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he tried to avoid the pain inducing words thrown at him. As usual he plugged in his earplugs as he strolled around the school. Drowning all the hurting harshness in a sea of music. But they seemed to have implanted a record player in his brain and it kept on replaying their cruel words. It overpowered the tenor of the singer's voice and engulfed him with it's raucous cries.
their stares made him feel filthy. he felt as if he had rolled in day old garbage. he could almost smell the putrid stench surrounding him. he could almost feel the gritty grime smearing his skin. their stares led his imaginations to take peculiar turns.
"Wimp," they called him.
his throat brewed fire. his eyes exuded water.
he desperately wished to merge with the air.
he was crumbling down rapidly. he tried harder to recollect the purpose of his life only to get lost harder in the thoughts of death.
he was a King. But he let them rule over his kingdom. Because he was way too frail to reclaim it from them. he shamelessly thought- after all he was just a wimp.
