Outsiders
I lost all appetite when I realized that my world may fall apart during that movie scene; the boys climbed out of the Ferrari and entered the tall building together. I felt as though the dark dreams I used to have were coming to life in front of me. The rap music was playing in the background, smoke was flying in the air- left, right, and centre. No one knew that the building held weapons inside, just incase one with authority told the boys they could not operate their lifestyles as they chose to: No one was to stop these boys. This group was mentally sick and internally submissive to their depression.
A woman was no one to these gentleman, no one to heat their frozen emotions once again. She could put in her stereotypical tears and plug away with pieces of her scarcely remaining broken heart at the souls of these gentlemen and still, she would not reach their core. These men were a clique with eyes barely opening wide enough to see the beautiful features this woman may potentially carry to sway their minds from their ultimate destination. However, if an outsider was to give them a pen and paper to write down their life purpose and save their own life, none of these boys could jot down a single letter with confidence.
Every boy would yearn to go to the washroom from the classroom hoping that another one of the fellas would be there and they could ask each other for the answer: the answer of their PURPOSE in life. Time and time again, the clique would fail together, escape jail, get caught, and fail the test all over again. Time and time again, the clique would laugh over their useless years gone by, cry over the sinful history they viewed on the internet, and hop back into the Ferrari to head to that building.
Poor woman, you poor woman. I pray for you, being on this side of the mirror.