I needed more, more! I threw the book across the dimly lit, wooden attic. The book hit a stack of old newspapers. I tore open yet another book. Nothing would give me my answers.
    Why did I feel the need to care for Lucy? Why could I not get Alexander out of my head?
    There were pages, and pages of the thought process, but nothing to explain what I felt! Why could no one manage to capture these feelings, and explain them?
    A knock on the door interrupted me. “What?” I snapped.
    “It is past midnight, Damien. Come to bed,” said Grey through the door.
    “I’ll come when I want to. Now, go away!” Could she not understand I was confused, and angry? She possessed such naivety.
    “Fine!” Grey yelled. I heard her storm down the steps. Then I heard her bedroom door slam. I let out a puff of air.
    Then I threw another book against the wall. I kicked the whole stack of books, and watched as they toppled over. I threw myself onto the floor, and began crying.