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I woke to the sound of mt parents yelling at eachother. How can I take this any longer? That thought, that secret... was gonna get told sometime. I just know it. Or atleast they will find out. 

"Hello Journal. Day 7,200 and my parents are still fighting. Haha. I have no humor. Well see ya if I stay alive. My tail is getting bigger. It will grow out of my pants sometime. Bye journal.

May 11, 1855" I was going to right more but I didn't dare go out there to sharpen my pencil. With scissors, of course. What? What's a  sharpener?


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⏰ Last updated: Nov 30, 2016 ⏰

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