The Prince

*Warning:!This chapter is not edited. This is a rough draft, it has grammar mistakes.*

　So I had this idea for a really long time, and once before I tried to write it, but I wasn't happy with it . This is the better, new improved version and I hope you like it. I know I enjoyed writing it. I know exactly ( more or less) where the story is going to go so I can't wait :). Thanks for reading.

Today my life will end, the delicate nature that has structured and founded my dreams has been shattered, blowed away by the cold harsh wind that torments me. This was the reason that was motivating me to never open my eyes again, the wind has swept away my dreams. Like a bird with no wings, I was trapped in myself, by myself. My freedom had been taken cruelly away from me, leaving only an empty thing that could never feel again.I wish I would never feel the need to wake up, to be bothered by others and be forced to limit myself as a person that I never could be. I wonder sometimes, if I didn't wake up, would anyone truly care? Would anyone try to help me? Ive been alone for as long as I could remember, with an absent father and a uncaring mother, so there is no doubt that I am truly alone. They've ruined all misconceptions that Ive ever had the tragedy in believing in.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and blinked, sheliding them from the light that was streaming through my open window. How ironic it is that the day I would lose everthing, a miracle would appear and London would experience some good weather. As always, my room was impecably clean, resembling nothing like a nomal male teenagers room would. There was no underwear on the floor, no dirty magazines or any signs of inhabitance, really.The pain as alway was unbearable, but i couldn't help the thought that this pain somehow felt different. Worse in a sense. I sighed and raked my hands through my dull raven locks. Ive gone through the pain for a year now, and it seems to be getting worse. It seems like every day closer to my seventeenth birthday, the pain grows more and more. Usually, it goes away after a day or two. But I've been feeling it constantly now. I was told that there was no cure, only a treatment in America. In the one place I would never in free will go. My fathers private clinic.

I clenched the sheets in my fists, feeling silint tears slowly drip down my face as I went through another wave of spasms. Everything has been take away from me, my hope, my vibrancy, even my fight. All I had had left was my pride, and I even then i was dancing on the fringes of losing it. When Im forced to meet him, Im sure even that will be taken away from me. Creakily, I swung my legs to the side of the bed and fought with my body to stand. Every time I moved, a shock would go through my body, I let out an inaudible gasp and my breathing hitched. I'll be damned if I would let my pride be wounded, let the frigid cold wind that is my father overcome me. As my body gave out under me, I cluched the small blue bottle to my chest and slumped against the drawer.

Soon I was shuddering and twitching on the floor, and when I opened the bottle, the red pills went flying in all directions. I grabbed the closest to me, and gulped the pill down. When I finally calmed down some, I made my way into the bathroom. I flipped the light switch and grabbed a hold onto the sink. Raising my head so my eyes could meet in the mirror, I stared at a stranger. His hair was limp and lifeless, the skin was a pale white almost bordering on gray, tone. Almost like a dead man. But the worst part was his eyes. His eyes were sunk in, lifeless, the usually brilliant colors holding a glint of desperation and anguish. He looked like a rotting animated corpse. And that man, was me.

I found that the shower was soothing my nerves, and allowing me to clear my head so i could think properly. I began to imagine a black magnificent piano in a large bright room that I've never been before. I shifted towards it, and sat down on the bench. I touched the keys slowly, grazing one finger on all of them. And then, I began to play. Each note was perfection in this slow melody, and I soon felt that long forgotten sense of exileration engulfing me. The tempo picked up as the intro started and I began to sing.

"In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun...

Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,

This world you must've crossed... she said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,

She said

You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,

Essential yet appealed, carry all your thoughts across

An open field,

When flowers gaze at you... they're not the only ones who cry

When they see you

She said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,

She said

You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,

She said I think I'll go to Boston...

I think I'll start a new life,

I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name,

I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather,

I think I'll get a lover and fly him out to Spain...

Oh yeah and I think I'll go to Boston,

I think that I'm just tired

I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind...

I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,

I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah,

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah...

Boston... where no one knows my name... yeah

Where no one knows my name...

Where no one knows my name...

Boston...

No one knows my name."

When I finshed the first note, I felt myself being pulled back to reality. I would never get to do what Ive always wanted to do. To sing. Because by then Ill be dead. By then my voice will be gone.