I know, I know! I am a bad girl. You would think that over Spring Break I would have written something for this story. Well, you would think wrong. It's the Monday after Spring Break that I decide, 'Hey! Let's randomly start writing chapter 13!'. So, yeah, I'm a dork. Deal with it.

I'm sorry that this chapter is really short and rather random. Well, maybe not random, but sort of . . . out there, and . . . yeah, basically random.

So anyway, I just want to inform you now that he is on the Tower roof because I didn't really make that very clear, and I don't want you get the wrong impression.

Okay, time to READ!

The wind wisped past his ears, his shaggy green hair waving aimlessly. The dreary clouds encased his sorrowful consciousness and draped themselves over his soul. The breeze blew in tiny specks of mist and water the slowly wet his cold cheeks.

Gazing out into the distance, he could see the towering city before him. He would always watch at a distance, but it constantly felt like the pressure in the streets traveled over to his secluded dwelling. Did they ever think about him? Did they ever wonder what happened to the goofy green changeling?

Of course not, he thought to himself. Why would they care anyway?

His wistful thoughts were overcome by a dense feeling of loneliness and misery. His shoulders were weighted down by immense devastation, and before he even realized it, absent tears were rolling down his face.

His arms reached up to the sky. As he gazed at his hands against the bright, yet awfully dreadful sky, he first saw innocent fingers of a pure soul. Then flashes of blood clouded his vision and he let a cry escape from his lips.

Sobs emitted from his being and he covered his face with his hands in shame. Stumbling to the edge of the roof he was standing on, he looked down and saw the jagged rocks below. It would be so easy . . .

He was suddenly painfully aware of a presence behind him. Without turning around, he knew it was the mysterious stranger ––– some aura about her distinguished her from others. Almost ashamed, he refused to turn around and acknowledge her.

You're right, she commented abruptly. It would be easy.

Shocked, he slowly turned his head towards her. She was standing several feet behind him, vividly purple eyes boring into him. She continued, eerily calm.

For all the pain you went through, one would surely want to end one's own existence. Escaping the pain is all that matters, and death is a simple choice. Strangely, you have endured this pain for such an extended period of time, yet you have taken no action against your life. Why is this so?

He stared at her, completely taken aback. He was certain she would attack him with her lessons and so on, yet . . . she was telling him that he should end his life?

Why? Why suffer when your escape route is so cleanly laid out for you? One step . . . one shot . . . one gag . . . and it could all be over. So easily, yet you choose to fall deeper into the pain. Why?

His fists tightened. He knew why. And he would tell her, even thoughhe knewshe would never understand.

"Because," he said through gritted teeth, "Life is my punishment."

Come on.

You know you want to review.

NOW.