So this is a little story that I wrote as a practice for an English assignment. I hope you enjoy!

IDONTOWNMERLIN

Sat here in this unholy moonshine, with nothing bar a single burnt down candle to provide light, with which to see, surrounded by the unkempt tidiness of his room, he could think of nothing more. The raging storm blew harshly against the small window, providing him with almost pure moonlight. Wind rattling the window pane and rain wetting it. He looked down once more.

He could think of nothing more. He itched, craved, almost certainly, begged for the sweet agony, the gorgeous mutilation to greet him once more. He raved; he wanted nothing more to view the sweet crimson. Staring at nothing, he sighed into the bright abyss. The pale skin, a contrast, to the even paler lines. Only serving as a reminder of the unfortunate power he had once held, the certainty that came with knowing your life was at the murderous hand of yourself. The possibility that such a minute point could end so many. It was almost addictive, and he wanted his next fix. Hitherto, he had yet to try again. The call had been strong, much like that of a dictator, and he had still vehemently denied the pull. But now, under a tainted light, the hurt seemed attractive.

But nonetheless, he denied it still.

With a life such as his, one could understand his excessive need for this despicable relief. With this unruly power, one could assume that it would act outwards, destroying all. But, despite others opinions, it was, in fact, turned inwards; imploding. And nothing was in fact left inside. Desolate persons.

A gust blew through the bare door. Blowing out the singular candle, leaving him to the mercy of the star shine. Once again alone.