While the character whose POV this is in is not actually mentioned as of yet, as you read, it should be easy enough to figure out.

Enjoy!~

Chapter 1: White Flag

No one wants to hurt a beautiful thing, but, inevitably, we all do at some point, sometimes without even knowing it. Don't say that's not true, because of course it is.

You can't live in this world without destroying something. It's simple chemistry. Everyone knows it, even if on a subconscious level.

But then again, there are those rare cases in which you end up making something downright gorgeous.

What you think of me, of us, at the end of this story, will depend on how you look at things. On how you slant sentences to your own ideals.

This tale is very simple, I'll tell you that right now. It's not much of anything special. It's a story about many things, the least of which include one boy, one girl, my favorite songs, and that quiet feeling of desperation that sneaks up behind you when you realize you can't do anything against the overarching presence of your own destiny.

I'm not trying to make any kind of point. I'm just here to tell you what I remember, before it's too late. Take these words as you will, but always remember that they will resonate differently in another's ears.

Nobody said it was easy being me. I certainly wouldn't say that. Of course, I will concede that you lead a life that is extremely different from mine. Our lives are sure to be almost polar opposites, in fact.

You probably go to school or go to work or lounge around all day in your pajamas doing absolutely nothing. You probably eat food that you want to, and while you may get bored of the same routine day after day, every minute of your life is probably filled with innumerable choices and potential.

My life, on the other hand, is a very different set of "probably"s.

Today, I will probably get beaten up. Today, I will probably, no, make that surely, eat nondescript food divided into little squares on a nondescript plastic tray. Today, I will probably be threatened in the beige corridor, the blind spot between the two cameras.

Today, while you do your chores or your homework, I will scratch another tally mark into the pockmarked granite wall.

Tonight, while you sleep on a thick mattress under two layers of warm blankets, I will toss and turn restlessly on a hideously stained, lumpy cot, listening to hushed breaths and the squeaks of leather soles on the tiles.

In the dead of night, while you dream peacefully about whatever it is you dream about, I will be caught in the swirls of a nightmare, unable to escape.

Tomorrow morning, when you wake up and wish you still had more time to sleep, I will wake up and wish that I could lose myself in sleep again, will realize once again that my reality is far more terrible than any nightmares I could have conjured.

And yet, if I had the choice, I would do it all over again. I would start that chain of reactions that led to me being here in the first place. After careful retrospect, I would pick up that baseball bat, would pull that trigger, would redo everything to produce the outcome I'm living now.

I can't say I like it, but I, unlike others, know without a doubt that I'm right. And I guess that's all that really matters.

And when we meet

Which I'm sure we will

All that was there

Will be there still

I'll let it pass

And hold my tongue

And you will think

That I've moved on

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up in surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love, always will be…

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up in surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love, and always will be…

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up in surrender.

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love, and

Always

Will

Be…