Never did he knew that one emotion could change eveything.

His eyes darted back at the monitor in complete focus.

His fingers danced meekly with the white keyboard.

Painted with the letters of QWERTY.

There were two large glass panes in his room; both off to work.

The work of separating him from reality.

He has loved his own fiction ; a virtual reality - an animation.

Even though he knew it wasn't real.

He had hopes. Real big hopes. Ones he used once for his own life - yet now for his own foolishness.

His eyes bore in hue, and the raindrops tapped the glass pane windows over and over again.

...over

...and

...over again.

He did not stop - it happened all day. The same daily cycle.

His room was painted grey, a monochrome world in his perspective.

As the sky of reality had turned awfully darker.

Rainfall had started. And it was possibly announced by the forecaster.

Rain - it was a sad and lonely word, it was the component that made the world lonely.

The raindrops continued to tap the glass pane windows into an unstoppable rhythm.

A rhythm that was unindentified.

Yet abnormally,

He was a prisoner
unable to escape.