So...

I sit here, In my room.

Wearing a brand new pair of Underdaks. Great underwear these are. Comfortable.

After attending a Dreamweaver course this Friday just passed, I realised how much i do not want to be at school now. Oh well, guess I have to deal with it.

Struggling to find something interesting to write. I could write about what i did this weekend. But how about not.

How about, a story...

He sat there, feeling more irritated as each second passed by. Generic waiting room music was quietly playing in the background from another room close by. He leaned forward on his chair with a loud creak. The sweat building on his forehead reminded him he was running out of time. He produced a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

The weather outside was that of a typical Autumns day. Humid and dull. The sun was setting behind black clouds, leaving an ominous glare on this small town. Thunder rumbled in the distance as all the birds anxiously made their way back to their nests to settle for the evening.

He wished he had somewhere to go too. He knew he couldn't think that, he knew But something inside him kept taking his mind back to the kind and innocent memories of his childhood. He closed his eyes.

That night he would never forget. It was etched in his mind. Nothing could take that away, the drugs and alcohol a reminder of this sorry fact.

His eyes opened suddenly, with a furious flare in them. As he stood, a flash of light filled the room and his eyes closed again. When he opened them the low growling of the thunder reached and shook the complex.

His slender hands smoothed out his coat and he adjusted his tie. He picked it up from the table. Cold. Heavy. His arm held up in front of him, he stared at it. There was no emotion on his face. Just the creases around his eyes and the small scar on his jaw to tell you that he had been through a lot.

He cocked it. The sound liberating him from his fears. The fears of them coming back for him. He said he wouldn't let it happen, he was sticking to his word.

He walked across from the table and down the hall. It was bright. The artificial light soaking everything beneath it. His shoes echoed as he walked, his breathing, calm.

He reached a door at the end of the corridor. He reached for the handle. He grasped. He opened. Walking in he held the pistol out straight in front of him with his hands clenched tight. His finger touching the trigger, ready to fire.

"I hope you like it here, because you are going to be here for quite some time." He said with as much emotion as his leathery face dared to show.

*Crack, Crack*

The gun fire boomed through the complex, resonating down the corridor he came from. The two gold shells hitting the ground and rolling across the well buffed lino flooring.

A loud thud was the result. Blood seeped through his pant legs where he had shot him. His knees now giving him no mobility. His eyes looked up at the mans, so much pain in them. His breathing was fast and a muffled grown was all that could be heard through the blood soaked gag in his mouth.

"I'll be back soon to mop this up. Meanwhile, try thinking about what you have done". And with that said, the man turned and walked back down the corridor. The bright light streamed in on him as he lay there on the ground. He could not think. He knew he couldn't.

He lay there, looking down the corridor, at the bright light. It was what he left this world through.