And yes, I STILL want...
Who: Owen Harper
When: Mid-morning
Where: Attic
What: After searching his room, Owen decides to go up to the attic to see if his football has ended up there.
Much as he tried to avoid thinking about it, the brutal fact was that Owen Harper's temper wasn't getting any better. Frustration had always been his middle name, but just lately it had been getting worse.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something (or more to the point someone) was creeping up behind him and preparing to bash him over the head with something heavy. When it happened in the hallways he could just about deal with it, when it happened in his own bathroom... that was a completely different game of soldiers all together, thank you very much.
Finally deciding that the best course of action was to do a quick stock take on what should be in his room- more to prove to himself that there wasn't anything else going on, he realised that his football was indeed still missing.
Probably because he'd always found that kicking a ball against a wall (especially one he'd been specifically told not to) very therapeutic, he headed for the attic, in the vague hope of being able to find both at the same time, or failing that, just his football.
When: Mid-morning
Where: Attic
What: After searching his room, Owen decides to go up to the attic to see if his football has ended up there.
Much as he tried to avoid thinking about it, the brutal fact was that Owen Harper's temper wasn't getting any better. Frustration had always been his middle name, but just lately it had been getting worse.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something (or more to the point someone) was creeping up behind him and preparing to bash him over the head with something heavy. When it happened in the hallways he could just about deal with it, when it happened in his own bathroom... that was a completely different game of soldiers all together, thank you very much.
Finally deciding that the best course of action was to do a quick stock take on what should be in his room- more to prove to himself that there wasn't anything else going on, he realised that his football was indeed still missing.
Probably because he'd always found that kicking a ball against a wall (especially one he'd been specifically told not to) very therapeutic, he headed for the attic, in the vague hope of being able to find both at the same time, or failing that, just his football.