[h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1]
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[center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color]Arthur's room[/center]
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	Rocking in a fetal position, Arthur's throat was burning and his head was pounding. Everything hurt, his reality had gone through the shredder three times in the past two weeks, first when he found out gods were real, then when his sister died, and now that his friend was murdered in front of him. Hearing a knock at his door, he tensed up, ready to lash out, but at hearing Andy's voice, a part of him calmed down. He found his arms clambering up to the doorknob, and pulling it open for her, saying nothing for a few moments.

	Exhaling, and crawling out from behind the door, he made eye contact with her, his lips trembling. "[color=4286f4]It isn't fair.[/color]" He said, his voice wounded. He wanted for everything to stop. He'd have taken going back to that accursed boarding school over staying here, if it meant all of his friends still being alive. He had tears streaming down his face still, and he just said, "[color=4286f4]I... I don;t know how to go on. I just... don't.[/color]" Almost whimpering, he wanted somebody to tell him everything would be alright, but he knew nobody could do that.