He looked out the window, looking out upon the world spread before him. His dull eyes lifelessly trailed the lines and curves and the bleak color decorating life. The sun had not peaked the far horizon yet, only colors of lightless gray showing. Dark clouds ran away from the coming sun, showing the remnants of the night�s stars. All life outside breathed coldness, and he was struck with how like the weather was his mood.
He moved quietly away from the window, moving into the safe darkness of his apartment window. Small amounts of meager light struggling through his open window was not enough to brighten neither the room nor his mood. He sat silently in a rough chair in the far corner. He sighed and rested his arms on the chair and let his head fall back. As he let his muscles go he let everything go in the cold and palpable darkness of his room.
The loud sound of a car rolling by his open window broke the peaceful silence that had descended. Hid closed eyes snapped open, angrily darting to the window. The car drove by, making its sounds, taking away the peace, which he so needed. He glared out his window as the interruption drove out of sight, leaving him once again alone with his anger and destroyed peace.
He felt hate towards the driver, hate towards the person who interrupted peace. It had become hard for him to find peace, harder than previous days. As time went on peace had become less frequent and more fragile like the wings of a butterfly.
Perhaps he should just climb back into his bed, his own little safe haven in a world of chaos. He could just fall asleep, fall into darkness so complete that nothing could disturb him. The day would go by, not missing him, unchanged�
He glanced once more into the gray world before leaving his dark bedroom. His living room was no darker nor lighter. The window here was also open but the dark curtains, which wavered ever so gently in the slight breeze, blocked the view of the outside world.
His eyes floated through the half-darkness, looking, just looking.
The room was cluttered with the mess he had made the night before. He had come home, his spirit weary, looking for solace, only to find broken peace and sadness. He had felt hopeless and without a shred of joy last night, and so he had rampaged through his apartment. But he had found no solace in destruction that had been created by rage, only an emptiness, which had crept into his heart and taken root.
Now standing here among shattered dreams and lost words, he felt those horrible feelings once again creeping into his mind and soul. He felt sadness first and foremost, a heavy sadness which knew no bounds. He felt hopeless and swamped in despair, no longer knowing where to go or what to do. All he wanted to do was lie and sleep, and maybe never wake to the light of day again.
And with the thoughts of sadness and faithless hopelessness came loneliness, the fate to all those who lead a solitary life. He was used to being alone, but every now and then he wished otherwise, and every now and then knew the true meaning of being lonely. He wished for the love he felt would never come and never did. He wrapped his arms about his chest, trying to chase away the feeling, which was taking all warmth away.
He shuddered and sank to his knees, still desperately squeezing his chest. He could feel tears begin to come, small at first, but soon with a horrendous force that wanted to be let out. He gasped and shook his head, trying to dispel the tears, which he felt too near. But the action did not help, the emotions still pulling the tears.
But as the corner of his eye caught the brown object, the tears disappeared, the emotions abating like the tide of a sea. He focused his sore eyes, tinged red, upon the object hanging on the wall not too far away. The details of the object came into focus as his eyes traced the straight, hard lines. It was a small cupboard hanging on the wall, the hard wood painted black. The object captured his eyes while forcing some of the emotions away, bringing for the moment a sense of peace.
He climbed to his feet, slowly, as if his limbs were alien to him. He breathed a deep sigh before making his way across the floor to face the cupboard. His feet stopped a few feet before, leaving him to stare at the plain doors. He slowly pulled them open, letting the grayish light into the area inside.
The black object, darker than his dreams, silently stared out at him without eyes, tempting him. His hand trembled as he laid his stiff fingers upon the cold metal. He could almost feel another pulse; an alien beat within the cold material, matching his own. He remembered with blurred memory the day he had taken the gun home, the first day the thought to buy one came. He had walked out of that store feeling strangely content. Ever since then the gun had sat in his cupboard, the rays of sunlight never touching its polished surface.
He grasped the gun in his hand, forcing his fingers to make a sensible grip. He walked slowly back to the center of the room, all the while looking down into his hand, looking at the gun which whispered so many promises. He stopped, facing the direction of the window, and slowly raised the gun. When it became level with his temple, he pushed the barrel against his skin, as if the contact would help. He closed is eyes, but soon found the darkness too hard to bear. So instead he focused his eyes on the gently moving curtains in the gently moving breeze.
Soon everything would end. All the suffering, all the loneliness, all of the ruined peace would be like leaves on the wind, drifting softly ever on. Darkness, which carried such a sense of peace and acceptance, would ensue, taking away all of the horrible color of his present state.
He steadied himself, wishing his heartbeat would slow and his breathing even out. He prepared his mind for what to come, but at the last moment he felt fear. With his finger on the trigger, he hesitated, wondering why he would be feeling fear. Yes, he would be leaving all behind, all of the bad, and what little of the good still remained. He felt no regret, no sadness in leaving, and yet, he felt fear.
Something past the curtains caught his eye. A strong breeze suddenly snapped the curtains apart for a brief moment, but that was enough for his tired eyes. He had seen the rebirth of the old sun greeted by the birth of the new day before the curtains had fallen back. The sun drove away the colorless and gray light.
His hand dropped to his side, all but forgotten. The gun, the weapon, and the enemy fell down onto the floor with a quiet thud. He did not even notice the gun had fallen, did not even notice how quickly it took for him to make it to the window. He pulled the curtains aside, letting the sun�s rays splash warmth across his naked chest. The warmth felt so satisfying, so wonderful, that it surprised him. This was the same sun he met with everyday, but on this day it meant everything.
A small smile came to his thin lips as the song of birds trailed up to his waiting ears. He threw a jacket over his bare shoulders and took a walk outside beneath the sun; rejoicing with his new found knowledge of the sun, all the while watching the vivid colors of life.
