missanthrope
I suppose I should have seen it coming, all of this, but really it was kind of a shock,I don't know why it was, but it was. The fact that here I was doing the exact same thing as I always did truly did come as a shock to me but upon further reflection I realized I had known all along that it would come to this. So, subconsciously, I knew that I was going to become this way. I suppose I should have done something to stop it, but THAT would have been against everything I was up until that point.
I was expecting something else from that. What I don't know it just wasn't what I expected, what I wanted. I figured there'd be something more, there's always something more. But I guess there's an exception to that. There wasn't more this time. All there was now was disappointment, and let me tell you I was not expecting that.
The train station was full but it mattered not. I couldn't hear the din of the others over the music blaring in my ears, it was always present it seemed, the music, that was probably because I couldn't leave home with out it, without something to mask the horrible noises of the world around me. Because when you tune that out you can see the world as a beautiful place, it's all about what you select.
"Remember remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot, I see no reason that the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot" the words went through my mind, the meter of the poem flowing nicely. Guy Fawkes, an interesting guy, and V for Vendetta, and interesting film, both had peaked my interest even at the young age of thirteen.
Pretzels. He was sick of them, making them every day would do that to someone. He worked for Auntie Anne's pretzels, he saw so many people every day and he looked down on them as they frivolously spent money as he worked so hard to get it. It was a problem for him this job. He was only sixteen but he already felt annoyed and overworked.
She was far from a domestic, but she found herself cleaning, cooking and taking the kids to and from soccer practice. Is this really what I want? She'd ask herself almost daily and always the answer was no. She couldn't stand the life she had built for herself. But what else could she do, especially now that the kids relied on her. But if she kept doing this she'd go positively postal.
She felt like a wasteland. Like a big emotionless wasteland. That was the way that he made her feel. And it was awful. She hated feeling like that. She absolutely hated it. She wanted to feel loved by him. She deserved to be loved. He owed her that much.
"Whoa! Your happy glow, it's blinding." he said.
"I am not glowing. Now shut it." she said to him as her cheeks began to flood with colour.
"You sure about that?" he asked.
"Yes, I am entirely sure that I am not glowing." she said shooting him a glare before walking away.
You could see all of her bones, she was so thin. She hadn't really eaten in days. She had lost seventeen pounds in three weeks. It was due to the stress of all of it. He thought he had it hard, he had no idea, he might have been the one that was dying but he wasn't the one that looked like it. She was all bone by now, she was losing weight that she couldn't really afford to lose in the first place.
He lined up the console. Ready to kick some zombie ass. It was a nice way to spend the night. First mindlessly killing zombies then later switching to go on an epic kill streak, it was the only thing he did anymore. He sat in the cold dark basement, the plasma screen brightly glowing from its place on the wall. And he didn't think at all.
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