Something that i've written over the past few days. Enjoy!

He looked around the room for one last time- the room in which he had called his own for the past nineteen years of his life. A private sanctuary for him in times of depression and sorrow; a calm oasis for him whenever he felt that the hustle and bustle of the world were getting too unbearable for him; a little piece of Eden for him whenever he wrote his stories in, surrounded by his favourite pieces of literature and the sounds of Mozart’s concert pieces.

His eyes glanced over his messy desk, stacked with folders of magazines, notebooks, and many different paraphernalia gathered from everywhere- there was an invitation form from a prestigious overseas university lying in the leftmost folder; there was no reason for him to reply to it now. Wires of all kinds lay in a basket in the middle of the table, sharing space with a digital camera.

He took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply. Faint scents of sandalwood and rosemary could be felt in the air, remnants of the aromatherapy set which he had burnt the night before, a futile attempt to go to sleep. The laundry basket, beside his bed, was by now empty- a sight that was never seen before.

A strange sense of emotion washed passed him- he had known that this day was coming ever since he was born and he knew how to count time, but still, it had seemed to be so, so far away. Till it finally came. The preparations for the day had numbed his anxiousness and his worry somewhat, but now, in the morning, just before leaving his home, it had all came back.

There was a dry taste in his mouth now; it had gone dry after heading back into his room to pick up his bags. He had tried swallowing saliva, but still, there was that dry feeling in his mouth. Deep down, he knew that it had nothing to do with thirstiness or not drinking enough water. It simply boiled down to a single factor.

He switched off the hi-fi system; the screaming sounds of Gazette were cut rather abruptly. Picking up his bags, he switched off all the plugs in his room, wiped away a solitary tear that had been running down his cheek, gave his room one last glance, and went out of the room. The room in which he had spent the last nineteen years of his life in.

He locked the door behind him. And never looked back.