You were busy typing.
It's not your usual time of day to write, but writing you were.
Eighteen's a sure age for anybody to write full time on just about anything. Legal age for porn, legal age for drinking. Ditchin your parents, and...
And, as you pick up the needle, not exactly the legal age for drugs.
You see, your family had divorced a few years ago, and because of that you were forced to move out of the house, not wanting to be involved in the dispute between father and mother. Not as though they really did care for you, as a matter of fact.
Each of you went your seperate ways.
You moved to warm, sandy beaches, your mother stayed in Hazard, and your father, (for some mysterious reason or other) ditched the country.
You looked at the needle, and put it one side...
Started to continue on your story.
It was raining outside, hard. The wind was hammering at the windows and you could hear the tiles on the roof starting to rip loose, but couldn't bring yourself to care really. You're here, and nothing will ever tear you away from where you were, not that you knew exactly where you were either.
Suddenly you saw a purple flash of light, and stopped, for just a moment.
Looking up, you noticed another purple flash...
"What the hell?"
Must be the drugs.
Then, it struck you, all the dazzling colors of the rainbow, all the songs going through your mind, and...
ironically enough...
you remembered a word you didn't see in a long time.
A word of a World you created about two years ago, when your parents started to divorce...
Scope.
And, darkness claimed you...
You hear birds singing, you see light. You feel hard board behind your back, painfully you flinch. If this was your room, your place... where's the roof?