The One Who Always Listened
A one shot, with possible sequel.
I don't know how to write a good description, so here is some;
The pale slender dark haired boy sat in the centre of the white room, arms crossed calmly on his chest and secured in place by the jacket. There were not many days where he was like this anymore, calm.
Today was a rarity; today if you ignored the white room and the restraining jacket, you could pretend he was an ordinary 17-year-old boy, your regular everyday adolescent. Nevertheless, you did not find many teenagers hidden underground in a mental institution renown for holding incurables.
I don't know how to write a good description, so here is some;
The pale slender dark haired boy sat in the centre of the white room, arms crossed calmly on his chest and secured in place by the jacket. There were not many days where he was like this anymore, calm.
Today was a rarity; today if you ignored the white room and the restraining jacket, you could pretend he was an ordinary 17-year-old boy, your regular everyday adolescent. Nevertheless, you did not find many teenagers hidden underground in a mental institution renown for holding incurables.