<b>7:21pm</b><br/><br/>An aroma most foul lingered in the air, the smell of dried blood and decaying flesh, screams of agony echoed all around as sad whispers begged for release from the bonds that tormented so. Damian merely stared at a metal roof above him, unmoving to the sounds around him, ignoring the scents that filled his nostrils, he sat alone his head resting on cold metal. Those cursed smells and maddening cries how they tormented him no matter hard he tried to forget they always crept into mind, they haunted his dreams and twisted inside his darkest nightmares.<br/>The people around him seemed to care little to what was happening, why should they? This was nothing more than the scars of the past. Memories, no matter how vivid, that simply belonged to him alone.<br/><br/>Damian blinked twice trying to keep sleep's embrace for another day longer, his eyes shifted around again to observe his surroundings. It was a bus. He was on a bus heading to his apartment but which bus? It had been three days since he last slept, three days spent walking about trying to piece together what he was going to do with the wreckage that was his life. He couldn't keep going on looking into every shadow expecting an attack... yet on the other hand he couldn't ever lower his guard in fear of being taken back to...<br/><br/>The whispers on the bus drew his attention, in all likelihood the passengers around him felt... uncomfortable not only that, Damian felt something deep in his heart. Fear. The young man raised his head so that he could look at the front of the bus. Several of the passengers had been looking in his direction before quickly avoiding eye contact.<br/>"Is everything alright Mr. Bennett?" Came a voice from the driver's seat, it was a deep and somewhat raspy voice that belonged to Paul Ferguson, the regular driver of this shift. Ferguson knew of Damian's fragile state, physically and mentally after all Damian had several times fallen asleep on the bus and caused complications. When it occurred a third time on Ferguson's shift, Damian with the help of his supervisor had to explain the circumstances. Needless to say they came to a mutual understanding.<br/><br/>Damian shook his head to keep the cobwebs at bay again, "I'm alright sir, I'll get off at the next stop, I think it's best that I-" He grabbed his backpack and his skateboard, "Walk the rest of the way, some fresh air should do me good."<br/><br/>"Some more sleep would do you better, if you don't mind me saying."<br/><br/>"Probably. But that would be inviting my demons over. I'd rather prolong their arrival for just a bit longer." Even as he spoke some of the passengers showed their unease, with a sigh Damian got up and walked to the front of the bus as it near a stop. "I hope I didn't cause to much of a scene, Sir."<br/><br/>"Nothing loud, just that thousand mile stare again, looked like you had gone to mars and beyond. I don't think you're aware of how dead you look with that gaze." The driver whisper to him as the doors opened.<br/><br/>"You don't know how close you are to the truth. Have a good night, Sir, and have a safe shift."<br/><br/>The air was cool, as it lightly crushed against his face, the sounds of people heading home, off perhaps to meet friend or family. Few people paid too much attention to him, they'd likely see him as just another punk that was to be avoided. It was a perfect guise for him, none would second a look at him, none would remember his weary face and none would bother him.<br/>The streets around him were bright and a head of him was the local park yet dark shadows stretched out to him, almost as if they longed for his return. The smell of decay filled his senses once more, the pang of fear tugged at his heart. Was he being followed? Damian lifted his right arm to clench his forehead, his mind swarmed with the memories he once believed where nothing more than his way of coping with trauma, the screams, their cries of release, their begging... the longing....<br/>"Shut it out, keep it out." Damian whispered to himself as he pushed his way through the crowds, "Keep them away, hide them away." He had to move away from the people, if he was being followed then he had to keep the monsters far from the innocent. The park's darkness would aid him, poor management and care had let the park fall into disarray, there were few working lights, trees and bushes that grew out of control hiding away the paths. That's where he'd lure the monster. And if it was just a memory, just another figment of his imagination, then he'd merely have to trek through the darkness back to his home.<br/><br/>With his mind now set, Damian moved towards the park.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>