The time had come. It was time to embark on this new perilous journey. Was it scary? Yes. Was it important? Only to him. Did others understand? They didn't need to. This was his own personal journey through his past. Embarking on a journey to face his pain. It felt as if he were doing a dance with an embodiment of his fear and pain. In lavish ballrooms the dance commenced in silence. Saying it was one thing but going through with it was another. He felt like and infinitesimal speck in a gargantuan world. He was a Picasso. Broken pieces of him put back together in an abstract manner. Digging up the skeletons of his past. Opening the closet to memories he had worked to repress, mental hallways lined with memories. Cracked frames and shattered glass held the hurt, hanging on by a string staying up as long as it could before it broke. When they did break, the pain flooded in. Gouging out his heart leaving him broken once more. He was slowly sinking into a dark abyss, hoping for someone to pull him back up, crying out. But no one did. He laid as a wreckage of the boy he once was, a skeletal remnant of what once was. But soon, in the murky depths emerged a light, a lifeline. It grabbed him pulling him back up to the surface. He slowly shed the weight that encased his heart, regaining his buoyancy.
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Hope you enjoyed this one! I wrote this with Tommy's character in mind. I think it shows :]