Novels2Search

22-4-2008

22-4-2008

I'm covered with bruises again. Is this what you wanna hear? Well, now I'm telling you. It hurts just as much as always. I don't even know why I'm going with this.

Just because the teacher said so doesn't mean I should listen, right? According to you, I'm anti-social and I'm always some kinda trouble magnet and sometimes I'd show up with faint bruises on my face.

So what? Is it really your problem or mine? Because of that, now I have to write this!

Basically, she thinks that since my mind is 'disrupted' and 'distorted', I need to clear it somehow.

You see now? I'm writing. But that's not the only thing about this.

Basically, this whole year I've been the words above so with the remaining days of this month and the month after, I'm gonna have to write entries in this damn thing!

That's not the only thing. She even put a limit on how little entries I write! Apparently, with the remaining days of this month and next month, that's the last month in school, I have to write at least 40 entries.

What's worse is that it has to have 'content'. Oh, and whoever is taught by this teacher knows exactly what she means when she says 'content'. In her books, when she says content it means the truth.

What's more messed up is that she somehow manages to catch you lying. She can catch a liar better than a lie detector can. I swear it's almost terrifying. Almost. I've seen true terror.

What I'm trying to say, is that this woman wants me to write the truth into this thing and if I fill it with lies, she'll confront me.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

If I don't write at least 40 entries if each entry is limited to be written for 1 day, even if I'm 1 entry short, she'll call my parents.

And you know what that means, it's my death, probably get hanged. Or I get beaten to death. Or my arms will be split so I'd bleed slowly to my death. Or I'll be drowned in cement water.

But here's why this is a crazy idea even more. If he finds me writing this to you teacher, it's the death of me as well.

Father will think I'm indirectly reporting him and he'll make my death slow and painful.

Prison? He doesn't give a damn about prison. Why should he? His intuition is incredible and he always manages to get the bruises off our bodies after he's done beating us.

In short, if I'm gonna escape death, I'm gonna have to write 40 entries before school's over, hand them over to the teacher, and burn it right after if she doesn't wish to keep the book with her.

During this period of time, I have to hide it. I have to hide my entry book, or what normal people would call a journal or even a diary.

I don't give a damn really, I just want to escape death. This hell can go on, but death is a totally different level. That, I cannot tolerate.

However, this would mean I'm not obliged to write details. All I need to write is a vague truth. I don't have to write about every minute of every action I took like the foolish insects these emotional insects are.

I could just write a brief summary of what the day was. As brief as I can. With truth. That should be worth an entry.

The only issue left is how to hide the entry book. I still can't think of anything, but if I don't think of anything soon, it will only be a matter of time before Father senses something odd, the sense coming from his sharp intuition, and confront me about it.

If I'm gonna save my own life, I'm gonna find a way to hide this book, as fast as humanly possible.

It's gonna be a tough challenge, but I hope I survive. If this works out in the end, she'll probably read this and call the cops and run an investigation.

If I'm quick, I could just give the entry book to her and after she dismisses me, I'll run. Run as fast as I can. I'll just go as far as I could, I don't care when or how, but I'll run and wait.

When a week or so passes, I may go back home, and hopefully, they'd arrest Father and I'll never see his ugly face again.

That is if the teacher even calls the cops. Knowing her, she'll probably go right up to their doorstep, knock like a normal person, enter like some dangerous elegant butterfly, and chop 'em into mincemeat, clean out the crime scene, and surprisingly, no one would know it was her.

She is such a person that would do it. As such, I'm surrounded by deathly people. The only difference is that I'm not too sure if you would kill them... I can definitely predict you'd do it.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter