FloatingAngel018

It is a dreary February day and the snow swirls, falling slowly outside my window, belying the turbulence in my tiny room. My head in my hand, I sigh and look back to my desk, adjusting one of the meticulously aligned pencils to match its partners more perfectly. My eyes glaze over and I stare vaguely at the paper before me and watch the scene play inside my head. "Well, I just don't know." "What do you mean, you don't know?" "I don't KNOW! Stop asking me, I don't know what I think." "That's bullshit." Silence. "I'm sorry." More silence. Then the key turns in the ignition and I drive away, dropping my best friend off at his cold, dark

Willful Mayhem Mal woke up abruptly, sitting up in his bed and panting. He flung his head from side to side, his shaggy hair smacking him in the face as his panicked eyes frantically searched out the dark recesses of the room for his attacker. His breath slowed as he remembered where he was. He leaned back onto his elbows and closed his eyes, reaching his neck back and letting out a long, frustrated sigh. For a while, he held that position, meditating on the dream that had caused him to wake so suddenly. He slowly leaned forward again, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders and grabbing his clock, checking the time in the pale moonlight fr