Okay. My first real story here. I hope there aren't any grammar or spelling mistakes. Would love to get some reviews :). The first chapter is a bit shorter because I suck at long introductions and also because I didn't want to scare any readers off by the first chapter being too long.
WARNING: Rated MA. May include explicit adult themes and language.
Chapter 1: Imprisoned
He was looking down...into the empty, nocturnal streets. Only a few people still being awake, only a few, small lights still burning, bathing the city in a soft contrast between the blue night-sky and these orange, dim lights. He inhaled the cool, clear air, enjoyed the silence. The sky was crystal clear, the stars shining bright, and it almost seemed to him like this very moment was not from this world. It felt surreal, better than a puff on a hashish pipe. Definitely better. And definitely far less sense depriving.
He ignored the coldness, ignored the loneliness, too. Loneliness. That was the one-word-description one would give of him. But he didn't care, liked the way he chose to live. Sometimes, he thought about what a normal life would be like. Sometimes, he thought about what having a wife and children would be like. But as soon as he thought of it he started disliking it. He didn't know why. He had never had a relationship in his life and the thought of having one felt strange to him.
He was unable to love. (At least that's what he made himself believe.) He had not felt love anymore since his parents had been killed when he was a child. Love disgusted him. Love made a man blind. Love was poison, poisoning the minds of men and women alike. Love was the enemy he fought in his life. Love was what he had imprisoned deep inside the core of his dark soul. And whenever it tried to get out he repressed it.
He sometimes felt this urge…to love. But whenever he did he covered it with sarcastic lines and taunting. And he tried to forget about it as soon as it was over. Not realising what he would have to realise someday: that everyone needed love.
His red sash was waving steadily in the calm wind. He pulled his white hood farther forward, making even more of his face being engulfed by black shadow. And he smiled self-complacently, putting his thighs in position against his upper body, wrapping his arms loosely around them, making his head rest on top of his knees.
He started biting the nail of his right index finger. He often did that when he was secluded, thinking. What he was trying to find, that he didn't know. An answer…to something…everything. He really didn't know.
It got colder, making him freeze a little bit, giving him goose bumps. He ignored it. The same way he ignored everything else. The same way he ignored that hole caused by his loneliness of which he didn't know how to fill it. Because he didn't know what it was like not to be lonely. And he probably didn't want to know.