They danced in his head, the tantalising thoughts of guilt

A lone chair sat in the middle of a ballroom, black sleek leather. The smell of wood rose to his senses as the lonely man walked toward the chair. Long black hair curled up and tucked behind his ears. A smooth shave exposing the neat scar reaching across his nose.

How could life be so complicated? The man thought of reaching his hand to the back of the chair. Gripping the top of it, the man tried to move it. At first, he thought ‘Could it be nailed or glued here?’ But then the sudden thought crashed into his mind. Why would one chair be nailed or glued here? Why not more of them? The man racked his mind with the attempt of different reasons why the chair might be stuck there. However, none of those reasons really had any logic apart from one. ‘A prank gone wrong,’ he thought and chuckled to himself.

Then he swivelled himself around the chair and sat down.

Curiously, the fact that the man had tried moving the chair says a lot about him. Why not just sit? An open ballroom with nothing inside apart from himself and the chair. Yet, he had found himself trying to move it. Then coming up with an excuse for it not wanting to move.

The man pondered on this, ‘Why do I do this? Why do I always feel the need to change things, or to control things? She was right’

Frustrated at the fact that he began diving deeper into his mind, hating himself more and more as he did.

Whoever ‘she’ was, scarred his mind, leaving him doubting himself, for maybe a lifetime.

Footsteps echoed, from the same entrance the man had come into.

“Shi*,” he said aloud to himself. Standing up from the lonely chair the man scanned the room in panic. There was nowhere for him to go.