05-02-2010, 07:22 PM
Quinten Delany Kostello was laying in his room, the nightlight in the corner of the room keeping the place to be completely dark. He had recently started attending this new place, strange and foreign to him. Sighing, the boy bit his lip. All night long, he had not slept, tossing and turning of the visions that came every time he closed his eyes. He kept recounting the scene where he became a murdered. He was cold and afraid, not wanting to think of himself as the killing person he had accidently became. He knew that it was not on purpose, and he tried his best not to be hard on himself, but alas, he couldn't help his mind wandering. He was here to stay out of the cold grasp of the law, not just because of his powers that got him into trouble in the first place.
Quinn, as he preferred to be called, was using his powers to draw. One side of his mind was raising the paper and pencil, while the other was making the pencil move to create some form of art. Of course, it didn't have to make much sense. why would it? All of his drawings had a dark undertone of sorrow and regret, bringing to life his shame and desire to make things different. He didn't want to recount his past. Why would it not just leave him? As he drew, he hummed to himself a song that his mother once used to sing to him, before she realized he was a freak. It was almost soothing, but he knew that it would not make him feel better for long.
Tossing himself up from the bed, he mentally turned the lights on and walked himself over to the dresser which held all his close. His dark hair was lightly tousled, falling by his face in dark, loose curls. His vivid blue eyes, which he inherited from his mother, reflected into the mirror and he stared back at himself. Slowly pulling out the drawer, he grabbed the first shirt on top. It was a white and yellow stripped tank, something he had had for as long as he could remember. It was passed down to him from his first foster family. Next, he closed the drawer and used his hand to bring a pair of jeans from a neatly folded pile of jeans on the floor to him. They were dark wash, but faded heavily in the target areas, in which his joints moved. He got these jeans for his last birthday, but that didn't matter to him. As long as they fit.
He put the clothes on, watching his body in the mirror. His skin was pale and dry in appearance, but it was always well moisturized. He seemed to have an inability to tan, it seemed. But no, he had some color on his face, neck, and arms. His skin wasn't bad looking, but rather the body it was on. In his opinion, Quinn was boney, yet overweight. Of course, if one were to ask a doctor, they would clarify that as a false thought. In actuality, he was thin and fit. sure, he was a little too skinny in some places, bones jutting out from his body slightly, but his self conscious feelings always took over his mind.
Taking his eyes from the mirror, he walked to the bed and grabbed the navy blue blazer from the bedpost, followed by his black and grey messenger bag. The bag contained a few books and a swiss army knife or two. He always had things with him to make sure he was protected if he needed to fight and his powers wouldn't quite cut it. He opened the bag, peering inside for a moment before tossing the pen and paper in as well. He wanted it with him in the event that he was stricken with some inspiration to add to the piece. Not like that ever happened, but Quinn liked to be prepared.
Exiting the room, closing the door and shutting the lights off behind him, the boy made his way down the corridor and towards the library, where he planned to catch up on some reading in the solace and well lit room. Reading in the dark tended to give him a headache. Plus, the library had better colored pencils, and he had the urge to color something bright. He walked for what seemed like a short time, and entered the library quietly. Two others were already there and he went and sat within a relative distance of them. He didn't want to be close enough to over hear them, but yet close enough that they could talk to him if they so chose.
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