Murder Night - Week 2, Thursday

[He'd spent the majority of his time in the rec room, drawing away in his booklet. That booklet is with him now, tucked under an arm - staff in the other.

The voice is getting unbearable in his head, and he's been regularly grinding the heel of his palm against his temple as though that may make it go away. Needless to say, it's an exercise in futility - the voice remains, giving the same question over and over and over and over and--

The kitchen. He'll go to the kitchen, he decides. A quick snack and then bed. Though at this point, he wonders if he'll be able to sleep with his thoughts a jumble in his head, that question spinning around and around over all other thoughts...]