Somewhere In Brooklyn

15 - November 15

I didn't go for it.

In fact, I haven't left my room for four days now. Aside from the occasional passes to the bathroom and the kitchen, of course.

Scott was worried about me when he left. Which made me feel guilty because I don't want him to waste his time doing that when he should be focusing on his studies. Besides, one Underwood is enough to occupy his mind.

I think my mom is worried. I don't know. I'm not sure because she never asked me. She just keep on glancing at me when she thinks I'm not aware of it. If she's worried, well she's doing a great job hiding it.

My dad acts like he's worried. He visited earlier, claiming that he drove all the way from Boston for me. That annoys me because he tries so hard.

He wanted to spend time with me. I told him I'm tired. He gave me a confused and annoyed look and a strangled what? and I understand that because how can someone get tired from just laying down on bed, doing absolutely nothing and waiting for the day to end? I wish I could give him an answer. But he don't deserve it.

I know that I should I get out. I should talk to someone. I should do something, anything. But it's hard when I don't want to live anymore. I just don't see the point of doing those things.