"welcome to detention. no talking, coughing, sneezing, giggling, weird sounds of any sort, listening to music, and most certainly, no sex on top of the desks."

You are fucked up. You are alone. You are a dreamer. I met people who were fucked up. I met people who were alone. I met people who were dreamers. They were the ones that understood.

{Book 2} He was like a summer breeze; one minute he was there-the next, he was gone. He was like the autumn leaves; falling unexpectedly. He was like the winter freeze; feeling cold and lifeless, but still holding a flicker of warmth. He was like the spring trees; blossoming into something beautiful-something that deserved to be loved. And I was a wildfire-destroying everything in my way.