• He swung his legs, sitting on the kitchen table, no tears were being shed but screams howled in his mind, knowing not how to cope with the situation at hand, that's all he could do. Never had he been through such a thing, nor should anyone.

    As a child, his mind was what the system rated as above human, all he heard was he was better than the rest, his ease with school was astounding, treated like a God, he acted like one, not a thing went unknown to him, he knew everything that happened around him. At his young age he knew that rainbows were not the sky smiling, but the sky weeping while it tries to shine, to not look sad, he knew the ocean wasn't peaceful, kissing the beach, it was angry, slapping the earth. The moon wasn't romantic, the moon was lonely, standing there, wanting nothing else but the love of the sun.

    To him, everything was clear, this world was not for the likes of him, his mind transcended this world, built for the foolish who were happy with knowing but not understanding, he felt not like a fish out of water, instead he felt like a sword, being handled by an harmless man, who wanted not to use it.

    This wasn't his world, he knew he didn't belong, even though below him, he loved his family composed of fools, his sister, happy with pretending the dolls were alive, his mother who was unhappy, purposely doing things she didn't like, namely cleaning the house when it was already spotless. His father, who was at peace with the life he chose, though he wished for a better one.

    Climbing off the table, he walked where he first came from, his mother's blood. Walking by the seed that brought him here, his father's blood, jumping over the love that nurtured him, his sister's blood.

    Kneeling on the floor he looked outside the bloody window, the man wearing blue already stood outside, waiting for him, threatening him with death with loud speakers if he would not come peacefully. He didn't consider a threat that which he most wanted.

    He knew where religion stood, no matter which, suicide was considered an act that'd prevent you to go where you wanted to go, even more than liberating his family's soul from their bodies. He knew what he had to do.

    He wasn't a religious boy, but he knew there must have been something beyond that world, a place where he belonged. Where all like him could co-exist. Stepping outside he raised a gun, pointing it at the person who was screaming, over ten shots were heard, all placed in his chest. He had no bullets, he was a threat to none of the ones who were in front of him, he did not want to take them to where he wanted to go. His last moment before his lungs filled with the blood that motioned him were of happiness, finally he was at peace, knowing he had to be in that world, no more.