… he has been checking off the list for the past month. He keeps pacing and rewriting it. It is now dark, and there is no moon. With no streetlight, how can he see what he is writing through the flicker of the car lights below? The little rays illuminate his face, revealing his sweat and the panic in his eyes. “Am I okay?” “What now? Am I found? Am I bad?” he keeps asking himself.

Honestly according to me, this is how being crazy begins, just sitting in the dark with a notebook and a pen, scratching off things that are not very visible. Or is it a sort of spell? Is he casting a spell on someone? What exactly is it? Time is moving slow, extra slow, funny how time flies by when you are enjoying, but slows down and feels like days are centuries, hours are years, and minutes are weeks, and seconds feel like hours. He is dozing off, not because he wants to, but because he is fatigued from the stress. I bet he will get the best sleep of his life. He seems peaceful when he is asleep. He did not sleep well because he was in panic. Why was he panicked? I have been noticing that he does not seem to enjoy resting; he is always on the edge.

He receives a call that seems to be from his mom, who else would call at the crack of dawn? I hope she can get him to be at ease, he is still on the call, but manages to write down a few words, he seems not too pleased with the callers' intentions. The caller tells him that all will be well and he should not stress much. The call ends and he is with the notepad, he stares at it for some time before he rushes into the shower, how can someone shower with a book, does it not get wet? I doubt he even took a proper shower, moving on. He is eating breakfast, a typical noodle meal, 2 minutes, but not exactly 2-minute noodles. (not my personal favourite) But hey, who am I to judge him? He does not have time. Time to go where? Well, he gets dressed, not much typical top, pants, shoes, underwear, and socks (he nearly forgot them), that is how you know one is very anxious. He is off to somewhere with his backpack and notepad in his hands, he rushes down the stairs and out of the building, he goes. Standing in the street, he contemplates walking and taking the public transport. Will his cash be enough, or should he try walking? Just in time, the transport arrives and in he goes.


He sits by the window seat in the far back (it is very empty inside). Why not sit in front if it is empty, which makes it easier to get off, but he has a preference. Let us continue. He stares at the notebook and stares out the window, deep in thought. He lets a small smirk form on his lips, but shakes his head, letting out a sigh of disbelief. He seems not as worried as before but is slowly accepting whatever it is. He prepares to get off because his stop is near, he gets up and balances himself, walks to the front, greets the driver, and gets off. Now he must walk to the place he had been dreading and did not want to go; he prays that whatever has been keeping him up all night does not appear.

He prays for extra time to prepare, off on his walk to the place and he is quite paranoid. Every figure he stares at until it takes a proper form then he lets out a sigh, he isn’t doing okay but if he can get to the gates he would have made it. He would be relieved to some content, he receives a notification, not one but three notifications, he steadies his hand to retrieve his phone from the pocket and as he checks his notifications three more notifications pop up. He smiles at the notification, can't make out what is written but he seems relieved and happy, he hastily hurries to the gates and makes his way past the guards and inside he is.
He seems very joyous compared to last night's gloomy and anxious mood. He makes his way to his desk and puts down the notepad. This time, he seems quite pleased to see it; he is happy. Calm and at ease. He begins to write on the notepad, his hand glides across the paper, at times he glances at his phone with a smile and shakes his head happily then does a little dance and goes back to his writing. He glides back on his notepad; he is pleased, but whatever.

Time has flown by, and by the time he looks up, it is lunch. He packs his bag and gets up to leave. This time, the notepad is put in his bag, and he goes off to a place as if to fetch someone; he seems quite pleased. I can’t make out who the person is, but I guess they share a nice and lovely bond, they take a seat, and words are exchanged. He soon takes the person with him, they both are walking to an unknown place (it could be the day he meets his maker) such a dream come true I digress, he is handed a little something, quite small to be valuable. (It’s not narcotics, I promise.) words said with huge smiles and laughter. They part ways, each going in the opposite direction, but neither stops to look back so much for expecting a movie moment. He rushes home and he is back to his anxious mood, but this time he is calm and this time he is quite prepared; he paces around the room checking out the notepad.

He receives another notification, and it makes him happy, he sits and contemplates but decided to do it, he stares at his phone and searches for a contact, he crafts a small message and doesn’t send it, but he stares, and wonders, another notification pops and a few more follow it. His phone rings and it's a call he had been waiting for. The call confirms something in him that prompts him to send with the draft. He receives a response swiftly, not what he expected but enough to ease him. He did not expect it, but he is happy, he draws a strikethrough a point, the only point on his note page, he crafts it to be the best strikethrough…