Shake, shake, shake.
The sound of the ball hitting the inside of the can was entirely too loud. It seemed to come through to me very slowly, like when you can take in everything in a shot of adrenaline.
But I wasn't hyper, or pumped. I am anything but. The light liquid in the spray can kept sloshing around in my hand.
Everything seemed to come at me in a full view now a days. Like I'd only recently been using all of my senses in this life. Which when you think about it, is kind of true. When does a eighteen year old, or any child really, pay enough attention to take everything in?
I tugged off the cap to the paint and dropped it on my jacket beside me. The sun seemed to soak through my skin into my very being. Light was trying to devil into my squinting, green eyes. I sighed.
Carefully covering my mouth and nose with a gas-mask, I pushed down hard on the lid of spray paint and started to weave the delicate curves of an 'S' onto the brick wall facing me up. I outlined it pitch black twice, then stepped back.
No one was around to see me defacing public property. I should be thankful, I thought, and turned in a slow, complete circle. Every now and then a bare, scarecrow tree would disturb the barreness; I was the only sign of life for a good distance. I blinked to clear the slight dust swirling into my eyes.
Perhaps you're wondering just exactly how I got here.
Perhaps not. Either way, this is my story, and if you're reading this then you don't really have a choice in what is in here. You can stop now, if you want.
It's probably better if you do, in fact. You see, my story begins about five or so years ago; alot like this, when everything was quiet....