A Perfect Circle

The young teen took in a deep breath, inhaling the cold air that made his asthma want to choke him, but he resisted with a grin, gazing up to the cold sky. "Do you feel that?" he questioned, to which his shadow shook his head to. "Then you're not there yet, my friend! You're not there. We got to out the door again, it's been to long. Oh wait, we just did, didn't we?" He shrugged, pulling out the Espada knife, flicking open it's cold, stainless steel. Perfect in condition, shining in reflection, he spun his hand around to balance it on it's handle, watching the knife stay upright as he slowly shifted around in the moonlight. One of the many useless talents, a cliche of a human being. A knife master, yet what teen didn't play with knives? Or rather, which did? He used to think it was the serial killers that did such an act, but that's not true. He may be crazy, but he could never kill one but the horrible.

It takes a lot to be in his position, and he had to lie to get where he is. Lying to get what he craved, lying to get what he needed. And what did he need? He needed to keep sane, just like everybody on this blasted planet.

The blade tumbled out of his hand, slicing the side ever so slightly as it landed on the wet grass. The rain had been pouring down, but the empty person had not noticed. He picks it up without even to check his hand for injury, knowing the water will wash it away. Even as he did not know it was raining, he knew there was water. And in such a state, it felt like he was drowning, and it was oddly calming.

The thunder rumbled in the distance as he looked at the blade, before riskily tossing it up into the air with the blade still out, letting it flip a couple times before catching it by the handle with seemingly ease. He closed his eyes, thinking once again of how quick life could be. He wondered if the knife was not risky enough, if he should go yell at some people. If he should go climb the rooftops. If he should play tag with cars.

The demons has surrounded him. They were friends with his shadow, as they came often. But they never touched the boy, for the halo around his head shown too brightly. It was often that people would notice this, as the boy would give it all away for another. He would give it all away and never ask for a dime, besides his simple pleasures of music. But the demons did nothing to stop him, for they watched the halo above his head. It was as deadly to him as he never realized, and none of his friends realized either. The halo would wrap one day around his neck, it just needed to slip down. It's light would turn to thorns, and the stabs would slash into his neck, the crimson liquid would stain all of him, and all around him. His hopes and dreams would mean nothing, and he wouldn't die to anyone's fault. There would be nothing to do about it, and nothing ever would be done about it.

And he would be dead.

And it would be over.


And he would be gone.


It would be over.




The boy blinked, staring around.

He saw all of this imagery, and he looked down to the demons around him, that grabbed at his legs. "Are you all such fools!?" he yelled at them aggressively. The demons had not expected such a thing from this boy, and they quickly backed off. "You really think this halo above my head would do that? You think of such?" He reached above his head, and pulled the halo away from him with force, disconnecting the light that shown from it. "This is nothing. This is worth dry dirt. I am worth dry dirt in the eyes of the world! EVERYBODY IS WORTH THAT!" He screamed in anger, spitting at the demons. "YOU THINK MY DEATH WOULD BE THAT OF MY HALO, WHEN THE WORLD IS TO BE ENDED ITSELF! The gods above scream this to me in my silent moments! It speaks to everyone! You people of the world, all those nights of you questioning life is that of the gods! They are there, and they know of the fate to come! We do not have a hundred years, and yet you all live like everything is okay! ALL of you do! The religious, the single, the disconnected, the millionaires, the leaders, the poor, the teachers, the kids, the ENTIRE WORLD! You all think this water and food will be here forever, yet you can't see from the sun in your eyes! All be consumed and none shall survive, and the only hope to survival is to move! Just run away from it, you fools! Just pray your prayers and run away! There is no hope, you have doomed us all! This is not the age to live in! I am the child of the ignorant and the blind, and it shows in the timer that ticks away on our world! These knives are nothing," he said as he tossed the knife blindly at a nearby house, the blade sticking sharply into it's planks. "Nothing is okay, and NONE OF YOU CAN REALIZE THAT!" He cursed several times, screaming loudly into the night, before collapsing with weak knees onto the wet ground, curling up into a ball and crying. And on that night, the demons had no work to do as the boy had already broken himself, and not even his shadow dared to stay with him as everything left the boy to cry, tear, and break himself even further.

It would be over.