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Description
I knew that there was going to be some form of trouble. It started with the rain. The gentle pitter patter on the roof and walls. Gently splattering against the windows. Giving the situation a surprisingly surreal feeling to it. A rhythmic and soothing beat in contrast with the harsh bang and sudden silence within’ the room. In the end that fantastic contrast may have saved the little boy. Allowing his sanity to pass off the interaction as a piece of his imagination. Say ‘A figment of my imagination.’ Instead he would create an alternate reality in which they both died in honorable and desirable ways. Instead of being shot in the neck, or bleeding to death from a severe anal rip on the bathroom floor in the maximum security prison in Idaho. But for now he sat and shivered. The climate of the room had nothing to do with his uncontrolled shakes. No. Instead it was his growing and ooh-so rational fears that rocked his lissome body so harshly. After the initial boom of noise came the stain. A stain that was never thought to be removed. But as the dirty blonde sat, curled-up as tightly as possible, behind that couch, he watched the rancid stain grow and grow. Spreading to larger than the boy itself. Large enough to swallow him whole. Growing, and darkening. Originally a bright red, it mixed with the orange hues of the fabric and created a red so dark it seemed as though no light would every reach that growing abyss. And as the absorbency gave it’s all several, almost obnoxiously perfect, beads of red escaped the growing obscurity. That’s it.. he’d just escape. Push until freed. And still the light and irregular hum of rain drops kept a steady pace. Lightening the air. Draining the humidity that earlier seemed as though it would suffocate the boy, just as mommy was suffocating. Unable to take it anymore she fought. With a will and little else she stormed. Screamed, and shouted. But alas.. drugs can consume one’s body. And so the father reacted. And the boy hid. Hid from the horrors. Hid from the truth. Hid for is sanity. And it was then when the ran began. It was then that I came. Though not alone, for what lurked above me was unknown. But I came. My fears started with the rain. A new life started with the rain. A new journey to a place beyond ourselves started with the rain. And a little boy with dirty blonde hair was forced to create a new life.

Description
I knew that there was going to be some form of trouble. It started with the rain. The gentle pitter patter on the roof and walls. Gently splattering against the windows. Giving the situation a surprisingly surreal feeling to it. A rhythmic and soothing beat in contrast with the harsh bang and sudden silence within’ the room. In the end that fantastic contrast may have saved the little boy. Allowing his sanity to pass off the interaction as a piece of his imagination. Say ‘A figment of my imagination.’ Instead he would create an alternate reality in which they both died in honorable and desirable ways. Instead of being shot in the neck, or bleeding to death from a severe anal rip on the bathroom floor in the maximum security prison in Idaho. But for now he sat and shivered. The climate of the room had nothing to do with his uncontrolled shakes. No. Instead it was his growing and ooh-so rational fears that rocked his lissome body so harshly. After the initial boom of noise came the stain. A stain that was never thought to be removed. But as the dirty blonde sat, curled-up as tightly as possible, behind that couch, he watched the rancid stain grow and grow. Spreading to larger than the boy itself. Large enough to swallow him whole. Growing, and darkening. Originally a bright red, it mixed with the orange hues of the fabric and created a red so dark it seemed as though no light would every reach that growing abyss. And as the absorbency gave it’s all several, almost obnoxiously perfect, beads of red escaped the growing obscurity. That’s it.. he’d just escape. Push until freed. And still the light and irregular hum of rain drops kept a steady pace. Lightening the air. Draining the humidity that earlier seemed as though it would suffocate the boy, just as mommy was suffocating. Unable to take it anymore she fought. With a will and little else she stormed. Screamed, and shouted. But alas.. drugs can consume one’s body. And so the father reacted. And the boy hid. Hid from the horrors. Hid from the truth. Hid for is sanity. And it was then when the ran began. It was then that I came. Though not alone, for what lurked above me was unknown. But I came. My fears started with the rain. A new life started with the rain. A new journey to a place beyond ourselves started with the rain. And a little boy with dirty blonde hair was forced to create a new life.