Her mind was churning, pouring out here incessant thoughts onto the papers. The words flowed through her fingers, and bled onto the paper. All she could write about was the mysterious boy with dark hair. It was turn of events she never foresaw, instead of writing fantasies for those who'd never be aware of the existence, she was turning her own life into folklore. 

It didn't make sense to her, but it was all she could think of. She wrote of their meeting, only she exaggerated several events. She couldn't help herself. Everything she wrote were fantasies, but they never featured her. This one she was the protagonist. Or maybe he was? It didn't matter, she was a main character. And for the first time, this story didn't have a close, cause she had no idea how it was going to end up. 

It was possible she could see him again, and the story could continue, but there was the unfortunate possibility they'd never cross paths again. She wasn't sure if she'd write that even if that did end up being the truth. She'd likely turn back the the pages she'd just written and slap on the words, 'and they lived happily ever after.' 

Nobody would be able to say otherwise. Only a few people knew she wrote, and as far as they knew it was all fiction. And in a way they were fiction. They were woven and imagined, but the people described were real. Another reason she'd never let more than a few people read her scribbles. 

She finally put down her pen and placed it next to her notebook. She turned off her light and crawled into bed. After lying in bed for a while restlessly, her eyes grew heavy and she slept. Her dreams were of those she wrote about and him. 

Shorter than usual but I hope it's still good. Sorry it took so long to update