I loved my bedroom, the floral wallpaper, the four poster bed, the pastel colours that filled the room gave it a vintage style. It was really cozy and I loved going there every night and stare at the decorations, portraits of my friends, actually who I thought were my friends. They weren't pictures, but drawings, drawings of my friends. People I met daily, but boy was I popular! Every morning at least one new portrait was hung on the wall, so many friends.
Sometimes I'd wonder if these people really existed, if was crazy, if i'd imagined them all. but that couldn't be, no.
This morning I woke up, but I remembered no friends, no new portraits. It was so odd. The same thing happened the day after, and the one after that.
The years passed, no new friends. No friends at all, they all left me. I got so mad that I burned all the drawings. All except one, I still don't know why I left that one behind. Maybe because it was this gorgeous young man, but I sincerely don't know...
