Artimus

Chapter One: Artimus

         The air was crisp and the wind was light, and Artimus walked slowly and contently down the sidewalk lining the busy street. He wasn't aware of where he was going, he just needed to be alone.
         He lived in a crowded place, with his quarreling parents and his prying younger brother, and most of the time he felt overwhelmingly surrounded. He was nineteen, depressed, and filled with foggy ambition. Some days he felt he should die, and some days he was filled with a sudden inspiration that made him want to live again. It was a viscous cycle, but he was used to it.
         He pushed his shoulder-length black hair away from his face as the breeze forced it to obstruct his vision. He'd been attractive all his life, and he found it to be a burden. Attractiveness, in his opinion, meant that people would judge you for this before all other things, and give them false ideas on who you are. Which meant, to him, that he might not find true, blind love. This, he was searching for.
         He scanned the area. He had fallen across a city park. It was virtually empty of people, and he decided to walk around, hoping it would be peaceful, as to calm him down. This stress was becoming unbearable, and seemingly he had no reason to feel it. But, there it was, and there he was trying to rid himself of it yet again.
         It was beginning to get dark, and the park was losing colour with every beam of sunlight that disappeared behind the horizon. He liked it this way, it mirrored his idea that the world was becoming a colourless place, losing beauty with every gun bought, with every heart broken recklessly, he could see it all in black and white. He could read people in this way too. It was so obvious, and he didn't understand how others lacked this ability. He also didn't understand how people could be so cruel. He knew it was hardwired into every human being what good morals are, and wondered why so many failed to put them to good use.
         He reached the center of the park and settled on a small green bench. The last, late calls of birds, and the way the last beams of sunlight hit random objects in the park, filled him with a sense of security, inspiration, and happiness. So there was still beauty in this place. Maybe there was still hope for him afterall.