A Room With Walls That Make No Sense [Applyfic] CLOSED

Chapter One༄

When was the last time I cried?

Soura found himself asking that question lately. He knew the answer, he just struggled to believe it. He should've cried a lot more since then, but he supposed he'd made up his mind not to cry after the last time.

He was ten, and his parents had just gotten divorced. There had been a whole battle over which one of them got legal custody of Soura. It had torn him apart. He cried for days on end, often in public. Kids found it amusing. Some seemed to pity him. Soura didn't care, because his anguish was so overwhelming that he had no reason to bother paying attention to anyone else.

His mother won the battle. He never cried harder than the day he was told he wasn't allowed to stay with his father. But after that day he never cried again. He stopped caring. Nothing and no one mattered to him, not even himself. He got in all kinds of trouble for his "delinquent behavior".

"You're such a disappointment... why did I ever want to keep you...?" His mother often asked. Soura would just shrug and simply reply, "I didn't ask for you to."

He'd had fourteen different therapists over six years and rejected them all after a few months or so. He'd been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and he'd been to several places for his apparent "anger issues".

Soura thought that was a funny term. "Anger issues". Because he wasn't really angry, he didn't really feel at all, yet the world interpreted it as anger. Why? Because they didn't understand what he thought or felt. He knew no one could ever truly understand what he was thinking and feeling. Only he could do that, no matter how similar someone was to him. But sometimes... he wished someone would bother to listen to him. Just so they'd know why he did the things he did.

Screw it, I don't care.

He was currently wandering around the city. School had let out and hour before, and he was doing whatever he could to stall on going home.

The city was full of people, everywhere. And despite it being huge, news still spread fast. People knew Soura. Soura knew them. People didn't like Soura. Soura didn't like them.

That was the way he liked it. At least that way people would leave him be.

Every now and then he'd listen to what they had to say about him. He found it funny.

"Maybe he just wants attention?"
Some would say. That wasn't completely true, but he did want someone to pay attention to him, and not in the bad way. But that wasn't he acted the way he did.

"He might be in a gang, I think most people I gangs act like that."
Soura laughed every time he heard that one. He definitely wasn't in a gang. People couldn't stand him on his own, gangs wouldn't want him either.

"Must have something going on at home. That would explain why he takes everything out on everyone else."
... ok that one was close to home. That was probably the closest anyone had gotten.

However, his all time favorite was, "You think he's on drugs?"

I think people who are on drugs enjoy their life a little more? While they're high at least.

He continued to wander the city. He paused outside a shop to watch three kids run around. They looked to be about ten. Their parents followed behind them, smiling.

"Come on! My mom said we could get ice cream if the shop isn't closed yet!" One of them said. A boy with short, blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. The second laughed, "We're coming, we're coming!"

They shot down the street, the third of their group calling for them to wait for him. They laughed, glancing back at him as they ran.

Soura was so caught up in watching them - and they were to caught up in looking back at their friend - that he didn't realize they were literally about to run into him.