Happiness is only a camouflage for what resembles insanity...madness.. His reasoning was good. It was true and anyone else who would take the time to ask, to understand, would do the same. Faking something is better than to show what feelings are true.. for those truthful feelings may just harm those close, those around...

    Dmitry sat there... in total darkness... Something he once feared he now embraces. He sat there at a small dark wooden desk with a knife, carving things into it. The carvings were pictures, pictures that represented his feelings....

The room was pitch blackness. A boy sat in the utmost darkest corner, even though it seemed not to be. He sat there in silence, afraid of his own voice to awake the monsters of his life. Everywhere voices could be heard, calling him, crying, screaming in the eternal black. The boy just sat there, shaking slightly. He felt lonely.. depressed and saddened. What has his world come to? Lightning struck, the flash revealing a bloody scene in the room. A woman and a man where lying on the floor, blood was smeared all over the floor. The boy stared at what used to be his parents. Why had he done it?...