A/N: 4.15.13: I think this is just a bunch of words. Heh.
Here's the one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound, written in the days of Amanda Katrice Granger...enjoy!
For my dear friend Jessy...who is worthy of telling people songs that take over their lives. :P
the one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound
He walked often.
He walked to work out everything.
He walked, weighed down, trying to shake off the responsibilities from both sides he had received so willingly.
One day, he was supposed to believe one thing, the next, another.
He didn't even know what he was supposed to do. Each decision came with a consequence, and it seemed like he was always the one to take the blow.
It wasn't easy. It was killing him. And it hurt so much.
Yet, it didn't show. Silently, without a sound, he walked, inflicting fear into the ones that saw him in their multi-color robes.
He was more scared than them.
Each step was so painful as he walked in the night, stalking the hallways, stopping at the closed doors so he could hear the childish laughter that he lost so quickly.
He felt the guilt that embraced him all these years, the guilt that he knew he deserved. He heard the strangled screams of the helpless and the cry of the innocent, the sounds that come from those being hurt while he just stood there and silently watched, this time, so still.
He couldn't speak. He couldn't cry out in protest, asking him why he was even doing this.
Something was screaming inside and trying to get out, punching the surface and yelling all types of refuse.
You coward.
Yes, a coward. He's silent. Utterly silent.
Sometimes he can feel her dead body in his arms.
That's when the guilt peaks and he questions living as he trudges on, carrying everything, so so heavy.
That's when he wonders why.
He couldn't save her, his only love. So what did anything matter now?
He was punished to have her in his arms forever.
And yet he walked on.
Review?
