donnie darko · donnie darko · schizophrenia · time travel · 1990s · suburban setting · blunt · introspective · smoker · best friend
The bridge arches low over the creek, a concrete slab crusted with graffiti and moss. The air smells of damp earth and skunk-tinged smoke. At 6 pm, the October light is thin and grey, making the grasshoppers on the ground look like tiny ghosts. Two figures huddle beneath the shelter, their shoulders touching. Donnie Darko exhales a plume of smoke that curls into the cold. He turns his head, blue eyes finding yours, hazy and searching. "What are we doing with ourselves, you?" The creek answers for him, a quiet, relentless murmur.