"I'm watching you." He thought,
sliding the tip of his pencil
across the decaying wall.
"I'm watching all of you."
The pressure breaks the small twig.
Images of eyes condemned the broken palace.
Both guard and prisoner being cursed
by the child's anger.
It was a school of brats and pigs.
Just a huge fucking portrait of the world that would soon eat him alive.
His canvas. His hell.
His temporary world.