Post by LOGAN PHIX THOMPSON on Sept 4, 2011 15:08:32 GMT -5
Eleven year old logan pulled himself up and went for a walk. He was in fostercare and often took trips to The Center or TAMS. No one was really sure of why the names are the way they were. He thought about smoking in public but he realized that it would most likely attract attention if everyone saw a eleven year old boy walking down the street and smoking a cigarette like he had been doing it for years. instead of smoking he casually pulled out a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on an off, watching the flame. Curious of what would happen he ran his finger through the orange and red flame. It hurt. Not desperately though. Not enough to make him cry or whimper. Cry? Haha. Logan didn't cry that much.
Seeing a coffee shop out of the side of his eye, he walked in their, got a coffee and sat far away from everyone. He wasn't in a good mood. At all and ready to snap.
