How can I actually write about this? I can't really. I'm sitting alone in my room, the only light coming from the glow of this monitor I'm staring at. I don't even know how long I've been in here. Haven't slept or eaten in three, maybe four days. Afraid to sleep. Ever since I met with. . .
I can't really say that here. Can't say much of anything here. The watchers are watching, aren't you? Then, again, would I be telling you anything you don't already know? Mind going in circles, I guess lack of sleep will to that to a person.
When the hell is my dad coming back? You reading this? I got some questions for you. Answer your cell phone. Do you know what I know about mom? About me?
The earring, I've taken it off. I'm staring at it right now, on the desk next to the PC. Shiny little silver cross, and poor little homophobic Tony has no clue what he was messing with.
God I need to sleep.
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where did you get the earring?
ReplyDeleteIt's one of the few things I have from my mother. She died when I was six, she gave it to me before she went into the hospital.
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