Innocent He sat in his black office chair, a cheetah fur age of 16. the chair was new, he a little handel on it to make it go up and down. It was a felt chair with a sort of netting over it. He laid his glasses out infront of him, looking at the computer screen, at what he just wrote. A small little story about a young person... who had inner troubles more then most could grasp. Many may say that they wen't throught worse, being beat up or attacked. Being made fun of daily. He'd been made fou of alot, by people who where either jelous or just plain assholes. He hated them all. His rough black and red hockey jersey felt like his soul at the moment. A Canadian symbol with a hockey player in the middle, just underneath Bearing the words "Canada: Nike Skills Development Program" His pants grey and his navy blue fire fly shoes where all belnding into his surroundings. A dark little office room, with the window open, but the curtin spread across. Oh so innocent... once Oh so loving... once He got up, his deep brown hair withs its little curls... he wanted it to grow gine and long... not curley. His eyes where shades of greay, some times blue or Aqua. he scratched his head as he grabbed a glass of pepsi and finnished it off. walking out of the little office into his own room, a mess, a pig sty. he felt like hie heart was being tore out of him little by little as he thought. He returned to the office and began to type again. Once, he beared a brightly colored jersey of the St. Lous Blues. a piar of black Cargos, and tan shoes. his hair shorter and his tail, more fluffy. Now his fur was just neatly flattend, and slicked. thoe little white wings of innocence where his mose fond memory, but they had transformed into lard Dark wings, Blue on top gonig down into pitch black. He had a go-tee growing in, it wasent much now though. His black nose wiggled as he typed more. He paused for no reason and sat on the ground. He looked and started singing his favorite song. "its haunting" his voice harmonious "How I cant seem..." he paused and leand back in the little space he had "to find myself again... " He sat up and reached out foward and touched the wall." my walls are closing in..." He felt horrible in a sense. He knew how people he knew had went through much worse. Bu the world did not know how innocent he really was at one point. white wings angel wings ... dark wings fear wings he crawled back into his chair slowly and maknig it look painful. He reached of his drawing paper and grabbed a pencil. He started sketching out the poses with circles then the circles turned into two figures. one tall on standing, and a smaller one sitting behind him. The tall one had big dark wings, covering over the little one, and the little one had white wings. Just streached behind him. he picekd up his glasses and put the drawing away, feeding it into the paper shreader. He was still him somewhere.. inside, but for now, all he could do is sit by the reflection of his old self. "fuck" he mutterd and he curled up in the chair, looking at the monitor, still typing away with two hands. He looked down and the ground "what right do I have to feel bad... They say good things of me... they say how good I look or how fortunate I am that these things do not happen to them... but why then... why do i feel so tired and sad?" Today was the first day of the new school, a 2nd year at high school. Today was the day he started wrighting this little story. Maby he was still himself, but the little fading immage behind him made him think he could never be that anymore. Maby insdie he was still him... but untill he remembered how to grow the wings of an angel, he would be stuck in the current fear and mentality of his dark wings. "I just wanna go back" he said quivering in his chair, shivering. "why can't I be him anymore?" he said with tearful eyes "why..." he hung his head as he read and replied to the little conversations of Yahoo or Aim chat servers. With friends... and one special person... how ment his world. He kept his happy mask on to them. But was honest to the special one... He finally said goodnight, at 10 in the night. He had to sleep so he could get up in th morning. he left the office and went to his room right next to the office. He curled up on his bed, and reached over to the big black Stereo and clicked on his favorite CD. He lay there for a bit, listing to a song over and over again. he took off all his clothes and tossed them on a back chair, standing infront of his dresser he pulled opn a drawer and pulled out a pair of plaid paints. He put them on and slapped on a black T-shirt, a big one. He curled up in his bed. Thinking again, "They say the best animal that described that character... was a cheetah. Proud and Noble. Fast and Strong. Honorable... why do i feel none of this?" He shiverd in his bed, the purple curtin waved back and forth in the air. The window slightly open, The pictures of tigers on his wall moved side to side. He curled up grasping his pillows for life practically... a not so happy end to a not so happy story a real end to a day in reality So this is where the sotry ends... wtih a sleeping Cheetah, and the rememberance of a young Kitty. This is how the clock ticks, in my viens, its 10:00 and i have to get ready for school... good night to those who read this. Come back, Maby there will be more some day, maby even happy. Maby not. It all depends on life.