He didn’t know what to do. The crowd of people just passing him by. The hallway felt so filled and yet so empty. He was completely numb on the inside and possibly, the outside too.

The shoves, the bumps, the punches, they all felt like nothing to him. Being harassed everyday did that to some people. Aside from the physical and mental torture, he felt alone. All of his friends, or who he thought were his friends, have been long withdrawing from him. There was a possibility in his mind that they never really thought of him as a friend.

He sighed as he reached the exit, finally separating himself from the establishment that broke him. He was relieved of the hurt and he liked it, even if it was only going to be for the rest of the day. Tomorrow was going to bring him back to that place.He trudged along the concrete sidewalk with his head hung low and his eyes blank of any emotion.

The house where he lived was coming closer and closer. He let out another sigh as he opened the door and walked in. His parents were always at work and his sister was never home. The bleak pale walls were all he had as company. His room was just as bland. He sat on his bed as he stared at his feet. A small shiny object played between his finger. Anyone could easily identify what it was. He held it at a predictable position, ready to do what was expected.

And there it went…

It dropped on the carpet floor without a sound. He just sat there, unsure of what to do next. His body unharmed, but his spirit shattered. He knew he couldn’t do that unspeakable act. He couldn’t do that to himself for one reason…


Who would find the body?



**Well, that was a bit dark and full of angst. I have no idea why my muse came up with that, but at least it got my negative energy out. Another reason to love writing because you are free to feel what ever you wish.





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