Stories

Standing

Standing on the edge makes you think. Should I jump? Who would care?

In reality of my life, no one would, care that is.

I sit here, always waiting for them to stop me, but they never do,

The voices call out to me and make me see the world for what it really is.

A desolate wasteland where crime and death reign supreme.

I sit and watch the death and destruction of our own human race.

I speak to me, shows me what we actually are.

We are monsters who shouldn't have been created, yet we are here.

Here to shed blood.

This is why I stand, stand on the edge, because no one cares.

I see them watch on, laugh at me, put me down.

I think these thoughts of the people I knew, how they don't care about me.

As the wind touches my face, it fills me with power,

Power to choose what to do with my own life.

The most extraordinary power you can hold.

Hah. I watch, I watch them all, they swarm like ants around where I will fall.

Where my physical limitations will be met.

They will draw in chalk and try to understand, but they never will understand my fate.

They will only watch on as the men of power crush them all.

Oh, love this great day for showing me the truth.

The truth of them all.

The truth of us all.

All of us should die.

We shouldn't exist.

We were not meant to be this powerful.

Because power is corrupt.

And with death comes the light.