Cat and Mouse.

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Cat and Mouse.  Empty Cat and Mouse.

Post by Zabago on Wed Jul 11, 2012 9:52 pm

Rand paced the floor ostentatiously. It was his third day here, and he hadn't had a single ounce of luck fall in his direction. He just kept the rhythm going. Thump, thump, thump, thump, twist, thump, thump, thump, thump, twist. His black shoes pounding on the wood flooring of the amphitheater. He watched, wary of anything that could trip him, and kept his beat. His cloudy eyes would flash to the painted walls, to see the flecks of paint and grime slowly deteriorating and peeling. There was a bit of mold along the floor in some such places. But none of that deterred the rhythm it was in a moment such as this that he realized, he didn't know why he was pacing the floor anymore. He stopped and turned abruptly, his fingers coming to his chin thoughtfully. He could feel slight pricks from regrown hair, and made a note to shave again. Nobody liked hanging around a kid with a white beard at such a young age. Freak, they called him. Santa Clause. He'd tried to die his hair once. It never came out right. It always had a white sheen to it, and it caused him to wonder why he even tried. Some times openly. Only to laugh and pretend as though it was a joke with himself, at least to taunt the bullies. But, Even when he came here, things didn't change. He was still looked at funny. Still pushed out of the way, knocked over, ignored, bullied. In three days, he'd already received a bruise just about everywhere, although they faded quickly. His skin was good at that. It didn't show his pain. His blood pumped fast, so he healed faster. So he looked practically brand new every day. And people despised him for it. He shook his head suddenly, clearing his thoughts, and turned to repeat the rhythm he had succumbed to. It was on the third repeat, that he noticed he was being watched. He turned to face his stalker. Nobody. Nothing there at all. I'm losing it, he thought to himself, when did I get so paranoid. He went back to pacing again, trying to remember what had actually started his rhythm. Lost in thought, his rhythm broke, and he walked into a brand new area. His sweat began to chill the back of his neck, as he recognized the dull hum of the air conditioner. He noticed how hot it truly was without it. His clothes hindered his every move, and clung to him like wraith's trying to claw their way out of hell. He sighed, and sat down, suddenly wrapped in thoughts of the weather. The very reason of his pacing lost to him.


Posts : 4
Join date : 2012-07-10

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