There he sat. Alone in his room, laying there, useless. His breathing was slow, the small up and down motion of his chest barely recognizable. He rolled over, from the mattress on the floor to a small pile of essential items by his head. He clutched in his claw a pair of oversized sunglasses, putting them over his eyes just as the day's new sun rose to his window. He rolled over, facing the wall next to his bed. He gazed up, awkwardly, at the many tallys scartched eturnally into the paint. He reached over a long bony finger attached to a grossly overgrown nail. He placed the nail gracefully, daintily onto the wall. Another brick in the Wall, were his echoing thoughts as he scratched a thin, imperfect line next to all the others. A small quiet sigh escaped his pale lips. He rolled over facing the door to his room. He studied it. The small imperfections, the properties of the colour, the patterns of the wood. He waited for someone, anyone, to come through the door. Eventually someone did.

"Dude where the hell have you been? we have sound check in fifteen minutes!" His hair was dark brown, almost black. He was thin, but not weak looking. Behind his eyes was a spark of energy and potential wit. His mouth was upturned at one side giving the appearence of slyness. Despite this fact he was ignorant, and his emotional comprehension lacked severly. "Really we need to get going."

He who was lying in bed sighed. He looked to the window. In his wait night had fallen over the city. Without words he began to slowly get out of bed. torture he thought now standing dragginf around these bricks all the time...TORTURE! In his mind he attempted to rearrange his bricks into a lighter form. All attempts were futile. The Wall was formed in a cylindrical, surronding him. The Wall was immensely high.

At long last he reached the bathroom. He showered in icy water, helping to clear some fog from his brain. A single brick fell from the top of the Wall, and smashed into the shower floor. It had happened silently, slowly. He watched the brick slowly crunble and decompose at his feet. He watched the remnants slowly drift in the currents toward the black and chrome hole. He stepped back slightly, giving the last dregs of brick room.

When the brick had gone he turned off the water. Staring timidly at the drain. He placed a towel around his hips, and walked deliberately towards the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror. Both hands on the sides of the sink. His hair was greasy, which caused the normally light brown hair to darken. His eyes bloodshot, accenting the hazel of the iris. His skin normally a cream, had turned to a gastly grey. He seemed almost transparent in the harsh light of the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair. He felt better then. Now groomed and fresh he saw another brick fall into the sink. He walked out of the bathroom to see his witty, ignorant friend standing there, hands on his hips, foot tappinf softly on the stained carpet.

"what the hell is wrong with you? we're late!"

Then the wait of a single brick was added onto his wall. He got dressed, slightly depressed. What is wrong with me? he thought adjusting his striped tie. As the continueum of his original thought process, another brick formed at the top of the Wall. He sighed in relief, embracing the weight and seclusion from the outside world.

He walked out of his room to the hallway where his friend was waiting. His head down he shuffled his italien leather shoes across the dirty carpet, past his friend. He reached for his guitar placed by the front door. He clutched it protectivley. He grabbed his gold house key, small enogh to loose in a pocket. Among his key was a small green keychain reading It Is What It Is. He deeply agreed with this. He took it as a replacement for his lost faith. He thought about his childhood. How religion was shoved his throat every five minutes. Two more bricks were added to the Wall. The weight now greater than ever before. He closed his eyes. Alone. The word echoed in his thoughts.

He continued walking outsideto his friends waiting car nestled in the ruined driveway.He opened the back door of the car, carefully he placed his guitar in the tan, leather backseat. His friend came up behind him, getting into the driver's seat and starting the car. He got in the passenger's seat not bothering to buckle his seatbelt. What does it matter is we crash and I die? I will not be missed. He felt more bricks adding to the weight of the Wall. He to put it quite simply, was insane.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: im on the dark side of the moon,

ah!

brand new fic no one wants to read it

this is like the best shit i have ever written!

I WANT TO READ IT!

I READ IT
its good

your a great writer
KEEP IT UPPP

thankeessss!

lolol the boards are soooo dead

no one besides 2 people are reading this...e_e

I am! I love itIs Ryan taken?

ahhh tbh there wasnt gonna be a love interest in this...

this is.......amazing! YOU ARE AMAZING...
you should really continue coz this is really really good!

awe thankees

now comes the fun part..

wjo do you think the insane one is? and who do you think his friend is?

xDDD

quote:

wjo do you think the insane one is? and who do you think his friend is?

CAN I ANSWER?!!!!!!!!

XD

ryan the insane...brendon the friend...

That was really good and in response to your question I think that the insane one is Ryan and Brendon is the friend

yes both of you are quite correct...xDDD

hahah tbqh i have no idea where im going with this...

I think you already said you weren't planning on making them have any love interests but if you change your mind may I take Jon? Lol but you should update it sounds like an amazing storyyy