An Unlikely Match #2

18. Writer's block & Wrath

"Let's see.."

I pick up the little notebook I have for brainstorming, and flip it to the last page where I left off the last time. The idea I couldn't get to start writing due to too much conflict with the plot.

"Maybe.."

I make a quick mind map, and scribbling on it, but when I'm done I find the idea to be fairly alike the last one. Groaning, I just draw an X over the whole thing.

"Hm.."

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Why can't I come up with anything? It's so annoying, and in a frustrated moment I chuck my pen at the wall, a little to hard. It sticks in the wall for a couple of seconds before it falls onto the floor.

Oops..

I stand up from my desk and walk over to the tiny hole in the wall. Nothing serious, but definitely visible enough for mom to get mad at me for ruining the paint job.

In a moment of desperation, I extremely quickly scribble down a sketch of a skull with roses around it. When I find it fairly good enough, I place it over the hole using tape at the corners.

"There, mom won't notice."

On reflex I look to my door, expecting her to stand there and be all; "mom won't notice what?", but she isn't there luckily. The door's still closed, and most likely locked as well if I actually remembered it this time.

Snatching the notebook off the desk I fall over onto my bed and stretch. After what Xavier and I discovered in the basement I can't seem to relax properly. Not even when I'm alone at home.

The guys went for a run, and I specifically asked the girls to give me a couple of hours by myself. They repeatedly asked if I was okay, and left when I repeatedly answered that I was totally fine.

Honestly I just wanted a couple of hours by myself to see if I can get some writing done. The last time kinda got interrupted, and I didn't pick anything up after that time.

Damn you Xavier.

It's currently been two hours and forty minutes, and I still haven't got anything. I tried to continue writing on my latest story, but satan forbid I got any ideas to actually continue on it.

Accepting the fact that I have a major case of writer's block, all I can manage is to start doodling and scribbling words in my notebook. Music always helps me get inspiration, but not even having that in the background's helping me.

When I come back to reality after scribbling and doodle, I notice what I've actually drawn in my notebook. A pair of intense blue eyes, the exact same ones belonging to whoever attacked me in my own bathroom. And a mouth full of bloodied fangs, also belonging to my attacker.

Why did I draw those?

Either way, I pull the page out and fold it so that it can fit into a small drawer in my desk. In it I also have the cream I got from Lilly to put on my wound, I had to put it away after discovering it didn't help at all.

"Why do you keep haunting me?" I ask no one in particular.

Whoever wants to hurt me and my friends I will find, and I will hurt twice as bad back. I won't allow anything to happen to them or my family. If what Xavier told me a few days ago is true, and our grandparents are really getting together to hurt us.