Hey Aunt Andrea, it's me again.
I'm writing this while my whole room gets covered in blood and a big eye watches me while I cry. I'm trying very hard not to call my psychiatrist, but I don't think I will last more. I hate everyone, I hate everything. I can't feel pleasure from anything. I can't pleasure myself as I did. I hate myself more as the days pass. I just want to be deaf, to not be able to hear anything. I wish I was blind because I don't want to see what I see.
I'm being chopped on a table, my dad is chopping me! Help me, please, help me.
Dorothy is watching me and she couldn't care less.
I'm really tired again, I want to sleep. My eyes are burning from crying all day, my computer keeps talking with me when I don't want it to. Stop, please stop, stop laughing at me! Shut up, shut up, shut up. Do it, is all I hear.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
I'm dying, everything is blurry. Help me.
Aunt Andrea, I'm forgetting your face. How are you? Were you blue eyed? Green eyed? I don't remember your face.
You don't remember what she looks like?
Just make something up!
Oh no, not like that. No, not again, no more blood! Dorothy, stop touching me, you aren't making me feel better!
