His gray flesh used to resemble the soft shade of almond, the pigment of his cheeks was a rosy hue which complemented the pallid saturation of his dim irises. Quite pleasing to the eye, his beauty could not be summed up and tossed around casually. He was merely the pinnacle of pulchritude, not only for his alluring appearance but also for his compassionate actions towards any single being or creature. As I gaze out of my window and peer into the abyss, I allow my pupils to dilate, enabling my focus to fade and become foggy. My mind wanders ceaselessly as I tap my foot lightly to a contingent rhythm. I remembered seeing the others. They almost appeared to be diminutive replicas of him.  Their faces were worn out and expressionless—emotionless rather. Flecked with a combination of dirt and grime, streaked passageways that carried thick tears, their faces were sullen—guilt ridden. Their body tissue was threadbare, almost incandescent as well as translucent. I could see their blood cells rising and falling—a routine that captivated my attention for a long while. Their lungs struggled relentlessly to persist, their organs slowly shutting down one after another. Their capillaries and veins would bend with every harsh movement they were expected to proceed with. In their minds, I could almost sense their biological clocks expiring. The time seemed to lack minutes, even seconds. I wanted to save all of them, but I remained helpless. I wanted so badly to salvage him, but I was incompetent. All of my insides ached to compress him into that of a tiny seashell, cup my hands, and carry him out of this malignant dominion.