Book Of The Broken

The Boy in a Room; Him

The boy sat alone his room, flipping through the pages of his journal. He gazed upon each page intently; it was the record of his life.  Each page was a tribute, however meaningless to his very existence. Occasionally, he would break away from the ink stained pages and look around his room. Each corner unfamiliar and yet he knew them well. It was dark; the shades drawn tight, there were no lights. The windows all closed and sealed so that there were no outside sounds, just his beating heart, his breath... it was just him alone with his thoughts. These dark, haunting thoughts full of such pain and grief. He glanced once more upon the journal. His thoughts begain to wander and he, like a puppy chasing a stick or a ball.. . he gave chase. In that instant, he was lost. His mind an unfamiliar wasteland, his soul barren and void of conscious. He sat alone, yet not alone. "They" reside within,  his demons were always there. A constant reminder of his feeble and frail existence. His own insecurities; the very reason they existed. His disconnect with the rest of humanity. ..the betrayal of life and companionship. He only knew the pain of being alone. And yet it was strange to him, almost unsettling. It was dark and somehow never this dark, he knew loneliness, yet never so alone; pain but never such terrible hurt.
As he sat "alone" within the confines of his inner mind,  he could only wonder.  "How did I get to this point?  How did it get this way?" Not a single thought came to mind. .. none except. It was she, whom he placed the entirety of his soul, she who held his still beating heart.  And she.. .she was responsible for his downfall. Suddenly, remembering the cause; a rush of pain, a surge of emotions. It was like twisting the blade or tearing anew an old wound. Her name scorched his mouth as would molten lead, her memory scarred his mind and left the haunting imprint of her image burned into his eyes.
Just like that the illusion was broken and his reality came flooding back. His happy thoughts; regardless of their existence, we're wiped out and his mind now halted and held hostage by the arrest of his heart... his breathing now exfixiated. Time seemed to cease existing.
"Why?" This was the only question he could ask, the only one important enough to wish an answer.