Waiting and waiting. That is what Virgil always seemed to do. He knew he wouldn't get a letter back right away, as he just sent the one he wrote the night before. He looked at the floor by his black desk. Papers littered the floor. 
        He sighed. Slowly getting off the bed he went down stairs to go eat. Since this was technically still his house. When he got down there he almost went straight first into his step brother. Virgil didn't know why he was even here. He was three years older then Virgil.  
       "Watch where you're going! Dipshit" His Step brother yelled slightly, making Virgil flinch. Virgil stared at the floor. He felt the piercing eyes burn through him, his step brother went upstairs stomping. Virgil's breathing was-- alright. Not.
        Virgil was curled on the floor, experiencing a panic attack. He was  scared of what was going to happen, since his step brother probably already told on him.  He got up, slightly wobbly and stumbled to his room. When he got there he shut the door as softly as he can. He hid in his closet and left his phone on his bed. He didn't understand why it kept getting taken away. 

       When night fell, Virgil stayed put. His limbs were hurting. He decided it was safe and got out. He then went to his bed and fell asleep, ish. He didn't sleep until 3 AM.