Voices in a Thunderstorm

Dispair

(Typos will be added later)
I wach in horar as the cat is ate. Ther is annother boy. Hes lafing. He sits in a roling chair with a bird in his lap. The bird loks at me with unatral I's. It is ded. The boy with the ded bird laph)s at the cat as it is eaten, It's bones crunch and it's flesh rips. It is wet and red and the blood mixes with the water. It's flowing closer, to me, to my face. I don't want to touch the blood, but I cannot move. The creature hears the boy's laughs and eats him too. It is quiet. The first thing it took was his head. The rest is slowly being absorbed into the flesh, grabbed by it's hundreds of hands and dragged closer and closer to its core. The boy is bleeding. I see his blood trickling down down down the flesh and joining the flow of water coming towards my grate. It starts raining blood and I gag.

This life is meaningless. The cat could not escape, the boy could not escape, I cannot escape. I will not escape. What would I even do? Where would I go? Food has been scarce this past few weeks. I get hungrier and hungrier. Normal people will fear me. That is why we live in the sewers. I have nowhere to go. There is nothing for me to do. Why should I keep suffering for days if I can just end it now? It will be painless. Joshua said death is painless. Joshua is smart. Joshua is gone now. He was eaten. But he said death is painless. So, if I go to it now, it shouldn't hurt, right?