He slowly rose from the desk as the bell rang, confusion causing his eyebrows to furrow together. He didn't understand. And he felt oddly connected to her. He wasn't going to his next class. Decision was made. He wouldn't be able to focus. He collected his bag, before disappearing down the hall, heading to his secret retreat. He just hoped his father wouldn't be home soon to hear about his ditching. Entering into the library, he slipped along the wall and to a darker part, sitting down on the ground with his back against a bookshelf. Reaching to his side, he untucked a book from behind some others, before opening it. Several pages had his writing on it.

He collected his pencil, starting from where he last left off. He would continue like he always did, write as much as he could about what happens in his dreams until the pain wins over and he could no longer write about the situation. Several of the pages had this exact same process on it, but simply from slightly different situations that he had experienced. [@Arista]