Pato

He rested his back on the tree behind him, his hands folded on his chest. He stared at his notepad with an intense look, chewing on his yellow pencil that sat peacefully between his chapped lips. He groaned, he moaned, he kept complaining. What more could he do to it? He just simply threw the notepad towards the front of his body, standing up and kicking it and stomping on it. He was a frustrated artist, and never a conformist. He needed perfection, and nothing gave him that. Not even the most beautiful person showing what they feel with tear stained cheeks and gloomy eyes, pleading for help. He loved capturing morbid things, there was no such thing as two love birds kissing, or perfectly shaped roses that were so perfect you could smell the scent they had the day they grew. He picked up the notebook and walked towards the door of this unholy place which he secretly loved. Today’s the first day of school, and he knew nothing will be out of the ordinary…But maybe just maybe, things might change and he will finally get what he thirst for. Inspiration.

He entered the school, watching every single human converse, laughing, screaming, even secretly staring at him while