Serkan raised the pipe to his mouth and took a hit that proved to be too big, leaving him in a violent coughing fit and with a reddened face. From behind black curtains, thin slivers of light pierced the black darkness of the room and illuminated the grey particulates silently swirling about. The tall walls were painted black. A thick black carpet blanketed the floor. A black metallic desk begrudgingly sat in a corner. The black was only broken by colorful posters and figurines of female Elves and Fairies physically blessed by the Gods themselves. Gods. F*** the Gods. Serkan had lost all interest in becoming what his parents called a "God." An all powerful and immortal being who enslaved entire peoples and crushed those that resisted. "It's a very good job, Serkan. Very stable," he recalled his mother saying. His eyes drifted towards his favorite poster. A Fairy with bright eyes and long hair, both a deep blood red, sat atop a Giant White Mushroom. Black tights and a large black sweater covered a considerable amount of her body, but it was the little skin you could see that Serkan loved. The little bit of lower back peeking out... The white ear that found it way out of the fiery locks of hair... The ankle that rejected the notion of pants... That ankle... That f***ing ankle... Damn. She's so little. The things we could do. There was no way out though. It isn't as simple as walking up to his parents and laying his feelings out on the table. It isn't as simple as having a heart to heart conversation where he goes on to explain that his real passions in life are scrumptious Fairies, bright green foliage, and whatever the opposite of murder is. It just isn't that simple. But the longer he stared at his favorite poster, the more he began to realize that power is not happiness. Power is not happiness which means that power is not everything because if you're not happy then all the possessions in the world are meaningless. And so forth his mind tumbled and somersaulted in the hopes of justifying what he was about to do. Serkan stood, walked to his door, put his hand on the doorknob, but thought better of it and decided to wait until he sobered up. THEN he would do it. In the meantime he crawled back under his sheets and stuck a hand up his robes. Soon, my pretty little Fairy.
