Well. Shit. They're right. Those bastards are right. I looked at the small area of my room with blood still on it. Guess what color it was? Not black. I really hope that freak actually is dead. I really hope his blood is red. I really....really hope. If this isn't his blood, I don't want to think about where it came from. I guess the results may be grim. They probably are. I just...can't think of myself doing that. And why don't I remember it? And why didn't may hands get cut by the broken glass? And why is he outside again. Oh god. I didn't do it. I didn't kill him. This isn't his blood. I have to board up my window....now.....bye.
-S.C.
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