x
The crack in the wall caught Milo’s attention as he felt the cold, rough pattern against his hand. It was early in the morning, the only sound that could be heard was his light breathing as he took in his environment yet again. Despite growing up within his enclosed room – he has never felt so safe before. The rooting wood floor that creaked with each step soon became his favorite pastime. Milo knew he needed to make a dent in the wall if he genuinely wanted to live, but the young man found comfort in his own space. Soon, time passed by – as it always does. People kept moving about in their daily lives, making friends, meeting their loved ones – time passed by for them. Yet for Milo, who sat in his room all day, time meant nothing. It got harder and harder for the teen to figure out what was reality and what was fiction – his mind playing games with him as he stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the soft fabric that his bed provided for him. The walls seemed to close in, however Milo found more comfort in this. Despite his mind screaming at him to get up, he lies in bed as more time passed. Seconds become minutes, minutes became hours, hours turned into days, and days, – turned into months. Milo resembled that of a rotting corpse, his dirty skin sticking into the bed like a parasite would to its host. The walls seemed to have gotten closer, so close that Milo could feel the pressure of the four frames against his bed. Yet the young male still didn’t have a desire to move. All the motivation, the desires that his classmates have – Milo never got. So, he stayed in his room during that past year, his body making a permanent dent into his mattress as the teenager couldn’t be at more peace with himself. As he closed his eyes one last time and felt the walls enclosed on his frail body. 185Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu6ecX2WIq7
185Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡie2ryOHOdv
185Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBLcPfnlj3S
