Falling, How boring.

Oneshot

*READ DESC BEFORE JUDGING!!*

I sit at the desk opposing my bed, as usual before I fall asleep, the dim lamp atop it, illuminating the surface in a minor, comforting light – one of the only things to comfort me. My eyes glance to the window at the side of my room. The curtains used to cover it were slightly parted, showing the rain on the glass dripping down at a low pace as the seconds tick away, 1..2..3.., I count to myself as the drops hit the bottom of the framed panes. Boredom accompanies me , 4..5..6.., just a regular boring life. As my counting gradually builds up 10, I get up out of my little wooden chair and shut the curtains abruptly – how annoying those little drops falling, falling, falling and falling, how boring. I thought to myself how annoying a life being a water drop must be, falling from the sky to just hit the ground and splatter to then continue the cycle all over again. Eventually, I cut off my deep thoughts and slither into my blanket resting over the mattress of my bed and drift off, how boring.

Morning rises, the sun blocked by the curtains I shut yesterday. I walk out of the room with my disorganised hair, black circles under my eyes like bruises and my dirty childhood pyjamas which I slept in. The houses lights were left on from last night. The strong glow fills the room making my eyes sting. I look at the cupboards for remaining food as my stomach rumbles in frustration, nothing left? how boring. This day was sunny, completely different from yesterdays weather. Speaking of yesterday, I remember those little drops. Falling, falling, falling and falling... how boring.

Later , laying still in my pyjamas, flicking through channels with the dusty TV remote, all the shows appear static. I listen to the static as it makes a piercing sound in my ears, ringing. I sit up and watch the static moving frantically. In the corner of my eye I spot a mess on my arm. The red lines from 'drawing' before bed last night stayed on my arms. Why is the ink still dripping? Its not ink? How boring.

Its not ink?

Its not ink?

Its not ink?

Its not ink?

Its not ink?

Its not ink?

Its not ink? 

Wait, how did I get up here? Up on the apartment building roof? The winds are strong, making my clothing flow in the breeze along with my tangled, unbrushed hair. Isn't this apartment building 20 stories? It's a long way down. I look down at the floor below me. So far down isn't it? How boring it must be to live as a water drop. I take one foot off the roof leaving me balance at the edge. For the last time. I smile. I breathe. I jump. I am a water drop. 1..2..3.. Falling, falling, 4..5..6.. falling and falling, how boring. 8..9..10.., Splatter.

The end.