anxiety_filled_mess
New Member
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 the sudden noise, figuring he was paranoid. He went back to the poem he was writing. Before writing it, oddly enough, he signed his name at the very bottom of the paper with a black felt pen.
What is his name?
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 the sudden noise, figuring he was paranoid. He went back to the poem he was writing. Before writing it, oddly enough, he signed his name at the very bottom of the paper with a black felt pen.
What is his name?