#metafour

The world was taunting him. He hated how everything was endless, how everything began but had no satisfying conclusion. Life went in tedious cycles of adrenaline, and as appealing as it was with little time left to hypothetical thoughts, his slight depression

  brought a new bout of questions. He wasn't fleeing the streets- he was fleeing his thoughts. He was fleeing those stupid routines of no routine. He was fleeing something and he wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the thought of never.

  His fingernails dug in, releasing a satisfying crunch of nail against wood. A restrained anger began to seep between his bones, losing control with every heartbeat, aggression displayed in every movement. Something in his mind warned him, warned

  him to step back, to step back and calm down his heart. His gaze dropped to his hands, so that he could assure himself he had indeed released the tree, its soft bark marred by his nails, the mahogany bark peeling. Redwood. Release. Breathe. Step back. Retreat.

  Retreat. He insisted to himself that he must retreat before his anger exploded, so he turned and ran. He found a public restroom, a school, his high school, was it? The water was running before he could realize what had happened and he kept it running, staring