Snippet #1732962

Robert sat on his bed, motionless and silent. He was trying to make sense of what he had just seen. "A dead body? Here?" He didn't know what to make of it or what to do next. Should he have helped the others, asked them what was going on? More importantly he thought, where the hell was Noelle? Was she behind this? Did she kill that person? Before his sister died the thought of Noelle killing someone sounded like the most hilarious thing he could possibly hear, but since the day his sister died he'd talked himself into believing that maybe she is just a stone cold killer. After all, its always who you least expect isn't it? The "innocent" one, the one everyone thought would never harm a fly.

Eventually Robert stood up. He walked over to his guitar, left next to the bags of clothes he had brought with him. He wanted to bring his violin to keep him happy but he was not allowed. It was to expensive to bring anywhere other than the stage. So he had to make do with his guitar. Lazily plucking a few strings he let his mind drift. Captivated by the wondrous and majestic view of the vast expansive ocean he forget all of his troubles for a few moments. When he snapped back he decided he needed to get out of here. He needed to pack his bags and just leave. The contents of the letter and the rules of "the game" still unknown to him as he stuffed clothes into his bag.