Mother screamed. Mother pleaded and cried and the walls mimicked her voice and cried back.

Lips, light and soft, blew bubbles gently as they drifted deeper into a pool of darkening blue.

Crimson daylight fled from the embracing arms of night, the cascading silhouette of children ran across the horizon line.

Separating the tops from the bottoms. Cut through like scissors and paper, two equal sheets, pale white flowed into pure red.

A deep breath.

A deeper breath.

A sigh.

Ear-splitting silence.

I unwrapped my body from the sheets that entangled me. Of course; another night waking up in a cold sweat and airless lungs.

Great.

I didn't bother to check the time, I knew it was early enough. Approximately five in the morning, or six even. I swung my legs across the firmness of the bed. I never liked softness, it made me feel small and flimsy, as if I didn't have any bones to support my body's weight. I didn't like feeling as if I had become a part of the fluff and stuffing within the items I touched, so my bed's mattress had the consistency of a mud-stone; Only moving to fit my body, not absorb it.

Throughout the short time I spent just to peel my aching body from my bedsheets, I was able to plan out my day.

I will take my shower, eat something nourishing for breakfast, and maybe this time around I'll go for an early morning jog.

Anything to get away from this godforsaken house.

I found myself outside in the foggiest of mornings, they world and roads were monochrome grey, the distant horizon impossible to see through the whirling clouds that hovered along the outlines of the earth. I was at a loss of breath, mostly because the air was clogged with unbreathable thick gas and my lungs struggled to take in the oxygen blocked off by it all. The other small percentage was because of the ongoing cardio-workout.

I stopped to catch my breath, resting the palms of my hands against the top of my knees.

But I suddenly found myself cringing from the immense pain throbbing in my head. Like the beating of hollow drums from every angle, every single direction that I could turn, nothing stopped the pain. I doubled over, taking sharp quick breaths.

I could barely breathe before, I will definitely have collapsed lungs now.

My vision reddened and blurred, I felt like I was suffocating. I could easily feel the beads of sweat tickling my scalp and dripping off my nose and chin. My ears felt like they were leaking as well, the pain in my head was like a distant rumbling, growing louder and louder until I felt the heat swell up, and despite logic, I feared that my head was going to literally pop, like a balloon under great pressures.

Silence.

The vibrations had ceased, and I was left with tightly shut eyes and a hunched over stance. I released my locked jaw and loosened my clenched fist from my hair, lowering them just an inch. Tearing them away would cause pain, as my index finger and thumb made a tangled knot in my golden tresses. The world spiralled into focus, and in my view- nothing but grey.

The fog was like a solid wall, cement on cement. It was simple, smooth, actually beautiful by generalist standards.

And I couldn't take it.

I ran home, full sprint. The images that came with the solid wall were haunting, cruel and left a bitter taste in my mouth.

The Listerines of Time could not wash out the foul taste. It took more than a single gurgle and spit to clean out those bad memories. I'll have to rinse and repeat.

And repeat.

And repeat.

And repeat.

"Has no one shown you the pureness of art?"

"...No."

"My son, you just have to learn hard, like everyone else in the godforsaken house."

"But dad, can't I just-"

"No! Do you not seek the pureness of life!? Don't you understand the core of your own soul feeds off of the beauties you take in?"

"I...I didn't-"

"Indifference and Mediocrity are born from a mind that lacks Intellect and self-respect! I will not be pestered by an idiot child and his naïve youth."

"But dad I don't wanna go!"

"You are not my son if you can't use proper words instead of spitting slang at my feet. You will stay in this room, and you will learn to accept, breathe, and indulge yourself in art. I want you to stare into it until you are washed free from your graffiti-stained slate. Stare into the pure grey pools of art, enjoy her beauty, and come out after you feel normal again."

"Dad, it's too quiet in there! It's scary!"

"Silence is virtue, my boy. Fear is its sin."