn't care if his children or his grandchildren could hear, since he was too worn out to be walking silently.
He navigated his way through, using the sense of touch, since his eyesight worsened over the couple of decades. He bumped into a chair, causing it to drag loudly and Jack to curse under his breath.
Jack stepped into the kitchen and switched on the lights. The light blinded his eyes for a moment and takes him a while to adjust. He reached out for his medicine in the drawer, and retrieved a glass of water to drink it all down.
He hated forcing tablets down his throat, Jack was ready to puke it back out, but restrained himself. He leaned against the counter, biting his lip as he felt a stung on his lower back. Jack wasn't young anymore, he is 67 years old, he lived his life.
He stared down on his hands, reflecting harshly against the white light. His hands were calloused from all the years he played guitar. Jack missed the times, but it was in the past, now. He had a wife, a family, and now, even grandchildren.
Still he missed his band.
How they used to tour around the world, save lives with their music, meet different people. Jack wondered about the other members if they were still around. He lost contact with them after a while, and never really thought about it.
He sets down his empty glass, sighing.
What was in the past, is in the past for Jack Barakat, the unfortunate reality he had to face. He had other things to worry about, Jack thought as he switched off the lights and headed back to his bedroom.
As he got up the stairs, he noticed a decorative mirror hung at the end of the hall. Jack curiously stepped towards it, observing the wrinkles on his face, illuminated by the moonlight. He traced his fingertip along the bridge of his nose. As his finger lifted away, he didn't see the old and tired Jack Barakat. He saw himself when he was 25, youthful and reckless, as marked from his skunk hair.
The younger Jack smiled back at his elder self, before mouthing something.
"I love you too Gaskarth."
♠ ♠ ♠
wow that is my first chapter of this series, I hope you guys would like it!