Thomas

Thomas wiped the paint off his face. He had no idea how but he'd managed to get paint on his face again.'Was I painting my face? Might as well be' Thomas thought. It wasn't like the paint was helping his mural at all.

”Fuuuck…" Thomas groaned as he rested his head against the wall next to the mural. It really was awful. It didn't matter how it looked though just as long as it...
.
..was there.

Thomas's stomach churned for what felt like the hundredth time in just a minute. The last wave of pain hit him like a sledge hammer causing him to lose balance. Thomas dropped and turned in time to avoid the mural.

The Fucking Mural...

It really was a piece of shit drawing but Thomas needed something to be there or anywhere.

There had be something there or else... or else...

Unable to use his hands, Thomas worked his way up to his feet. His hand was shaking again. 'Of course my hand’s shaking', Thomas thought through what felt like a gritted brain, tensed up to block out the thought of the near future. "What future?" Annoyed Thomas spat at the mural before mixing the colors on his stand and painting over the bubbly mucus and phlegm that centered the god awful image.

There was a sound up ahead. The all too familiar sound of a metal frame getting slammed by a metal door. The pang of pain switched itself off and for only a second Thomas felt relief.

Maybe everything was going to be alright; maybe this piece of shit would mean something to someone and I'd live forever as a part of something...

The pain returned moving up to his ribs. Thomas ran as fast as he could. Vomit projected it's self out of Thomas's mouth. Letting itself be seen by floating in the air before letting itself be heard by hitting the base of the toilet seat with a sickening splash. Only about a tenth of the spew made it into the actual toilet. Not that it mattered. He wouldn't have to look at it much longer anyway. Another metal door slammed against a metal frame. It sounded much closer this time. The stench of his vomit hit his nostrils turning his stomach once more.

Thomas vomited again. Ridding himself completely of the bacon, egg and hamburger made extra crispy with a ton of lard. "Just the way mama used to make it" Thomas said grinning painfully watching it diffuse in the seat.
Thomas made his way to the sink and filled it with water. He stared over the sink. There was supposed to be a mirror there but there wasn't. Only cement. A drop of sweat splashed onto the water. Thomas didn't pay heed to it until a flash of crimson caught his eye. The sink was red. Another ruby drop fell from his face hitting the centre of the sink causing perfect ripples in the water.
It was then that the true finality of what was to come hit him. He dropped his face into the water washing himself clean. He didn't deserve to sweat blood. He was no son of god and he wasn't going to act like one. The sound of metal doors came once again this time from right behind Thomas. One solitary tear fell to the ground. It started clear but became crimson falling to the ground alone. A true reflection of what it meant to be Thomas Grey.

Thomas washed the puke and blood off him. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. Thomas was turned and faced a beady eyed guard with an indifferent priest next to him. Great I'm going straight to hell, Thomas thought looking at the priest who seemed determined not to make eye contact. 'You can't catch my darkness pastor!' was what Thomas wanted to yell but the guard truncheon suggested otherwise.

Thomas was shunted out of the cell and led to his final destination. The priest rattled on like someone who really wanted to get this over with. Thomas ignored him as best as he could.
"What's gonna happen to my mural?"
"Does it matter? We'll probably wipe it off and leave it open for the next child murderer who comes for a stay."
Thomas sighed, he probably deserved that.
"Typical" Thomas sighed again using his shoulder to wipe another solitary tear that dissolved into nothing.

Another perfect reflection of the life of Thomas Grey.