Something I spruced up. Just 'cause I didn't wanna do Lit. Hehehehe. =P

A/N: So. It's short, and it may be my worst work ever, but whatever. I just felt like taking a break from writing stupid essays and just, well, write. Because there's a difference, you know. ;)

Disclaimer: MINE. No buying, borrowing, or stealing without my permission. I will judo-chop your heads off if I so catch a whiff of such lowly acts.

Anyways, hope you enjoy this short piece. =)

    It’s slightly below freezing in my room; maybe slightly warmer than that as well. Pastel shades stare at me, even if they had no eyes. Maybe this was why I didn’t like staring at them; I couldn’t see them stare back.

    Pale blue and violet walls. My parents picked it out for me; I guess they thought I’d like it. I probably did. I might have cooed over their choice, even. I was twelve; I should be given some credit. Internally, I scoff at that thought. Dreams left me barely standing when I hit puberty and saw the world through a clear looking-glass.

    Some people call me disturbed. Maybe I just don’t like to be disturbed. Is that too difficult to comply with? Maybe mankind ate the wrong fruit from the wrong tree. Or, maybe mankind DID eat the right fruit but they didn’t digest it properly and-

    Ramblings make me tired. Eric used to say I used my head too much, that my brain could potentially explode from the amount of thoughts I store inside of it. But isn’t that what the brain is for? To store what can’t escape through your lips? The black abyss didn’t seem like it could take more than a few distorted memories at a time, and so it seemed pointless to argue with him.

    I never see Eric anymore.

    I don’t ramble much, nowadays.

    I just stare at the pastel shades, and try to find the eyes, the eyes that are staring, always staring.

A/N: And there you have it. Comments? =)