How many time's have I been kicking this wall how many days have I spend in this monotony. Kick thwack kick thwawk.....
Gun continues to kick the wall he doesn't rember how many days nor how many nights he has been doing this. HOW MANY MONTH'S HAVE I BEEN DOING THIS. WHEN WILL IT EVER STOP. WHEN CAN I JUST GO HOME. His eyes started to tear up as he remembered the last time he said goodbye to the orphanage and it's care takers. They where poor back then but still they were happy.
He continued kicking.Please just break I'm begging you. He prayed but nothing answered.His memories started to become disjointed. He couldn't remember the face's of the orphanage hell he even started to doubt whether his memories were even his anymore. Each time he remembered something it was so blurry and unclear. Hell when he would remember something about himself it would feel like he is watching a movie from a 3rd person perspective. His memories where fading his sanity was fleeting madness was consuming him. With each kick he came closer to losing himself. That hurt him more than the kicks could ever hurt him. Slowly but surly he forgot who he was he forgot where he came from he even forgot why he was kicking the wall.... But he could never forget his name and H.E N.E.V.E.R F.O.R.G.O.T T.H.A.T H.E N.E.E.D.E.D T.O K.I.C.K T.H.E W.A.L.L .
he may not remeber why but nonetheless he never forgot. Even as the months, years and centuries passed.