Snippet #1815584

After a bunch of twisting and turning, Yuu woke up with a thud. Sitting up, he found himself on the floor. Uh, I must of fell off the bed last night...Oh, well. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them before rumpling to find his glasses that he left up on his nightstand. After finally retrieving the object, he put them on and stood up, yawning. He stretched his body before putting the sheets back on his bed. He turned to his body mirror, yawning again and looking at his appearance. His hair was a mess, pajamas rumpled, and his gash scars were visible on his bare arms. He just smiled to himself and looked at his violin case, thinking about his white beauty and how much he loved playing her. He pushed his glasses up as he hurried out of his pajamas and quickly into clean clothes, consisting of: a white short sleeved buttoned up shirt, black bow-tie, black dress pants, black belt with suspenders, and black dress pants. It was the clothes he felt most comfortable in. He checked himself in the mirror again, grabbing a hair brush and trying to get his hair to work with him. As he did, he thought about today. He was going to have to talk in a group before he leaves this place. Talking. He didn't like. But everybody's not going to listen to me...I talk weird. He sighed before putting up his tidy hair in a small ponytail and setting the hairbrush down. Walking over to his bathroom, he took his medicine and walked back out. He grabbed for his violin, putting it on his shoulder and heading out of his room.

Walking down the hallway, he got to the room. He quietly walked into the room full of other people, people like him. He just stared at the others with a weird look, a look he didn't mean to give off, but did anyway. He awkwardly gave a small, nervous nod and sat in a chair that was farther away from the other people in the room. As he sat down, he found himself playing with his violin's case strap. He didn't want to talk about his problems, especially about the talking part. Talking was going to be very hard for him. He was glad for the sketchbook that he seemed to fit in his case along with a pen that he'd found two days ago. Maybe they would let him write his problems...Yeah, maybe.