Truths Hide In Shadows

Chapter 1

A pair of pale indigo eyes opened begrudgingly. The owner slowly sitting up.

He yawned queitly as he forced himself out of bed. He really just wanted to go back to sleep...

He sighed as he looked around his bedroom, it was barren and extermly old.

The carpet that was once a soft brown color, was pulled and teared at in some areas; it was stained with several unknown substances and had become a mucky brown color. The wallpaper was a nice baby blue once, though with the bad summer heats and freezing winters, the paper had peeled and yellowed, making it a sickening shade of green.

The room only had an old dresser, that looked as if it was to fall apart at any second, and a single creaking bed; both objects were old and worn.

The man rubbed his eyes, self-pity filling his body. 

He didn't completley understand why he forced himself to live like this... Though he guessed he didn't have any choice about it...

"Come on... Get up..." He murmured, pushing himself off the bed. 

He winced when he heard the loud groaning and squealing of the old, metal bedframe. He might have to get a new one soon.

Ruffling his dark black hair, he walked into the 'house bathroom'. 

Unlike the bedroom, the bathroom looked fairly well: the cool tiles were swept and mopped, even though it still was chipped and faded; the sink wasn't cluttered and was a pale yellow, almost white and the trash had been taken out earlier, so that wasn't a problem. The shower had what anyone would need to bath themselves and the toilet was cleaned.

Taking a deep breath, the man dared a look in the polilshed mirror.

His pale eyes met those of the same. Chubby cheeks with ghostly white skin that was almost glowing in the ugly lighting showed. Black hair rolled off the young man's shoulders in dripping waves like goop, it didn't help that it had a greasy shine to it. His pale indigo eyes looked sunken in from the lack of sleep that he had been getting for the past two weeks, making him look almost dead like.

The man cringed. He looked worse than usual! He was about twenty years old and yet he still had baby fat in his cheeks(though that's mostly due to the fact he eats a lot of chocolate) and he looked liked he had cancer or did some sort of drugs. 

Groaning, the man opened the mirror cabnet and grabbed his pills.

He then turned on the shower and started to strip. He took off his simple white tank along with his boring old, blue briefs. Then he climbed in.

The water was still cold, but he didn't care; if it wakes him up, he didn't mind.

After his shower, he tugged on black boxers with dark army grey tights and midnight blue shorts over them. He pulled on a deep purple shirt with his black, two sizes too big sweater. Coughing slighlty, he yanked his boots on. They were getting old though, so he thought maybe he should buy some more later... But that's later.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he walked into his kitchen... If you can call it that. 

There wasn't much in there either. There wasn't a toaster, nor a coffee machine, or a lot of anything. It only had a small wooden table for sitting four people, a small stack of plates and a few cups with a handful of silverware. 

The young male didn't like how sparse he was living, but he had to do what he had to.

Looking in the fridge, he saw, nothing. He was out of food, again...

"That's the sixth time this month..." He grumbled, slamming the door closed. "Guess no breakfast..." He whispered.

At the thought, his stomach rumbled. The sound filled the apartment, making it eerie.

Sighing to himself, he grabbed his light brown stachel and left. He really didn't want to be late for his lessons...