I'll Be Outside, Waiting For You

The boy huddled in the corner of his frosted glass cell, thinking. He knew he wanted her but she wasnt responding anymore. So the hope that someone would be able to drag him out of the shithole that he was stuck in for a long time would be yet again dissolved. Her constant optimism, behind the frosted glass, was blurred, so beautiful. But out of reach, and would almost never be his to hold, to cherish. He would be doomed to depression, and probably die of blood loss. Because he really felt that there was nothing to live for. True, he probably had a bright future: making money, marrying a woman, starting a family and so on and so forth, but the truth was it would be too mundane. No one would be able to be truly happy in a world that was overly screwed up with political conflicts and ideological clashes. Skirmishes and assasinations did not make things easier for his frazzled mind, either. The cell made things look even worse, as he could not understand the reason for such happenings; the glass making every connection hazy, indistinct.
He took out a long-forgotten acquaintance, undecided, not sure whether to meet his razor sharp friend again.
He couldnt see what else to do, or what to think.
He cries, in vain.



Oh i wrote that story in GP class today. cos i was inestimably bored. LOL.