There was once a boy.  
This boy was different from anyone else in a very significant way. 
For on the inside,  
This boy was empty. 
He kept to himself.  
Secluded to a corner of the room where he would keep an avid watch on the fellow inhabitants. 
This was not done by choice, the boy himself could not even perceive the idea of choice. 
For this boy was empty,  
So hollow that he was barely aware of the workings of the world around him. 
Surrounding and suffocating in its strangeness. 
His only understanding of the world was the feeling of nothing that permeated his body.  
And when his focus shifted inside, instead of outside; 
It only brought attention to his lacking. 
For the sake of himself, he turned his attention outward,  
To the beings around him. 
 
He never saw his emptiness reflected from them.  
Other eyes held feeling,  
Emotions that would flash and change, 
Twisting and turning. 
 
(Never still and quiet like he himself; never like him, never the same. always the only one, always alone.)  
 
It was unsettling; the difference between himself and the other beings. 
 
And for the first time,  
He wanted. 
 
The girl was large; 
Ugly, 
Fat. 
All describing her less than stellar appearance. 
 
Redness invaded her cheeks, 
Her hair was lanky and slick with oil, 
Her clothes were old and ragged,  
With an unidentified quality of where they originated from. 
A malodorous smell clung to her, warning everyone when she was in attendance. 
 
(His eyes were large and glassy, bright and clear in color. 
Skin clear and smooth, radiant in an almost translucent sort of way.  
Clothes were neat and tidy,  
Body thin and delicate. 
Beautiful in face; reminiscent of a doll) 
 
Eyes followed her, glued to her form. 
 
Hungry for the passion that emanated from her being.  
For her vivacity of life that flowed through every nervous bounce of her boot, and every bite she tore from her nails. 
Her face scrunched and smoothed,  
Then scrunched again in another place only for the process to repeat again in conjunction to the thoughts passing through her head. 
 
Her voice was smooth and pleasant to listen too,  
The words sweet honeysuckles, enjoyed by everyone surrounding her. 
Everyone, whether they knew it or not revolved around Diana. 
 
Her reasoning’s fair and just, with enough irony to be humorous and mercy to be approachable.  
 
There were expectations for Diana,  
Great and wonderful opportunities waiting patiently for her to grasp them up and take them on a ride. 
 
The classroom was empty, everyone had rushed to leave and had left the normally rambunctious room void of life, 
Except for them. 
On separate sides of the room they both completed their own prerogative set for them by the class advisor. 
 
Her eyes roved over the paper laying on her desk. 
 
His eyes roved over her. 
 
With a violent twitch her head jerked up toward him. 
“What do you want!?” She snarled at him, eyes fiery with frustration and aggression. 
 
His head tilted, eyes rounding and mouth falling opening. 
 “Will you give it to me?” 
 
 She sighed in exaggeration and rolled her eyes, letting most of the aggression out in the deep sigh; 
“Give you what?” 
 
“What I want.” He said it as if it was a mutually understood what he meant and he was only going through the formalities of explaining.  
“If I tell you will you give it to me?”  
 
She rolled her eyes again, but conceded. “Sure. Whatever, just get it over with.” 
 
The next day Diana wasn’t there, 
But in the center; spewing sugar sweet garbage, 
Was the boy. 
With a smile on his face, 
And life in his eyes. 
 
He had gotten what he asked for, 
Her life.