Behind the stripes

The only comforting thought that provoked his will to live on was that an ending can be put on everything. The state he put himself in was unpleasant yet temporary, and he was aware that he ought to push forward. There was a way in which he could become his future self. However, first he had to survive with the demon dwelling inside him.

At that point, he could safely claim that nobody knew him any longer. He couldn't describe himself as the inquisitive boy with promising sparks in his eyes. Nor could he be regarded as the charismatic, well-featured adolescent he used to be. Both his family and friends would be astonished to discover that the man he is today had been their blue-eyed boy. Nobody would guess that the stray man perching in the corner of an unpainted room was once a person of moral character and remarkable integrity.

What often raced through his thoughts was the fact that he wasn't acquainted with himself anymore. Fairness and honesty were once the strongest ascpects of his nature. Yet traits of his that were most worth envying were also the ones that brought him to his knees.

And what remained after are coughs, bitterness following every breath and a blurry vision that couldn't distinguish prison bars from the foggy stripes he perceived.