Loss
Although the birds begin to chirp outside his glass windows, on the bright sunny day at seven in the morning, Glen still rests on his bed. He has no spirit nor any will left to rise an inch from his spot. His chest beats silent whispers of longing for a person, someone he thinks he will never see again. Glen listens to the slow movement of his heart, wondering if he can still have the fiery energy to find the will to move forward in his life. Of course, he still wants to live, but can he still enjoy its every second. He must be ecstatic or leaping with joy after the series of constructed and planned luck that happened these past weeks. His greatest rival, Martin is now dead! The sharp knife which keeps stabbing his back is now gone. Everything Martin did to him is now paid, for without
- Writer
