[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200630/3d71ca4e6529e0a828eed1f3cff973ff.png[/img] [sub][color=D43535]Location:[/color] Jenkin's Diner. Rushford, OH[/sub][/center][hr] The original plan was to meet his parents at the diner and to get the hell out of town, but things didn't go as planned for Dash. His parents were old, so they were slow. Obviously that day, he gave them the benefit of the doubt that it was just their sluggish pace that was keeping them back and that he should wait for them patiently. In the first few days, he waited with hope. Hope that they would be there well and alive. That hope was coming from a place in Dash's mind on the brighter side of things, but in the past week, he realized that looking at the brighter side of things wasn't going to help him survive. Dash sat quietly at his picked booth in Jenkin's Diner, scribbling away in his journal. Journaling was something Dash had assigned every year as an assignments to his students for the semester, it was to write a entry either daily or weekly, to allow for creative expression for his students and to help them with their writing skills. Doing it himself had become therapeutic and as a creature of habit it stuck. As some of the group gathered for a cup of coffee, the teacher finished up his mental vomiting, joining the group at the counter. [color=D43535]"I'll take a coffee too."[/color]