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As the week grew towards its' end, Theodore had actually managed to get a word with Caspian. That word was 'sorry', as they had almost crashed into each other in the corridor. Of course, that had been Hannah's fault, as she had pushed him; tired of how nothing had happened. It wasn't his fault that he always panicked when approaching Caspian, and that he always backed out at the last minute, and continued to walk straight ahead instead of saying anything the times they had passed each other's path in the hallways. So, of course, Hannah just had to interfere, and he had now introduced himself in a highly embarrassing way, but he had at least g

Four years had passed, and Theodore had developed from a child into a young man. He had grown almost two feet, making him tall and scrawny, instead of just tiny. Otherwise he still looked pretty much the same, albeit a bit older; messy hair – neither blonde nor brown – that had grown a bit and was now shoulder length, glasses, and no clear display of a fashion sense (he liked to think he'd gotten slightly more stylish over the years, though that was arguable). It was on the inside the most obvious changes had taken place. It was as though he had stepped out of a shell, leaving much of what used to be his entire world dishevelled behind him.

If you'd ask Theodore Wilkins what the loneliest place in the world was, he would undoubtedly say it was his school cafeteria. Even surrounded by a buzzing mass of pupils, there was no other place where he'd feel quite as alone. Nowhere else was it as clear just how different he was from the other students at his school. He stood out; with his tousled hair (in a hybrid colour between dark blonde and light brown) reaching down to his chin, his glasses, his clothes. The fact that he was rather small and scrawny for a boy his age didn't help much either. He stood out in classrooms as well, of course, but the gap didn't seem just as obvious the

You watch her from afar, her crimson locks bouncing around her face as she twirls. Her eyes are closed, her lips curled into a smile. You can tell that she's letting the music fill up her tiny body, like there is nothing else. She is beautiful; it almost hurts looking at her. She reminds you of a faerie dancing in the woods. Otherworldly. She belongs there, in the silence of a deep forest, not here in this soiled reality. Yet here she is, as real as anything else. And though nobody knows it, she is yours. You are never quite sure whether you hear her or if you sense her, when she quietly makes her way through the thick darkness. Her bare fee