(no subject)
It's been three months since Trevor's had a full night's sleep.
He drinks coffee to stay awake, and paces at night. Or locks himself in a room, alone, to draw. His drawings are violent again, instead of the more pleasant one's he'd been trying lately. He finds himself drawing his mother again, or Didi. Or Zach, the way he was that night, in the corner of the bathroom.
He's in his room again, crouched over his sketchbook at a desk, squinting in the dim light of the desk lamp as he draws.
But if someone knocks, he'll answer. He might even appreciate the interruption.
Typist: Openpost is open.
He drinks coffee to stay awake, and paces at night. Or locks himself in a room, alone, to draw. His drawings are violent again, instead of the more pleasant one's he'd been trying lately. He finds himself drawing his mother again, or Didi. Or Zach, the way he was that night, in the corner of the bathroom.
He's in his room again, crouched over his sketchbook at a desk, squinting in the dim light of the desk lamp as he draws.
But if someone knocks, he'll answer. He might even appreciate the interruption.
Typist: Openpost is open.