A. Maddie, you said you wanted a story like this. If ya don't want it here, I'll move it to my account.
B. That awkward moment when you wake up, and fifteen minutes later, you have the beginning of a story in your mind...
Jerome is thirteen. He's known this other boy, who always wear this black-and-red checkered hoodie, with the hood drawn up, hiding his face, for a long time. And what's mysterious about this boy is that never once has he shown his face, and never once has anyone else noticed him. Every time he speaks, it's a very simple "Yes", "No", or another short answer, in a voice as cold as ice, and contorted of an accent Jerome can only guess what it is. This boy does not seem to even have a name, and Jerome starts to figure out a couple of things, about himself, and this boy...
