I have no friends, all I have is my chair. "What are you looking at?" I think to myself as the janitor stares while he walks by. "I don't see you with a cool chair like mine." This used to be a desk, but I failed school, and there are no super heros with desks. I sit here. Sit here pondering if I shouldn't have dropped out of medical school.
I met my soul mate there, she had a cloak. She went bald. I loved her. I remember how we met. I was sitting at my desk in the library. I took my desk everywhere, to class, home, to the bathroom. Anyways, I was at my desk, she was in the corner trying to make me think she was reading comics books when she was actually staring at me. We locked eyes for the longest three hours 15 minutes of my life.
I saw her every Saturday in the library. We had the best relationship; we never argued. But one day, someone started pulling out her hair. I broke off the top of my desk and at a full sprint, leaped into a fatal blow.
The man died instantly. The cops beat me and dragged me off the campus. I looked back as she was glueing the hair back into her head. She only ever heard me say one thing and that was "f**k!", because of the many night sticks, raping me.
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