A Simple Tale (unfinished)

Writing

Cold and damp is the night, bodies shaking, hands shivering. Their lips were whispering, soft seductive secrets off the tongue. The rumors spread like fire from the lips of all, the secrets of one became the laughter of all. His truths were their lives; their lies were the world’s truths. The man that chased his dreams so far, and so devotedly all of his dreams were nothing but visions in his mind now. His reality turned to detritus, his hopes and ambition nothing now. His mind nothing but a morsel, his body battered and bruised, black and blue spots covering his arms and legs and torso. The walls of his room were torn, falling snow and yellow sponge filled the light with a bright yellow shine, for him it was his home. All the whispers in his head became reality, his secrets all published to the world in his padded cell.

Robert Cross, Multibillionaire Extraordinary, Prison Code 123018520 Block a Cell E2

In chains and in disorient, smashing on the walls, of his cells. Nails surrounded with blood on his fingertips, a demented smile on his bright eyed face. His reality was all crushed for one reason and one alone. The words he spoke became knives to the ears with his tongue so sharp and lethal.

No one could dig him out from his despair, so deep, so distraught. He was a hopeless soul the only words he ever uttered were “10:45” 10:45, the time he claims to have lost his soul. At that exact time, his heart and body were cold. He couldn’t carry a proper expression or movement, his body was so broken and scarred from his constant scratching on the walls and bumping. All of this is his ending his beginning was something different, he was successful, in love, and happy. Now he is this, cruel, bitter, cold manic depressive man.  All he could do was envision those cold dark red eyes that had led him to his downfall and the things they made him do. They made so damn sure that he wouldn’t be the same, and it seems those eyes, those eyes succeed in their plan to bring down Robert.

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