A/N This isn't really a 2nd chapter, but I was writing it when I had the inspiration to write the first chapter, so I put it here. Oh and don't forget to review ^.^

Death, in the hand of a child

Strung out

Red thread,

Like a tendon of muscle.

And as I walk into this scene

Empty handed, I see

A contemplative situation

Of a boy and his father,

And distance,

Difference that doesn't exist.

Possibly, it could just be

The lighting,

And there is really no blood at all,

Slick and shiny on the floor.

And possibly it could just be

A mistake.