Life is so long
Blue stood still, staring into the bleak night, into the future. The lone street light cast his long shadow onto the ground. His mind was empty now, and he felt nothing, except the dead weight of the gun in his hand. Life is so long. How much weight can one soul bear? How many betrayals? How much pain, until you you become so numb that might as well be dead anyways. Blue thought of his red box kept in his fathers closet, now full of his new stepmothers papers. He thought of the dead chicken his mother starved in the shoebox on his bed. Blue was 13 when he died, though he kept moving through the world around him. He had tried to go on living, acting as if he were the same as everyone else. The same thoughts and feelings, motivations and desires. But, what can the dead know of the world of the living. What can you do when you look in the mirror and you don’t know the person looking back and your eyes are cold? The fire had gone out long ago, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. Blue looked at the puddle of sticky red syrup on the road. He put the barrel of the gun on his mouth and pulled the trigger.