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𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 : 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒.
He wished he would just die already. Get sick, get into an accident, get murdered, die of the toxins he inhaled almost daily. He wished he could die. But not by his own hands.
He came close to it, too many times to count, but he couldn't do it. He would spend hours on the rooftop he was currently on, imagining how long it would take for him to reach the ground, to finally get the peace he's been constantly craving.
Although, the faint noise of music blaring in his ears always reminded him of everyone he would let down and disappoint, everyone counting on him.
Theodore wanted to live.
He wanted to live as someone else. As someone who was healed, that could look at objects and not completely break down because it brings them back to a time long gone. Someone that could smile and mean it every time. Someone that wasn't exhausted of life.
He took a drag of his cigarette. Looking down at the cars and the people milling around, the thought emerged once again.
He exhaled the smoke. His body relaxing and thoughts slowing down for just a second before they were back to their normal hustle.
He used to hate the person he's become. Merely existing in the passing of time, his hands always itching for a cigarette in order to relieve the stress and make everything seem clear for a couple of seconds.
Now, he couldn't bring himself to care.
His eyes were constantly hooded and empty, almost as if the brightness of the outside world was attacking the darkness lying inside of his mind and dwelling in his memories. His smile always missed those few millimetres that make it look genuine. And his mind was already carving a nest for the endless memories taunting him day and night.
His mind was running faster than his heart was beating. It made him question if there was even a reason for it to keep beating...
