Kibum lay in bed; the sound of a clock ticking filled the room. He looked up, realizing that there wasn't even one in the white room. Was he really insane? Getting up from his bed he walked over to the mirror that was covered by a blanket, “what is wrong with me?”        

“Why can’t anyone hear me? I scream for days on end, but it seems that no matter how hard I try, I’m still not able to have the only person that cares about me, hear how much pain I am in." The sound of water droplets seemed to be echoing around the filthy box that seemed to be made out of thin glass as if it was ripped off of abandoned lights from an old school that was covered in dust that it seemed to stain it a disgusting yellow.  

It was chained to a pure white chain and it was being pushed around by the playful wind but still stayed strong in its positive yellow shell. My yellow balloon.