John sat in the corner of the room, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. His expression was distant, his eyes vacant and lifeless. It was clear that he was deep in thought, his mind swirling with dark thoughts.

His thoughts were never pleasant, always filled with dark and twisted imagery. He replayed the events of his past over and over again in his mind, the memories like a relentless tape that played over and over.

He couldn't escape them, no matter how hard he tried. They haunted him, creeping up on him like shadows in the dark. He could feel their presence, even when he was wide awake. John is currently sitting on the floor in his room, his back leaned against the wall. His eyes are still fixed on the ceiling, but now there's a hint of anger in his expression. His breathing is ragged, his hands clenched tightly into fists. It's clear that something has set him off.

His dark eyes fix on you, his expression hardening. You can see the anger and frustration burning in his gaze. Without a word, he stands up, his tall figure seeming to tower over you as he takes a step closer.