C
Charles Yager
Guest
Original poster
He was a dark haired teenager with his hands draping down off his bed. How cold and dim this morning was, with the blinds closed and his comforted wrapped around him.
It was another day, not getting up and going to his campus. It was a morning where people would call to see if he was okay, calling and calling until my brain was ringing.
Maybe they would actually come to my door and see him in person. Somebody just come through that door and talk to me. He thought in his brain.
It was another day, not getting up and going to his campus. It was a morning where people would call to see if he was okay, calling and calling until my brain was ringing.
Maybe they would actually come to my door and see him in person. Somebody just come through that door and talk to me. He thought in his brain.