Chris felt sick. The kind of sick where all you can do is just sit there and feel it.
He was sat in his hotel room, flicking through the TV channels, everything looking strange and surreal. He got up and went into his bag, pushing clothes out of the way to get to his diary. He pulled it out and let the front cover flap open. He could feel the tears coming and he closed it.
An odd feeling started to come from his chest, like his heart was breathing in and sucking the room into his body. He staggered and reached for the wall. His eyes grew wide as he saw his hands had become enlarged. Holding them out infront of him, trying to balance on his feet, everything seemed to get further away and his arms grew longer, yet smaller.
The next thing Chris knew, a wave of burning hot sick was barrelling up his throat and spraying into the toilet like a geyser.
It was time to pull together.
* * *
Summer reached the grocery store, her mind in the clouds. She pushed through the flimsy door and noticed immediately that Ralph and his friends were inside. Groaning inside, she quickly turned right down an aisle to avoid being seen and went to the back of the store. She picked up a basket from a nearby pile and began getting everything. Milk, bread, orange juice, some tinned soups, bread and as her Mother had loudly reminded her, some cookies for Matthew.
Unfortunately, taking her time to collect all these items didn't seem to have been enough time for Dean to leave. He was seemingly still goading the shopkeeper into letting him buy some whiskey and tobacco. The manly, aggressive laughs and jeers put Summer on edge as she moved towards the counter.
Dean noticed her and quickly tried to mask his enjoyment at taunting the man behind the counter by dropping his expression and raising his eyebrows.
"Hey Summer, how're you doing babe?" He oozed, with as much charm as he could muster.
"I'm fine thank you," Summer replied in a non-commital kind of way, not looking, as she emptied her basket.
"Y'know, a lot of people around the neighbourhood seem to think you're quite a..well, a bit of a CT if you know what I mean.." He said casually, leaning against the counter. A few of his burly friends snickered.
"People can think what they what to think Dean. It doesn't bother me in the slightest." Summer shot back, handing over 10 dollars, still refusing to give him any eye contact.
"Oh yeah but y'know I personally think it's err..y'know, a bit offensive..you're much err, better than that I think." He turned back to his buddies and smirked, giving them a sly wink.
"Well that's a nice thought Dean, but it doesn't bother me, really. Have a nice day." Summer said with a quick smile, turning to leave with her bag of groceries.
Dean leapt foward and held the door open for her, turning back once again and flashing his friends the 'A-Ok' sign in such a sleazy manner, the shopkeeper turned away and muttered angrily.
Following her outside, entourage in tow, he stepped infront of her.
"Now some people might think tha of you, but er..well I think I can help you out there," he smirked this time to her face and ran his hand down her thigh.
She smacked it off angrily and his posse exploded with laughter, eliciting dramatic 'Ooooohhh's and turning around in disbelief. Dean looked angry, this time his face became unnaturally ugly.
"Listen b*tch, you've turned me down one too many times, you think you can keep on making me look a fool huh?!" He spat, lunging fowards and pulling her in for a kiss.
She screamed and started to struggle, he was inches away from her lips. With one swift motion she pulled her leg up as hard as she could and brought her knee right into his crotch. He screamed louder than she had, and his friends came in to help. Dean shoved her off hard and she fell to the ground with a cry.
As she looked up, Dean was suddenly bending over in agony infront of her, then being tackled to the ground. A figure then dived over to Dean's thugs, who were trying to mug Summer, and threw about 10 punchs in all directions, headbutting the biggest and pushing the dazed over.
Summer got up, grabbed her grocery bag which was thankfully intact and ran down the street away from from the store, heart pounding.
She turned around, still running and noticed it was the man who had attacked everyone. She slowed to a jog and noticed he was holding her purse. With a jolt she felt her back pocket and a wave of shame washed over her. How could she have been so careless?
The figure got closer, and as she looked past him, it seemed Dean and his associates were staggering back in the opposite direction. She stopped. The figure approached, out of breath and bleeding, before coming to a stop and taking a breather. He simply held out her purse and she accepted, brushing her hair back self-consciously.
He stood up, wiping the trickle of blood from his forehead and apologised.
"I'm sorry, I just..I don't know what came over me, I shouldn't have interfered." He gasped, still taking deep breaths.
"No it's...fine, it's fine, I shouldn't have been so stupid, my fault really. Thank you." She answered, feeling embarassed and slightly awkward.
He was wearing a brown jacket, white t-shirt and blue jeans. He wore them quite well and his face was partly covered with light blonde, shoulder length hair that had half fallen out of a ponytail. He held out his hand, squinting in the afternoon sunlight.
"My err....my name's Chris."