sparks of boredom.— [watson/rory]

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sparks of boredom.— [watson/rory] Sept 13, 2021 6:45:58 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2021 6:45:58 GMT -5

Being sick is about the worst thing in the whole world! I absolutely hate being sick! I'd rather be grounded forever than be sick! Because when I'm grounded, I can still do stuff. I can run around my room or jump on the bed or do active stuff to stop the boredom. But when I'm sick? I can't do anything but lay in bed.

I don't get sick very often, but when I do I get real sick. Like I can barely get out of bed, let alone do everything I normally like to do sick. And talking? My voice sounds like I'm a 90-year old who needs to take a nap when I get sick. Yet, my boredom and constant energy don't go away. So I just feel trapped, I hate it so much!

Whenever I get all of that energy stored up, it makes me feel weird. An emotion I can't quite describe. Almost like I'm nervous, but I'm not sure what about. And I don't know why having all of that energy makes me nervous. I'm not really a nervous person, y'know? I just know everything will work out for me because it always does! But, I just feel uncertain sometimes.

Anyway, I was sick. And not only that, I was sick on a Saturday morning! That's the worst time to be sick! Because if you're sick on a Friday you don't miss much because teachers never do anything on Friday. And on Monday you don't learn anything because you're so tired from the weekend as it is. Sunday you just have to do all of your homework you didn't do throughout the week. But Saturday? That's the day where you get to do stuff!

After I wasn't up by about 11:00 am my parents came in to check on me. And immediately they could tell by looking at me that I was sick. I was a whole lot whiter than normal, my head feels warm, and I have these dark bags under my eyes that I never get. Plus, I feel like shit in general. They told me to stay in bed so I can recover faster.

While I know I should listen to them and it's hard to even stand without my legs feeling like they're giving up, that nervous feeling started being a little too much for me to handle. I had to get up and do something. I just couldn't sit still anymore, it was driving me mad. As soon as I got out from under the blankets, I was frozen. It reminded me of that time some bigger kids threw me into the snow bank in the middle of winter because they thought it'd be funny.

So I wrapped my blanket around me and felt as though my legs were ready to collapse out from under me at any moment. I decided to go to Rory's room. They never had much going on anyway and they didn't have as much of an attitude as some of my other older siblings did. I slowly made my way to their room and knocked as hard as I could, which right now wasn't very hard. But, whenever I knocked, I did it in a pattern. Almost like a little song! I hoped they weren't so lost in building or fixing something that they couldn't hear me knock. I tried to call out to them, but my voice was so hoarse I doubted it would make a difference.

"Rory!"

kap
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goomy goomy on the brain

sparks of boredom.— [watson/rory] Sept 14, 2021 10:15:39 GMT -5

Post by kap on Sept 14, 2021 10:15:39 GMT -5

"You are not alone
I've been here the whole time
singing you a song"

~

When I was younger, I spent quite a bit more time outside than I do now.

I spend a lot of time in my bedroom, now, sitting at my desk and working on building, rebuilding and inventing whatever I can think of. It's what I really enjoy doing, so it definitely isn't unusual to find me there.

So, of course, today I was in my room, tinkering with a small contraption I'd been working on. It was a little wind-up toy that I'd taken apart and started to piece back together after I'd repainted it and cleaned it up a bit. I had also messed with the mechanics of it a little bit, which were rather simple, so it wasn't too tough to make it work more smoothly.

Now, I just had to finish putting it back together. It wasn't long before I heard knocking at my door: Watson's knocking. He has this way of doing so that would let me know it was him before he even announced his presence.

"Rory!" his voice was weak but I could hear it slightly as it sounded through my closed door.

"Be right there!" I call back as stand up from my desk. The fact that he was home from school and his voice sounding weak makes me assume that he must be sick, but I'm not afraid of getting sick, as long as it wasn't anything too serious. Plus, he probably just had a cold. Our parents would've made him see a doctor if it was anything serious.

I go over to the door and open it to see my youngest brother. I hope he won't see what I was working on at my desk. The wind-up toy is supposed to be a gift for him later, once I get it fixed up. It's just a little metal trinket, but I thought it would be nice for him to have and that he might appreciate it. I just don't want the gift to be spoiled for him. If he asked about it, I'd just have to avoid telling him who I was working on it for. I hate lying, but I also hate spoiling surprises.

"Hey Watts," I say to him. "What's up? You doing okay?"

I want to make sure it's nothing urgent, which is why I tried to come to the door as quickly as I could. I still have a small screwdriver in my hand when I open the door, fidgeting with it as I talk to my brother. I don't normally fidget with things unless I'm nervous about something, so I suppose, in the back of my mind, I'm worrying about what he needs, even if I know that it's likely not anything too serious.

I hate my anxieties. They seem to take over my life sometimes, and it makes things difficult. I suppose that's part of why I hide away in my room messing with stuff so often. It gives me something else to think about and focus on. It keeps my mind busy, and when my mind is so busy, it's harder for it to be so nervous. As soon as that sense of peace in my mind is interrupted, though, it usually comes right back. I suppose that's why I'm deemed the quiet one. I'm too nervous to talk to people outside of my family most of the time, and sometimes even within my family.

Watson gives me the courage to talk, though. I suppose that's just what his unmatched amount of energy does. It gets me to want to actually join in on the conversation. He's got this wonderful aura about him, and honestly, it really makes me happy.

I give him a smile while I look at him standing at the door just to make sure he knows that I care.

-----

lyrics: "Carry You" by Ruelle ft. Fleurie

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sparks of boredom.— [watson/rory] Sept 15, 2021 0:52:04 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2021 0:52:04 GMT -5

In a weird way, being called Watts made me feel a little better. I wasn't sure why I found the nickname so comforting. Maybe it reminds me of the first time we learned about electricity in school and I misheard Watts as Watson and kept calling them Watsons. When the nickname started, I didn't even realise it was a pun based off of electricity! And maybe the familiarity of it was nice too. It was just something soothing, something that made me feel cared about. Maybe it's silly, but I can be a little silly sometimes!

By this point, I've gotten used to Rory. They're a little odd sometimes. They get all nervous and fidgety. I mean I'm fidgety too sometimes but it's different. They're trying to be fidgety, trying to forget the world. And with me? The world just evaporates around me as I start playing and fidgeting without even noticing. It can be really annoying and it makes it hard to focus in class sometimes because I get so zoned out.

I also noticed they had a screwdriver. As I expected, they were working on something! I was curious what it was, but I had to answer their questions before asking my own. Plus, my voice still hurt. For once no matter how much I wanted to talk, I didn't feel like I could. So I was trapped with my voice screaming inside my head, desperate to get out. My thoughts swarming my mind like a beehive, each bee having unique thoughts pounding at the walls of the hive.

"I'm sick, Rory! And Mom keeps telling to lay down and if I'm up running around I won't get better. And she keeps coming in to take my temperature and I hate it when she takes my temperature. I know she wants to make sure I don't have to go to the doctor, but I hate it. I have to just sit still and not talk or nothing!"

In one long breath, I said the majority of what I wanted. The bees were at least a little pleased with that as I felt my mind slowly calm itself. I remembered what the counselor at school told me. When my brain starts going too fast, I should just focus on my senses to ground myself back to reality. And now? Now it was a good distraction from how sick I was feeling.

"But mom said she wouldn't have to take my temperature for another half hour. And I'm bored! I feel too sick to get up and do anything, but laying in bed is driving me crazy. Can I hang out with you in here, please!? As long as I get back to my room in time, mom won't know!"

Maybe my voice got a little whiny mixed in with the hoarseness. But, I felt like I was entitled to whine! I'm sick and I can't run around or play games or even go outside to take pictures! Plus, I'm the youngest child. Aren't we supposed to be able to whine? Some say fourteen is too old to be a whiner, I say I can do what I want. And sometimes? Sometimes I wanna whine! Plus, with Rory whining and looking sad was an easy way to get what I wanted. So I made sure to look extra sad when I asked them if I could hang out.