Status: new story, I'm busy with college so I'm not sure how updates will be
The Art of Drowning
Chapter 2
There is a room in this world, which no one ever thinks about.
It’s dark; the only light shines through barred windows, carving a harsh yellow square into the black of the floor.
The furnishings are sparse, a desk coated with graffiti against the wall underneath the one window, and a simple bunk bed in the corner.
There are no decorations, just a single sheet of paper, covered in neat drops of crimson, held in place up on the wall with a rusty nail.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A figure is perched on the top bunk, silent and unmoving.
It is a boy.
He seems too small for the room somehow; shoulders hunched with the weight of the world, dark hair flopped over, hiding his eyes.
The door is unlocked and opened, but the boy remains motionless, even as a tray of food is placed on the desk, an untouched plate of food taken away.
Then the door is closed.
The figure finally moves, tilting his head to peek out from beneath his fringe, the movement revealing a glint of silver at his lip and nose.
He stays that way for a moment, as if he’s listening for something.
After a while he rolls up his sleeve, uncovering ink painted skin.
The boy smiles, tracing the colors fondly before turning to the wall and pulling the nail from it, laying the paper on his lap.
He presses the nail into his forearm; slicing open the tattoo’s decorated there.
Two drops of blood are added to the paper.
Satisfied, the boy licks the puncture wound clean, replaces the paper to its spot on the wall, pushes his sleeve back down, assumes his original position, and goes still again.
It’s dark; the only light shines through barred windows, carving a harsh yellow square into the black of the floor.
The furnishings are sparse, a desk coated with graffiti against the wall underneath the one window, and a simple bunk bed in the corner.
There are no decorations, just a single sheet of paper, covered in neat drops of crimson, held in place up on the wall with a rusty nail.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A figure is perched on the top bunk, silent and unmoving.
It is a boy.
He seems too small for the room somehow; shoulders hunched with the weight of the world, dark hair flopped over, hiding his eyes.
The door is unlocked and opened, but the boy remains motionless, even as a tray of food is placed on the desk, an untouched plate of food taken away.
Then the door is closed.
The figure finally moves, tilting his head to peek out from beneath his fringe, the movement revealing a glint of silver at his lip and nose.
He stays that way for a moment, as if he’s listening for something.
After a while he rolls up his sleeve, uncovering ink painted skin.
The boy smiles, tracing the colors fondly before turning to the wall and pulling the nail from it, laying the paper on his lap.
He presses the nail into his forearm; slicing open the tattoo’s decorated there.
Two drops of blood are added to the paper.
Satisfied, the boy licks the puncture wound clean, replaces the paper to its spot on the wall, pushes his sleeve back down, assumes his original position, and goes still again.
♠ ♠ ♠
Alright so first off I'd like to say thank you to all the people who commented, I feel honored to get so many with only a short prologue. :) This chapter is obviously in Frank's POV, I know it's a little confusing, but it will all be explained in time, including his weird little ritual. Since it's short I may do another update today.Hearts to all who commented
Rikkii__
aMostBrutalGentleman
Alexxis_UNDEAD
OnMyOwn.