there's this one scene i keep thinking about.

that's the bad thing about having a scripted life.

Act IV
Scene 3

action!

or at least that's what we hope and pray for.
a calm stare comes across the face of the boy.
he can't help it. he knows it's not a big deal.
his thoughts are different now. he knows.
he's fixed himself... he was broken.
can you blame him? can anyone blame him?
can God blame him?
he blames God, but immediately changes his mind.
it's not hitting him like it used to.
it's better that way. now he can breath without gasping for air.
now he can eat without the nausea. now he can walk without a buried head.
now he can look at a day without squinted eyes.
now he can relax his clinched teeth and knuckles that have become white fists.
he can sleep without the pain. he can sleep without haunted dreams.
he can sleep.
but he doesn't want to.
his dreams are the worst part of his day.