When Shawn came back into consciousness from practicing, he had no idea what time it was. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea, to some extent, who he was. It was emerging from a deep sleep in a sudden and abrupt manner. It took more than a few seconds to realize that he was exactly where he was.

In front of the mirror.

The Puppet was on his right knee, Shawn's own hand fixed and rigid up into Mr. Clayton's back. It smelled in the room. It smelled stuffy, sweaty and unclean. Like a homeless person had been sleeping inside Shawn's room without taking a bath or a shower for quite some time.

Suddenly, before Shawn could fully gather his bearings, the door to his room opened, bringing with it a breath of fresh air that wiped a lot of that stagnant air away.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 09:57, Fri 25 Oct 2019.