Chapter Text
Peace. All Omar needed right in that moment was peace. He needed a way to stop all the chaos occurring in and outside of his mind. There was only one… well… two ways he could think of doing that. Play his guitar, or go on a walk. He’d already been practicing guitar so hard all evening his fingers felt numb, so he went with the ladder option.
He sat up from his bed and looked himself right in the mirror. He was shirtless, bare chest except for a chain necklace that sparkled when the setting sun hit it. He felt pretty at that moment. Messy hair and tired eyes aside. This feeling was enough to make him smile a bit.
He quickly put on a random shirt from his floor along with his denim jacket complete with a Puerto-Rican flag patch on one side. He was ready to go.
In his tiny one floor home, the door was only a few steps from his room, so he was out and into the warm El Paso air in no time. He gazed back at his house, and it was then he realized what a useless existence he was living. He didn’t need to dwell on that too much, however. He already had enough on his mind. Like his guitar practice and college coursework and the fact he was the only guy in his friend group that didn’t have a girlfriend. He pushed his sliding glasses up and kept walking.
The sun was setting. It cast an orange hue over the sky, little swirls of pink making its way through like a watercolour painting. Eventually the sky got darker and darker until it was completely dark. Besides a few stars.
When Omar looked up at the stars, heliked to imagine they were a sign of hope for him. So that night, he paused his walking in the middle of an empty field and started to pray.
“Whoever lives up there…please…give me something, someone, anything to make me feel like waking up isn’t pointless”.
As soon as Omar finished uttering his prayer into the night, he heard something. Bustling coming from the bushes behind him. He cocked his head instinctively, and the sound stopped.
Throughout his walk back, Omar swore he could hear more movement following him. Yet every time he tried to see what it was? Nothing.
Maybe he was just tired, or maybe all the weed he smoked was really getting to his head. Either way, he let those thoughts rest as his body did. Sinking into his mattress, he felt overtaken by sleep. The only true peace.
Until… he found himself having an unusual dream.
Omar didn’t remember much of it, but what he did remember freaked him out. He was in a dark room, his arms and legs restrained, and he felt a cold hand on his shoulder. Despite it being a dream, the hand felt very real.
Then he saw fangs somehow illuminating the darkness.
There was lots of blood.
Then there was the pain in his neck.
He woke up straight after that.
Omar hurried as fast as he could to check himself in the mirror. He closely examined his neck. No mark, no blood, no anything.
The whole ordeal left Omar spiraling for the rest of the night. Wondering why in the fresh hell all of it felt so real. A part of Omar was convinced the sounds following him had to do with it, but his more rational side tried to reassure himself that he was just paranoid.
Paranoid was certainly a way to put it.