I thought over a few terrible scenarios.What if she had passed out or died for some reason? What if she was being held at gunpoint, unable to speak? I...wasn't prepared to handle any of that. Well, if there was a killer in there, my presence was already known. I felt my side for my gun and realized bitterly that I left it at home. Shit! I braced myself and opened the door. Luckily, there was no killer inside. In fact, I didn't see anybody. My eyes scanned about the room, her desk, her pencil. She was filled with desire for someone special.Penn wished that he could see her outside this strange dream world, that he could be with her in the flesh, he wished that the hunger she felt was for him.If the feelings had seemed like echoes, Penn would have been sad for her, but it was as if her spirit were present, her innermost dreams and secrets on her face, readable like an open book. The communication was of utmost eloquence, but she could not speak. He could only read her feelings, and it. More

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