Mind if I sling a quick blurb to a concept of mine by you guys?
A tall, well dressed man of about 18 years of age with scruffy, medium length blonde hair sits slouched on an empty, derelict train carriage. It's dark outside, deeply dark and it keeps playing on his mind. He can't see the dark as such, he can barely open his left eye and his right is laden with blood from his head. In fact a lot of his person is bloodied and bruised. He's breathing heavy now, really heavy. It's not easy breathing with broken ribs. Every hard drawn breath reminds him that, even if it's only for short while, he is still alive. In his right hand he's holding a revolver handgun, Colt Python with a royal blue finish. Blue lights flashing near by, sirens wailing as a herd of white and blue cars scream along the highway parallel to the tracks. The man tries to clench the gun but it slips. He knows there's one bullet in the chamber and is now seriously considering suicide, but decides it wouldn't be very fitting, besides with the puddle of blood around his feet and the pressure on his lungs he is almost certain he's just gonna pack in anyway. He winches in pain as he grabs his last cigarette and strikes a match, takes it to the fag in his mouth and inhales. He lets out one long breath.
"We are the youth of today…fitting" he says as he finally blacks out.
