Decent: Pt IV: SleepSleep, sleep child, sleep,
The more you sleep the less you weep
Close your eyes, forget the day
Let your worries melt away.
The darkness comes, you understand,
Every night to transcend the land.
The darkness comes, not so you may fear,
The darkness comes so you may understand. . .
The sleep I rocked into was a strange type of sleep. It was a fearful sleep; a dazed, hazy, and almost happy sleep. A sleep that brought back my self-conscience, brought back the silly, senseless fear. Fear of the dark. Fear of being alone. Such senseless little fears; "old-world" fears, as I had began to refer to them. But strangely enough, they brought another fear with them in that deep, almost corpse-like sleep; they brought me the fear of sleeping alone in this new, broken world. After all of the starving nights that I had crawled under some heap of rubble in the wastelandic nights that chilled me to the bone, that froze me in a half-dead state where I lay
Decent: Pt III: PrecursorI remember the world as it was; before the war. I never had a reason to care for anything except my own future. Nothing else in the world quite mattered yet; I couldn't understand politics,I didn't know why things became so expensive, then suddenly became cheap again, I couldn't comprehend just why my parents always complained about not having enough money; we had a roof over our heads, water in the sinks and showers, and enough electricity for me to watch Tom and Jerry after school when I got home. However, my condition didn't make things any easier.
By the time I reached middle school, I dearly felt sorry for my parents, having to put up with that, though the older i got, the more subdued my condition seemed to become. But on the off occasion that did bubble to the surface again, my fits were violent.. My medications also helped. . . every now and again. People used to think I was normal, too, until they found out about my condition,