He couldn't bear to be seen staring so he smiled as they passed. Turning towards the milk carton white building that smelled of paint and sweat he eyed his instructor walking through the doorway. His clothes carefully placed together to come across as a strong but likable person. He watched as his instructor turned and caught his darting eyes. This scared himself and he turned his face and his chin down to hide. It was all coming back in flashes now and he fell to the ground. His father, the one he could not talk about, was smashing a balloon into the floor. It wasn't his balloon to begun with. But that didn't stop him from crushing it beneath his dark shoes as an expression of elation flooded across his face and blew devilish looks in his direction. "Please forgive me for it was an accident." His heart wouldn't heal right from all that sarcasm. It in fact didn't heal right at all. This became a symptom he would have to learn to take with stride. More than emotion he could not be having these. He stood up from the ground and his instructor was gone. He was on the other side of that door in the distance. He was on the other side of that door. He was on the other side. refer back to January 4th, 2006 of this diary.