This story was written May 29, 2021.
Warnings for this story: feelings of numbness
Read at your own risk
Enjoy
~In The End Of The World
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He knew grey.
He knew grey very well.
He knew the feeling of everything blurring together to the point where nothing truly mattered, because what would change? What would be different?
Nothing.
He hated grey.
But he hated charcoal more.
It was the feeling of grey, of the subdued tones, of the absolute nothingness.
But he could feel the agony he was in.
It was awful.
He could feel his muscles screaming at him to stop, begging him to rest and let them not be in pain. He could feel his body twitching and trembling, unreleased tension and energy coupled with exhaustion being used as a message to him from his body, and his body was begging to sleep.
He didn't want to sleep.
So he let the charcoal keep going.
He let himself feel the pain.
He let himself writhe and tremble.
He let himself break down and fall apart.
But it was hidden under his mask of apathy.
The grey was back.
But it was darker.
And it hurt.
But it didn't hurt anymore.
Because it was charcoal.
YOU ARE READING
In The End, Do I Deserve It? I Do
Short StoryA collection of short vent stories I have created. I will preface each story with warnings, as there is graphic content sometimes featured. I hope you can enjoy.
