The Trail

I was walking up the stairs, slowly, one step at a time, I could feel the vibrations coming from the staircase which were created by the weight of my body and amplified by my boots. While I was very slowly trying to reach my destination, my room's door, I became aware of how anguishing and sad it was to slowly walk up the stairs, the only thought of it making me even more tired, as if I had something attached to my back. Step after step I have arrived, exhausted, to my room by now, I looked at the frame of my PC, which was still on but with its monitor switched off, the guitar and the desk were illuminated only by the feeble light coming from the clouded sky through the window's dirty glass which was situated over my study-and-play table. When I was reached my chair, I turned around, I saw that the trail of blood stained the entire floor.

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