atamari101

Ch.4 The day was still young you were at the registration office near a desk where you ask the registrar clergy about information of the student aide Alfred F. Jones. The clergy searched on files of the computer but there was no slight information available. So the next you did was asking every student, professor and all others you don't know about if they knew about Alfred. All answers were given a no. You have no chance of any one that knew about Alfred. "I know him!" a voice called. You've found it. A college student that came forward to you and greeted himself as 'one of his friends'. The college student was a guy with long brown pon

Ch.3 Later in the evening, you were leaving the dormitory building after a long day at the college, you were going out to do something fun and yet you always look for adventure outside these walls. You were going to a local club where you went to party after a day of study at college, a glimpse of a memorable face caught your attention while you were at the dance floor. Was that Alfred??? You thought you were being stalked by him. How can it be? It must be your imagination or yet someone else who is close to Alfred's appearance yet the stranger smiled just like his cheerful expression. You left the club immediately after you went passed the

Ch.2 Later that evening, inside at the college dormitory, where you were at, was sitting up and awake at the side of the bed alone in the dark with no roommates to be around. Ever since you first attended college you were mainly a social recluse, where no one you know who would care even the deepest feelings you had. Tears trickled silently on the sides of your cold cheeks as you sulked your face into those dull, flat pillows. Depression was on your mind. Although since you were shy and scared since you met a handsome man in the library there was no way you could be or yet felt touch by his presence. Those soft eyes he had. Alfred made your

Ch.1 It was a early daylight, inside at a college library you were sitting at the table with your pencil in hand and a piece of blank line paper with a American history book closed. You were thinking in a deep thought for a essay report for your history class. You finally got a idea for the title. you wrote it down on top of the margin of the paper. 'Heroes not exist' You next begin to write your first sentence: 'Are heroes just a myth?' You paused as you were in focus of the report. "Hello," a gentle voice interrupted your writing. You looked up to see and there a tall man with a blonde cow lick hairstyle that had tan skin and was wea