• I •

13 2 0
                                    

William sat at his computer, watching the familiar blinking cursor on his barely started English essay. He would say he wasn't inspired, but that was putting it lightly. He was full-on stumped, the only sentence he could seem to write being 'the French revolution showed'. He sighed deeply, jumping when he heard a knock on his door.

"Will?"

His mother. Perfect. If she sees that he hasn't written squat in the past hour, she'd gut him like a fish. And still force him to write the paper afterward. All he could do was pray she wasn't here to check on his progress.

"Yeah?" He called through the door, holding his breath.

"Dinner's ready. Come and get it whenever you like."

William had to disguise his audible sigh of relief with a well placed cough, responding with a simple ok. Thank God. He had no interest in eating, however.

He quickly switched the tabs on his computer to a luminescent display of green numbers and letters, typing expertly in the source code of the new game he was creating. He never published the games he made, he just made them to take his mind off of things. Will had been an expert in coding since 3rd grade, having won national competitions with ease as early as age 12. He didn't like to brag, but he was pretty proud of himself. Something about computers seemed to draw his interest, as if he needed to learn about every nook and cranny of the machine before it could even turn on. His fascination with them seemed to only grow with time, consistently picking up new hobbies and interests centered around the electronic devices. He had intended to continue working on his game, but his eyelids seemed to have a mind of their own has the world slowly darkened around him.

Winter's BurnWhere stories live. Discover now