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fellowshippers2005-12-03 08:37 am
geniusartist.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-12-03 08:37 am
Journal Keeping (2)
Title: Journal Keeping (2)
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: EW/DM
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst. Future parts will cover sensitive issues. Can't help it -- I've been working in the services field forever and have been affected much by people I've met and come across.
Summary: Elijah's therapist instructs him to keep a journal. Nightmares, train rides, a forgotten traumatic event and one Dominic Monaghan are the subjects of his entries.
8.27.04
I’m riding the Amtrak, on my way to the Grand Canyon. Spur of the moment decision.
I have this thing about riding trains. Used to do it with the family when I was younger. When we were still a complete unit. It wasn’t cheap with three kids -- hell, it wasn't cheap for just one full grown adult -- but it was my parents’ idea of get-away vacations. More to see than riding in a plane. And anyway, mom and dad always ended up fighting about directions and rest stops when we tried driving. And dad hated road trip games. Like swatting each other when we saw out-of-state licenses. I got a good whack for that one time when I smacked him on the back of the head at “KENTUCKY!!”.
I’ve never really gotten the whole I’m-so-famous-I-can-never-go-anywhere-be-a-normal-person thing. It’s a sure thing that most places I go these days, at least one person will recognize me. But I’m not Tom Cruise. (Thank God.) So maybe that’s why I can get away with it.
Still.
I think it’s all hogwash.
So, it’s first class. The only way to ride. It’s one of the perks of not worrying about money. The no smoking thing, well... My fingers itch every few seconds. But we stop for longer at central stations and I can indulge a cigarette or two.
When Dom came to live with me right after he moved to LA, we took Amtrak cross-country. We targeted the most obscure cities.
Texarcana, Arizona
Du Quoin, Illinois
Arkadelphia, Arkansas
Damariscotta, Maine
The more consonants and the harder to pronounce, the better.
It was strange, scary, comforting, surreal, but not, that city after city felt the same, though different. We got a lot of curious looks. Especially with Dom’s English accent. And there was the usual, like, these guys sorta look familiar. We were recognized fairly often, I’m sure. But no one bothered us in these places.
It was one little rustic diner after another. And small town motels with no “atmosphere”, just brown blankets and crisp white sheets. We always stayed where there was cable at least.
It was probably one of the best times of my life.
Funny, how train rides, car rides, plane rides, inspire conversation. The tell-all or the I’ve-never-told-anyone-or-at-least-not-many-people kind. Is it the constant motion that makes people spill secrets? Or is it just that there’s just bloody nothing else to do?
Nah, I think its the constant motion.
Or else it’s seeing trees, mountains, fields for miles on end and feeling connected.
Dom was the first one I told about the nightmares. Well... it didn’t come out so much as an “I feel like sharing” moment. One night, I think we were in Rennselaer, Indiana, I woke up to him shaking me against the bed. He looked freaked the fuck out. It’s funny when I think about it now. Not so funny then. Especially for Dom.
Anyway. He apologized for being so rough. He said I was thrashing and yelling and he tried calling my name to wake me. When I didn’t respond, he tried gently nudging me. That didn’t work either. And even with a little shaking by the shoulders I wouldn’t stop. So he had no choice, really.
He sat by me for a few minutes then went to fetch a glass of water. Poor Dom... He was so worried. He asked me, of course. You ok, Lij? Yeah. Nightmares. I told him. What about? That, I wouldn’t say, until months later.
We stayed up the rest of the night watching B-movies on the SciFi channel.
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: EW/DM
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst. Future parts will cover sensitive issues. Can't help it -- I've been working in the services field forever and have been affected much by people I've met and come across.
Summary: Elijah's therapist instructs him to keep a journal. Nightmares, train rides, a forgotten traumatic event and one Dominic Monaghan are the subjects of his entries.
8.27.04
I’m riding the Amtrak, on my way to the Grand Canyon. Spur of the moment decision.
I have this thing about riding trains. Used to do it with the family when I was younger. When we were still a complete unit. It wasn’t cheap with three kids -- hell, it wasn't cheap for just one full grown adult -- but it was my parents’ idea of get-away vacations. More to see than riding in a plane. And anyway, mom and dad always ended up fighting about directions and rest stops when we tried driving. And dad hated road trip games. Like swatting each other when we saw out-of-state licenses. I got a good whack for that one time when I smacked him on the back of the head at “KENTUCKY!!”.
I’ve never really gotten the whole I’m-so-famous-I-can-never-go-anywhere-be-a-normal-person thing. It’s a sure thing that most places I go these days, at least one person will recognize me. But I’m not Tom Cruise. (Thank God.) So maybe that’s why I can get away with it.
Still.
I think it’s all hogwash.
So, it’s first class. The only way to ride. It’s one of the perks of not worrying about money. The no smoking thing, well... My fingers itch every few seconds. But we stop for longer at central stations and I can indulge a cigarette or two.
When Dom came to live with me right after he moved to LA, we took Amtrak cross-country. We targeted the most obscure cities.
Texarcana, Arizona
Du Quoin, Illinois
Arkadelphia, Arkansas
Damariscotta, Maine
The more consonants and the harder to pronounce, the better.
It was strange, scary, comforting, surreal, but not, that city after city felt the same, though different. We got a lot of curious looks. Especially with Dom’s English accent. And there was the usual, like, these guys sorta look familiar. We were recognized fairly often, I’m sure. But no one bothered us in these places.
It was one little rustic diner after another. And small town motels with no “atmosphere”, just brown blankets and crisp white sheets. We always stayed where there was cable at least.
It was probably one of the best times of my life.
Funny, how train rides, car rides, plane rides, inspire conversation. The tell-all or the I’ve-never-told-anyone-or-at-least-not-many-people kind. Is it the constant motion that makes people spill secrets? Or is it just that there’s just bloody nothing else to do?
Nah, I think its the constant motion.
Or else it’s seeing trees, mountains, fields for miles on end and feeling connected.
Dom was the first one I told about the nightmares. Well... it didn’t come out so much as an “I feel like sharing” moment. One night, I think we were in Rennselaer, Indiana, I woke up to him shaking me against the bed. He looked freaked the fuck out. It’s funny when I think about it now. Not so funny then. Especially for Dom.
Anyway. He apologized for being so rough. He said I was thrashing and yelling and he tried calling my name to wake me. When I didn’t respond, he tried gently nudging me. That didn’t work either. And even with a little shaking by the shoulders I wouldn’t stop. So he had no choice, really.
He sat by me for a few minutes then went to fetch a glass of water. Poor Dom... He was so worried. He asked me, of course. You ok, Lij? Yeah. Nightmares. I told him. What about? That, I wouldn’t say, until months later.
We stayed up the rest of the night watching B-movies on the SciFi channel.
no subject
no subject