The sky is dead. (Open)

{Darox Lashe x District 3}

Sometimes weird questions or thoughts crossed Darox's mind.

What if we were all just teeny tiny people living on a piece of dust? There were people who think about completely different things - but Darox wasn't like anyone else, and nobody else was like anyone else. Even if two people have brown hair and blue eyes, they both won't have the same amount of intelligence, or talent, or dedication. But the one thing that separates most people is how they live their life. They could either stay alone and just let time pass by and darkness swallow them up. Or, people can just live, laugh, and love. Whatever way you chose, your life would never be the same. Darox chose the first option, he normally stayed alone and slit his pale wrists. He wasn't one to change his way of life because people thought what he did was stupid, he was the only one who could affect his life. His parents realized his pattern of staying inside, so they hissed at him and made him get outside. Darox trudged outside to the streets of District 3.

Did you ever stay inside for too long and when you see the sun your eyes sort of... sting? That happened to Darox. He Put his hand above his eyebrows to make some shade while his eyes were adjusting to the light. The only pool of light Darox saw for two days was inside his room in which the light floods through and reaches the gray dull carpet. It's really the brightest part of his room. He's used to being covered in blankets of shade and darkness - the sun wasn't really one of Darox's favorite thing. Darox had no save haven besides the book store which was only five minutes away from his small house. As he walked to the bookstore, his eyes were facing at his big feet which were kicking random rocks. As he spotted the bookstore, he grew anxious. He sort of liked reading. Though he had some better things to do. He sighed and opened the door and the smell of hot coffee and dust flooded into his nostrils.

The person at the door greeted Darox and asked if he wanted any coffee. "Eh- no thanks, coffee isn't really my thing." he replied. Darox didn't really like coffee, plus, he had some orange juice this morning before he got pushed out of his own home. Darox was pretty sure the person at the door - with the red beard which disgusted Darox and no hair - was going to ask him if he wanted anything else, but he rudely rushed over to where all the books were. He goes and grabs a book - one about the history of Panem - and sees that most of the tables are full. He spots one that only has a boy with a scar along his face. "Mind if I si-." Darox was going to ask a question but he was interrupted by a boy. “I’m Hash and you are?” Darox was surprised, he barely said four words and the kid was standing up and holding his hand out. Darox reaches out and shakes the boy's - Hash's - hand awkwardly. He doesn't really shake hands with too many people.

"Hello... my name is Darox. I live in District 3 - obviously. Nice to meet ya'. Uhm- Mind if I sit next to you? I mean, only if you don't care, or anything. Yeah..." Talking - just like shaking hands - was something Darox did rarely, so his voice was rough and awkward, and seemed to drag on, as if each word were connected by its last syllable. Darox hoped his weird way of talking didn't scare Hash. He doubted it would, but it might make him look stupid. I'm such an idiot, I said I lived in District 3. Where else would I live, in the bottom of the ocean?! Darox hated messing up, it made him look like a fail. But he may be a fail, but at least he admitted his life was going nowhere but downhill. Some people were so naive it annoyed Darox. He hated when people were all like, "Come on guys! We can do it if we try!" Maybe it was the people who said stuff like that annoyed Darox, but he thought it was the actual phrase.

As Darox was standing up, he saw the coffee on the table. You could see the steam rising up from the coffee, looking like it was a bunch of ghostly spirits escaping from the heat of the dark brown beverage. Hid thoughts were often weird. Sometimes, when it was raining, he thought the clouds were crying. And when the sun went down and the moon went up, the two outer-space objects were just playing a never-ending game of hide-and-seek. Nobody ever thought the same way as the next person. No one was exactly the same as anybody else. Which leads to my first thought, no one will ever be even similar to Darox Lashe.