John Clare Alternate Ending
"No," Aiden cries to himself. Hugging his knees to his chest, sea salt continued rolling out his tear glands.
He hurls the book into the air— Vance's diary he received the day before yesterday — he left it on the floor and put his attention elsewhere.
Scanning the white walls that proceeded to drive him crazy, the sweat-drenched sheets, and the canopy which represented his sadness were his eyes. Barraging in his mind like a stampede were images; memories. Buzzing in his ears were words and regrets. They undoubtedly were horrifying aftershocks.
"Why?" Tears, sweat, and of course, a plastic memory greeted him in the morning. Like usual, his eyes stung and his hoarse voice pleaded for some time off. "Please let this be a nightmare."
The boy wished and wished and …show more content…
It used to be so bright and lively. Now it was withering, and the kaleidoscopic butterflies that once hovered over it became fat flies.
He cleaned the place with a broom he left on the ground last time he visited.
Yawning, due to his lack of sleep, Aiden got bored of sweeping and dropped the tool on the ground. He shoved his hands to the ends of his pocket, groaning when he couldn't locate that stick and lighter he was looking for, but he smirked a bit when it came into physical contact with his nails. He slipped the two between his fingers and pulled it out, lighting the tobacco, he wore it between his lips. Inhaling the cancer in with utter pleasure, he grinned.
This is getting tiring, he thought to himself, maybe I should get another batch of coke, or maybe, some crack, from Red Raven.
A while of ruminating later, Aiden coughed due to the dangers of the cigarette. Expectantly, he dismissed it and continued to hide behind the fag, letting the smoke linger on his lips. Exhaling, he watches his sorrows float and mix with the dark thunderclouds above. Afterwards, Aiden looked down the view
He hurls the book into the air— Vance's diary he received the day before yesterday — he left it on the floor and put his attention elsewhere.
Scanning the white walls that proceeded to drive him crazy, the sweat-drenched sheets, and the canopy which represented his sadness were his eyes. Barraging in his mind like a stampede were images; memories. Buzzing in his ears were words and regrets. They undoubtedly were horrifying aftershocks.
"Why?" Tears, sweat, and of course, a plastic memory greeted him in the morning. Like usual, his eyes stung and his hoarse voice pleaded for some time off. "Please let this be a nightmare."
The boy wished and wished and …show more content…
It used to be so bright and lively. Now it was withering, and the kaleidoscopic butterflies that once hovered over it became fat flies.
He cleaned the place with a broom he left on the ground last time he visited.
Yawning, due to his lack of sleep, Aiden got bored of sweeping and dropped the tool on the ground. He shoved his hands to the ends of his pocket, groaning when he couldn't locate that stick and lighter he was looking for, but he smirked a bit when it came into physical contact with his nails. He slipped the two between his fingers and pulled it out, lighting the tobacco, he wore it between his lips. Inhaling the cancer in with utter pleasure, he grinned.
This is getting tiring, he thought to himself, maybe I should get another batch of coke, or maybe, some crack, from Red Raven.
A while of ruminating later, Aiden coughed due to the dangers of the cigarette. Expectantly, he dismissed it and continued to hide behind the fag, letting the smoke linger on his lips. Exhaling, he watches his sorrows float and mix with the dark thunderclouds above. Afterwards, Aiden looked down the view