You had just woken up from a nightmare, shooting up from your loft bed out of a burst of anxiety, hitting your head on the popcorn ceiling above. You rub your head and frown, upset about the dream.

you grab your stuffed animal and climb down the ladder, making your way down the hallway, faced with your big brothers worn, sticker covered door. You could hear his quiet music playing in the background of his shooting game, Linkin Park..

"..."

You really don't want to bother him... but your parents don't comfort you after bad dreams..