Dead Boy

A single look into those pained, blue eyes will suck the life right out of you. They never used to be like that. On the nicest, sunniest of days ominous rolling clouds trail behind in the wake of his sorrow. Can you touch it? Can you feel it? Do you realize how tangible it is? Reach out, grab it, and strangle him with it. Strangle him with the fucking pain that surrounds his life. Day in and day out, slowly destroying him.
Those pained blue eyes no longer do a good job of hiding how tired he is. Mentally, physically exhausted. I bet you wish he were dead. He can bring you down with one twirl spinning the death around you that he drags behind him. I bet you wish he were dead. I bet you wish he was fucking dead.
The cheerfull child inside him is dead and hung from everything he was. You destroyed him and he will destroy you. Everything around the dead boy will be swallowed by his darkness. Look into his eyes and feel his misery. Can you touch it? Can you feel it? Can you see it?
The dead boy was sent to Earth to test people, to test everything. He will destroy. You. Friends. Love. Lives. Every material object imagineable. And when there is nothing left to destroy, he will destroy himself. This is all the dead boy can do. Is there hope? Can someone save these battered, shredded remnants of a boy?
I dare you. I fucking dare you. Try to get near him, try to revamp him, bring him back from the DEAD. For if you do, there will be great reward. Bring life to him and bring life to that child inside. And that child inside holds the key to carefree happiness. But I warn you, it will take a great person to go near this dead boy. Is it you?