Click. Click.

Her ballpoint pen repeated the same sound in steady pace. She tapped her shoes together, perhaps a method to keep her concentration. It was all the same; the proper wording simply didn't flow to her mind.

Tap. Tap.

What should she write? How could she describe these intense feelings with simple alphabetical symbols? No emotion could truly be transferred into a string of letters. Her past experience couldn't be recorded down for further comparison.

Crash.

All that thinking poured into physical motion, and caused her to roll off her futon in surprise. The teenage troll flipped her body over to regain her previous position. As she fixed her hair and slid it back into its headband, her Hazel eyes observed a painting resting on the tan wall. The canvas depicted an old park with young trolls playing tag, and purchasing ice cream from a smiling vendor. Two lovers sat on a wooden bench holding hands. A child chased their canine which was loose from its leash. Everyone came together in the portrait to create a moment in the early summer.

Scribble.

With that, she began doodling her heart into her journal pages, building a visual of the last week. Her pen glided across the lined paper, releasing its ink in lines of varying shapes and sizes. The illustrations came to life as her emotions poured out.

Knock. Knock.

"Tourmaline, get some rest," her mother called through, cracking the door open slightly. "You want tomorrow to go well, right?"

She sighed. "Yes, mom."

The door closed with a silent creak. Tourmaline gazed up at the ceiling, holding up her multicolored gemstone to catch the different colors in the light.

"Tomorrow is a new day."