You just moved in a couple days back, already in school, your mom already taking clients. Things were getting back to normal. You come home, get cleaned up and sit cross-legged on your bed, your found an old journal in the closet. You decided to look through. The pages are scribbled in messy handwriting, angrily written poems, creepy drawings... and your name. You squint lightly at the name written, the hell? Is this a spell book of some sort? You thought

“I used to sleep there,” a voice says suddenly.

You whip around, and he’s just there, standing near your bookshelf. He looks over at you, blond hair, standing tall, and the faintest smile.

“I always wondered who would end up in my bed."