The room was the world. That was the beginning of the end, everything he knew and would ever know. His mind shrank just like his body did.
Dead things lying around.
He was the only one breathing among them. Breathing slowly, silently, impossibly. His dreams were dead too. He has been alive for a while, but lived a life of never making it, never having that impulse to fight for his own life. He never got to feel alive and happy to be here, in this world.
He was tired of living, tired of being himself. The breathing body couldn't do anything but wait for life to sneak out of it. He was born a failure, his mother told him. He has been failing all along.
He never tried to understand why.
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