The Roof, Monday Evening

[dollpocalypse]

Unlike, perhaps, a good chunk of his peers, Topher was not in a good mood today.

He'd hated being seven when he was seven, and he'd hated it last year too when the island had thrown this at everyone, and guess what? He still hated it. Seven-year-old Topher had been whiny and scared of everything and stupidly vulnerable, and the lingering discomfort from having been all of those things for a weekend added up to a pretty unhappy Monday.

Now, he didn't mean to be a cliche or anything, but he figured that he'd earned a little while on the roof to sulk. He wasn't sure why it was tradition, considering that it was chilly and he wasn't a big fan of fresh air, but it seemed to be the thing people did when they were in bad moods, so he thought he'd give it a shot.

So far it wasn't really helping. He'd give it another few minutes.