Eternal Road - Prologue (}[ Taite ]{)

Well, hello there. This is my first post EVER! Wow! I AM exited! Not because it's any good, but because I can finally share something with all of you! So here's the begining of my first story (well, re-writes of old stories of mine that weren't very good). I've also put this on my webpage. This is my first post, so can you please leave a reply, even if you say it's extremely bad you'd prefer to watch grass grow, and LIKE it. lol

The cold water flowed from the tap and into the bath where the young man sat, tears rolling down his face and then off into the water, lost forever. He held a glass of bourbon in his left hand, hanging over the edge of the bath. He had been drinking to release himself from the pain of his life. He was an unhappy person who felt that the world placed all the troubles it could onto his shoulders, depressing him, tormenting him. His life had come crashing down around him, as the walls of any fortress come crashing down on those defending it from a siege. He sat there for a time; just thinking of how good life had been just days, even hours, before and how it had all gone to hell in just a brief moment of time. He wished it had never happened, wished it all away. How am I to cope with this? He thought as the sat there, weeping, the tears stinging his face as they moved towards the icy water surrounding him. Why did this all happen? Why to me? Why? He searched for a long time, but found no answer in the relentless, torturing pitch black of night. He moved to take a sip of the bourbon that still occupied his near-empty glass, but as he raised it towards himself, it hit the side of the bath, slipped out of his hand and smashed against the floor, spreading out across the room as volcanic ash spreads from the point of eruption. Outside, the rain was pouring down on the earth. He heard the sound of it on the roof of the house and he liked it. It calmed him. Prepared him for what was to come. In his right hand laid a revolver. He had sat here with it for the past few minutes, looking at it, feeling it’s cold metal against his fingers. He wanted to use it, for he knew it could help him out of his prison of misery. Until now, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, no matter how desperately he longed to. He remained there for some time, pondering what to do next, what would come in the future. That was it, he decided, and placed the revolver in his mouth. He began to squeeze the trigger.

To be continued...