Chapter Text
♡ (Alan's POV)
I hummed on my bed as I write my story on my sketchbook. Kicking my feet as I wrote them before my mom opened my door without a warning, looking at me writing my story as I kicked my feet.
Chuckling, my mom spoke up teasingly. "Having fun daydreaming, Alan?"
I let out a huff, not taking the tease to heart as I watched her sat on my bed as she glanced at what I'm writing.
"What are you writing about sweetie?"
I lifted the sketchbook, showing what I wrote on it proudly. "It's a story, mom! It's called The imagination territory!"
My mom grabbed the sketchbook gently from my hands as she read it carefully. It seemed like she was judging my horrible hand writing and spelling, but for a 9 year old to write these stuff? Yeah it's impressive.
She looked at me with a courageous smile and patted my head, showing support. "Good job, Alan. You could do better, I believe you."
I smiled at her support for me to write story.
♡ (narrator's POV)
It's been a decade since that happened. Alan is now an adult, packing his stuff to move out before he found an old sketchbook under his bed.
Alan didn't think much of it and put it into the box. Alan likes to keep old stuff he had when he was a child as nostalgia, like that plushie he got for his 8th birthday from his birthday.
It was an orange bunny with some white fur, and a green ribbon around it's neck. Alan would snuggle with that plush sometimes.
Despite that, he continue focusing on packing his stuff and putting them into the box each.
After saying some goodbyes to his parents, Alan drove to his new house, which was an old apartment that could do for now while he's in collage.
Arriving at the apartment, Alan explore the place a bit as he organize his stuff on the shelf and food in the fridge at the same time.
Organizing his stuff on the shelf, such as books and a box of stationary. Alan completely forgot about that book, putting it aside first and finish organizing his stuff first on the shelf.
After some time, he finally finished organizing it, he was a tidy person after all. He's gonna make sure that his house is clean unlike how his older brother made a mess in his room when he was younger.
He sat down on his bed before grabbing the sketchbook on the bed earlier. Opening the sketching as he realized that this was his old writing book that he used to like writing stories on.
Reviewing his writing made him cringe from the horrible hand writing and spelling from his younger self. Thank gosh, he's better at writing now, at least he thought so.
Alan reread most of the story, it's almost didn't make sense at all. There's so many empty plots that needs to filled, it's mostly unfinished. Starting with the main character, his plushie, Second he called the orange rabbit plush from earlier mentions.
Plus, the boy who got stuck. How did he got stuck in the first place and how did he get out? Alan questioned himself.
No, he's over questioning again. It's just a story, he'll leave them be for a while. Alan thought to himself.
Alan closed the sketchbook, then putting it at the night stand. Looking outside, the sight of calm raining night calmed him down.
He laid down onto his bed, Trying to forget the random plots of the story, closing his eyes to sleep.
♡
Alan woke up from the sudden breeze of cold air surrounding him. Sitting back up with in confusion while rubbing his eyes and fixing his glasses, he thought he closed the window before?.. -
What the heck.