Snippet #2313018

"Mom! Dad!" There are two people who stand out the most in a huge crowd. Tap, tap, tap, tap. There's a boy trying to catch up with them. But, the more he ran the further they had gotten. Then they are starting to get farther, farther, farther; farther away. But, the little boy he ran, he ran, he ran but, the more he ran the farther they got away. No there was no reason for the boy to give up but, they seemed so far away. He stood there in the middle of the large crowd, eyes and face filled with tears. Were they looking for him to or was it that they didn't care? So, he picked up on things that weren't very normal but, the things he had start doing was normal to him. Traveling from home to home, foster to foster, facility to facility; he knew none of them could handle him he was quite the problem. No one could stop the problems not even an asylum.

Death? Who would be fascinated with death? No one would be fascinated as much as Grant could. One time he wasn't feeling to happy having to travel from place to place, so he went to the nearest cemetery and layer down around the graves talking to himself and enjoying 'their' company. He wasn't crazy, well, maybe just a little bit and he still doesn't call that insulting, now he takes it as a compliment so almost everyone calls him crazy. The only thing he hated about himself is that he can never go to a family and expect them to be accepting who you are. But, none of them really knew how to take care of him since they realized they were to busy for a child or for him they would try to send him to a mental hospital and mental hospital unbelievably couldn't keep up with him either.

"What a wonderful piece of artwork this is. Oh yes it is, it is fantastic." This was the 7th time he would talk to himself today. He had a couple things wrong with him either it was spending the day with the dead or having a good conversation or two with himself. Holding up a skull with his right hand, loving everything and anything hep wished he had drawing experience then he wouldn't have to ask 'her' to draw anything he couldn't. It really sucked but, he rarely had a chance to talk to her without saying anything in a jitter nervous mess. Cold, pale, blue eyes focus on every single detail, each crack and stain on that beautiful piece of human being body part. "How many are there!? I have one, the rest are buried under ground." He knew he could get in trouble for having this in her but, he wasn't going to get caught any sooner. He knew how to hide things being the troublemaker that he is.

"I wonder if she's in her room. Lets hurry so they won't see me with this." Walking quickly down the halls, he was kind of nervous to talk to her. Well, he was actually pretty nervous talking to mostly everyone in this mental hospital. Walking to her room he took a very, very deep breath, and peeked inside the room, only popping his head out for her to see that it was him. "Um, Penelope." He jitters loud enough for only him and her to see. Being nervous as he is he popped his head away to take a deep breath once again. Popping his head back in.