As the boy looks out the window, seeing his town, his life, his only rememberence of life. Bombs falling, the rain pooring down against the window. The streets filled with blood. As he stairs at the soldiers fighting and dieing, he sees the truth. He was never made, he was never alive, he was dead. Seeing planes pass his room, his room perched upon a clock tower, so that he may live next to time. Counting the seconds of his existence, but he never had a perpose, so he made his own. His perpose to cause war, to cause people to bleed on the inside. The fact he never existed, but was only a thought, an idea. He lived for what.... And as he sees the chaos upon his love. He lays a hand upon his love, but has he dose it shatters before him. And as the glass breaks, he sees it, he sees his life pass. And he walks out the window. He walks out into nothing, but a reclips of lives. And as he walks the glass breaks more and more, shattering before him. Let it all break, let the Window Break. |
Submission Name: Window Break
