[It's one of those cloudy days where it feels like a raindrop hits your face every second — though you're not really sure if it's rain or just the weather playing tricks. Still, I sit under a roof. I'd rather not get soaked by imagination or reality.
I'm coming back from school. I feel cloudy too — like my body's here, but my mind's wandering somewhere far off. There's a pounding in my chest, maybe in my stomach too. Or maybe it's just that crawling feeling — the one you get when you're not sure if you're about to throw up, or just fall apart in a different way.
I stay.
I wait.
But nothing happens. No sign of hope. No lights flickering on.
Just darkness — not the poetic kind, not the type that draws you in.
Just plain, tired darkness. The kind that's there simply because it is.]