He took a shaky breath. "I-I didn't take them today!" he called. "But, I have been the past week." he added, much too quiet to hear. It was a blatant lie. He turned off his lamp. It was 9:27, the dark consumed his room. His mother sighed. "Take them in the morning!" She yelled to him before...
Signing ~Morgan Hayes onto the paper in his neatest possible handwriting, he went to start the poem. Placing the pen to the paper, jolting his hand to the right, streaking and staining the paper with ink. He frustratedly shook his head, now about to reply to his mum whom just called "Mor, you...
He sits on the side of his bed. His legs dangling off the messy bed over the clothes-crowded floor.
A small creaking noise is heard as he turns his head to a rusty door. It opened slowly when unlocked, which it wasn’t, and always creaked. He tried to avoid it at all costs. He shook his head at...