truth is like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. you push it, stretch it, it will never be enough, you kick at it, beat it. it will never cover any of us. and from the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying it will just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream.
- TODD ANDERSON, dead poets society (1989).
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TODD PERRY WAS ANXIOUS. And it wasn't his usual type of - Where have I put my glasses again?, or Shit, I forgot to do the important think I was supposed to but alas, I forgot. No, it wasn't anything like that. The type of anxiousness mixed with worry played with Todd's head as he roamed around the kitchen mindlessly, accidentally knocking a few bowls and pans for the fifth time over the past fifteen minutes since he arrived at the bakery. The teen adjusted his glasses back on his nose as he crouched down, picking up the bowls and placing them back on the counter as he let out a sigh. It's been three days since the party at the Williams and, with what Todd heard, he came to a conclusion that his dear friend Margaret had locked herself on her room. For three days. With a sudden wave of worry, he recalled on the events of the night, when he found the freezing girl on one of the benches outside of the Williams mansion.
THREE DAYS AGO. the Williams' party
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