However, his sated sleep lasted barely an hour. He now sat propped up leaning on pillows stacked against his bed's headboard. In his hands, he held a ...olume of poetry by Edgar Allan Poe. His eyes began to read the first stanza of "Annabel Lee" again, but his mind simply could not absorb the words. Sleepless nights were not an unusual occurrence for him, but the feeling of restlessness, the feeling that he needed to be elsewhere, was. He tossed the book aside with a grunt of aggravation."I think. See, I grew up as a country boy and hardly listened to anything besides country or gospel. Lucky me, I got stuck rooming with Dylan, a full-on metal head and Marky, a guy who listens to the Misfits exclusively.The venue they brought me to was dank, dimly lit and covered in a variety of stains. I instantly felt uncomfortable, not just because of the various smells, but because everyone looked so much bigger than me. I was pretty short for a guy my age but had never been around so many people. More

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