Wolfram slammed the door shut, panting. The skeleton of the house trembled in his wake, Finnally easing. The wind howled outside like a wolf, desprate for its pack. The rain pounded against the windows, hard and fast. Thunder roared like a lion on its pride rock, loud and furious. Lightning snapped through the sky, sizzling flicker's following its wake. He leaned against the white wooden door, panting. He was now very aware of his surroundings. The thunder and rain. The large window on one wall, the only source of light coming from outside was the occasional sizzle of lightning. A small bed lamp sat on a small desk, flickering occasionally. A large, wooden dresser, and a bed. The room was white, with a light gray rug. His chest tightened, panic, fear, anxiety, rage, agony, pain and grief grabbed his chest, one emotion pulling him one way, the other another way. His heart thundered in his chest as he remembered the enchantress. Her eyes, so calm, yet full of fear as he held the knife at her throat. He remembered the feeling he felt from her, something he had felt only once before. His father. His manipulative, lying, good for nothing, excuse for a homo sapien of a father. He remembered the look in his fathers eyes. Full of hatred, disgust. Wolfram's throat tightened, strands of his raven black hair falling into his face. Slowly, he walked towards his bed. Suddenly, he whipped around, slamming a fist into the white wall, a snarl of enraged agony erupting from his throat. He punched the wall again, tearing the skin on his hand. He slammed the side of his fist against the wall, and he started sobbing, his forehead leaning against the wall. So,etching was ripping at his chest. Not physically, but emotionally. Something was almost calling him, but he didn't know what.I just want to be free of this pain. I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength or will to do it.
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